Page 17 of Beyond the Winter Kingdom (Faeted Seasons #2)

Meera

The deeper we went into Evorsus, the less creepy it became.

Suspiciously so.

We stopped at the tree line, where the thread dipped into a hollow carved out within the forest. An entire village nestled in a natural landscape, like some hidden grove untouched by time or horror.

It was adorable. That was the problem.

Pastel domes rose like confections, their glassy surfaces veined with gold. Glowing vines curled over them like ribbons on a gift. Lanterns bobbed above cobbled paths, casting soft, pulsing light that hummed at the edge of hearing.

It was so out of place in this realm, and I didn’t trust it for a second.

“This feels like a trap,” I muttered, crouching behind a twisted tree trunk.

“It is,” Vareck said, eyes sweeping the scene. “They just want you to think it isn’t.”

Then there were the creatures.

Round and soft, maybe three feet tall, with oversized eyes that shimmered like sapphires, and fur in pastel hues. Their ears were huge, perky like a desert fox, and they chirped as they moved with the frantic glee of toddlers after birthday cake.

“Have you ever come across them before?” He shook his head. “Compared to the Nameless, this entire place is like a bedtime story.”

Vareck’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Which means we’re in the kind of nightmare that waits until the lights go out.”

“Probably,” I agreed, “but it’s Evorsus. When do the lights go out?”

“We shouldn’t stick around to find out.”

Except the golden thread led into that village. Sadie’s thread.

One of the creatures toddled past us, dragging a basket of glittering fruit. Another floated overhead on a petal-shaped glider, waving at a neighbor carving a flute from a mushroom stalk.

Everything about the village screamed too cute, too perfect. My nerves were shot just being close to it.

I looked at the thread. It shimmered like it knew I was stalling, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. “That’s Sadie’s thread,” I said quietly. “I don’t care how cute they are. I’m going in.”

“You’re not going alone,” Vareck said without hesitation.

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

His jaw flexed. “We do this together, or not at all.”

I stared at him. This wasn’t ego. It was armor. His way of protecting me.

“Fine,” I said. “Together.”

He nodded once, and we moved, quietly and carefully, toward the village that looked like a dream, but there was no hiding the sinister undertones that permeated the air.

The moment we crossed the invisible threshold, the atmosphere changed.

It turned warm and sugary, almost intoxicating.

Faint hints of fruit and flowers, spun sugar and summer wind danced at the edge of my memories.

The pastel creatures didn’t spare us a glance.

Either they didn’t care, or we’d just stepped into the softest trap ever laid.

We stayed in the shadows, weaving between curved walls and glittering plants. I ducked behind a citrusy bush that smelled like pineapple and oranges fused together and waited, holding my breath, as another fuzzy local bounced past.

“This is insane,” Vareck hissed behind me, his voice barely audible.

“Not the first time you’ve said that,” I whispered back.

“Also not the first time I’ve been right.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I did, actually. Because if I let you go alone into a glowing goblin village full of suspiciously helpful miniature teddy bears, and something happens to you, I’d have to level the whole realm. And I’m really trying not to do that today.”

A smirk I couldn’t suppress made its way to my lips. “So this is you being restrained?”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?”

Gods help me, I almost laughed. We were in danger, undoubtedly, and yet Vareck was flirting with me. I found my temperature rising at the easy banter between us despite everything.

A tiny creature padded by us on feet shaped like puffballs, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a lullaby. It pulled me back to the situation at hand. It paused, turned its massive eyes toward us, blinked slowly ... and kept going.

I held my breath until it was out of sight, then muttered, “Okay, I’m officially freaked out.”

“You should be. That thing looked at you like it’s already seen your obituary.”

“Well, it better know I bite.”

“I have a feeling they do too.”

I shook my head and crept around the edge of what looked like a bakery. Sweet spice drifted from inside. “Apparently, Evorsus has a sense of humor.”

“I think it’s got a god complex and no off-switch.”

“That’s an apt description too.”

We ducked low, slipping behind a string of glowing mushroom lanterns. My hand brushed his as I steadied myself, and for a second, he didn’t pull away.

“You really think she’s here?” he asked, glancing at the surrounding structures while looking for any hostile movement. “It’s not just her thread going through this place? We could go around the village.”

“I know she’s here. I can feel it.”

He nodded once, and I caught the flicker of something beneath his expression. Not doubt, exactly. Worry.

“She might be your sister,” he said after a beat. “Just don’t forget I have a claim on you too.”

That made me pause. Not because I was going to argue it, but because I was his mate. There was no denying it.

“I won’t forget,” I said. “But I can’t choose you over her.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he replied. “Just ... don’t forget what I’m willing to do for you.”

I swallowed the tightness in my throat. “Vareck, I don’t need a savior.”

“No,” he said, scanning the path ahead, “you need someone who’ll follow you straight into the trap anyway.”

Despite everything, I smiled. “Then I guess I picked the right guy.”

“That you did.”

My chest tightened at the sentiment, but I didn't voice it.

We moved forward again, quieter now, watching as more creatures gathered around what looked like a garden party. A few were playing what resembled musical chairs, and another one was spinning in slow, dreamy circles as flower petals fell from the sky like confetti.

“They really are kind of cute,” I mused.

“Need I remind you this realm excels at illusions. Those petals are likely venomous. Keep going.”

It was a worthy reminder, and it was easy to see how quickly this place could make you feel safe. Cute was a disarming aesthetic. I crouched again near a softly glowing bush, one hand on the thread that vibrated softly in my grip.

“We’re close,” I murmured.

“Good,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Let’s get her and get out of this candy-coated nightmare.”

Not much further. Past a fountain that burbled liquid gold. Past a building shaped like a teapot. Past a patch of glowing cabbages tended by a trio of creatures humming in harmony. Every corner looked like a cartoon dream. Every moment felt like a trap.

And then I saw her.

My heart stopped.

She was sitting on a throne-like chair made of twisted vines and silk pillows, a drink in one hand and an oversized sunhat perched on her head. Around her, the creatures bustled and preened—fanning her with big heart-shaped leaves, painting her nails, offering trays of sparkling fruit.

“Sadie?” I breathed in disbelief.

She didn’t hear me. Not yet.

But someone else did.

“Vareck?”

“Damon?” Vareck said, his voice laced with equal parts confusion and dread.

A man stepped out from behind Sadie’s chair.

One that I recognized. Beside my sister he appeared taller, more intimidating.

Still beautiful in that terrifying, immortal sort of way that suggested he’d already gone through the transition.

He had a glass in hand filled with something that looked like wine.

His glass was half full, his frown half-formed.

The Crown Prince of Faerie gave us a slow, wicked smile. “Well, this just got interesting.”