Page 27 of Brutal Fae King (Dark Faevea King #1)

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” Vicmar says, a cheeky grin on his face.

I give a playful scowl back, but I’m not as annoyed as I’m pretending to be. It’s nice to have something else to focus on aside from the battle that happened a few days ago. It’s a little unbelievable to think about now; less than a week ago, I was in a life-or-death, do-or-die battle. Such a short while ago, if someone had said that I would be in such a battle, I would have laughed. It still makes my brain swim when I try to consider it. But I did it. I cast the magic, I wielded the sword, and I got a good blow in on Dralis—the man who was a feared god to some.

I did that. Me. I can’t believe it…

But that means that Dralis has even more reason to come after me than he did before…

“He is secure in the dungeons, right, Vicmar?” I ask nervously.

“For the last time, yes, Ebelor!” he says. “You can check the wards yourself if you want!”

The idea of seeing him again, even in the context of the dungeon, makes my skin crawl a little.

“N-no, thank you!”

He chuckles lightly.

“I know he has teleported in and out of the dungeons before, but the sigils and wards we have up on the walls and on every bar of that cell are meant to bind the powers of dark fae,” he says. “And we know not a single guard here is willing to work with him in any way, so he’s not worming his way to escape that way.”

I nod.

“And… um… what are we doing with him?” I ask. “In the long term, I mean?”

That’s when Vicmar shuffles uncomfortably and hangs his head.

“I wouldn’t know,” he answers. “I just… he is my brother… we grew up together…”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but I understand what he’s trying to say.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly. “As long as he doesn’t escape.”

“We have made sure he couldn’t,” he says. “We have checked and double-checked—teleporting in and out of that place should be impossible. And that’s even if he can still do it now his trickster god has abandoned him.”

I nod lightly.

“Are we… Can we check to make sure that’s true?” I ask nervously.

“I don’t know if there’s any way to check,” Vicmar answers. “But I’ve never heard him wail like that. It’s like he’s dying slowly and painfully, but physically, he’s well. We’ve had healers down there, and none of them can find anything wrong with him. I doubt that even Dralis could fake something so distressing to listen to, and the entire time, he’s begging for mercy from Mischevil.”

I nod again. Vicmar nods as well, but he’s looking down at the floor, a little pain furrowing his brow. I walk over and put a hand on his shoulder. His tense muscle loosens under my hand. He just smiles weakly at me.

“I apologize,” he says. “I should pull myself together. It’s just that… I still remember the days when Dralis and I were children. When we used to play together, and he was my big brother… I know he’s not the Dralis I knew before, but… I don’t know.”

“I understand,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to face my sister in the same way.”

As I say it, I feel myself shrink down a little as a little homesickness washes over me. His arm winds around my back.

“Thank you, Ebelor,” he says. “But let’s forget about that for now. We’re here.”

I look at where we are. I’m not exactly sure where we are—there’s just a massive set of double doors in front of me. They’re beautifully wooden, ornately carved, swirls framing the doors, with the odd rose in the corners. No sign on it to give me an indication of what is inside.

Vicmar’s hand touches my lower back—or so I think, until I turn and see it’s his wing.

“Do you like it?” He chuckles. “You’re just staring at the doors like you’ve never seen a set before, but believe it or not, the surprise is inside. ”

“Oh,” I find myself blushing a little. “Yes, they’re lovely. I was just trying to figure out where we were.”

“Open the doors and find out!” he laughs.

I walk forward and take hold of the golden handle. When I lower it down, I almost expect it to be locked, but he wouldn’t be that cruel, right?

It opens without a problem, and for a moment, there’s such a bright spotlight coming down on my face from the majestic windows in the room that I can’t see it for a second. Once my eyes adjust, my breath is taken away.

Directly in front of me is a grand arched window, through which the perfect golden light fills in, lighting up the towering furniture in the room. There are bookshelves so large and ornate that I have to crane my head all the way back to see the tops of them. Once I’m looking at their tops I see even more library I didn’t notice before—a second floor above my head, a balcony jutting out making up the second floor, with a golden rail curling around. On the wall at the back, more books. The walls themselves are bookshelves.

There are more books than I have ever seen before in my life. Truly books of every kind, some newer ones in vivid scarlets and sapphires with golden titles, others ancient leatherbound types, with yellowing pages and dog-eared from use. There are some scrolls tucked away on top of the books and some loose pages stuffed away on the sides.

I can’t comprehend just how many books are in this one room. I crane my head back, looking at so many of them, until my head starts reeling. I realize my mouth has been gaping this whole time from the thick, musty taste of old books on my tongue. Once I tip my head back down, I feel a woosh, and my vision blacks out for a moment. I put a hand on my head, and a pair of hands touch my shoulder, his wing on my lower back.

“Oh! Do you ail?” Vicmar laughs lightly.

“No… I just…” I look back up at the bookshelves. “It’s so incredible!”

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“Oh, by the gods, I do!” I spin around to him and link my arms around his neck. I kiss him on the cheek for a second before I ask. “But why? Why did you do this? How did you know?”

“I spoke with Dronfil,” Vicmar says, chest puffing up in pride. “Once you could decorate your room, you kept filling it with more and more books. I had a talk with all the guards, and I got an entire section filled with the kind of books you like to read.”

I’m already glowing, but I brighten even more when I hear Vicmar saying the guard’s name. When I first met him, he treated the staff like dogs, barking orders at them and never remembering their names, but he’s clearly been trying to improve himself in that regard after I let him know it bothers me. It makes me so happy to see.

Vicmar breaks the embrace and walks over to the nearest section—there are a lot of newer books here:

“I’ve put them all here—your favorites, that is,” he says. “I’ve just been calling it Ebelor’s shelf for now.”

He chuckles, and I smile back, but happy tears are stinging my eyes. I avoid laughing so I don’t accidentally start crying instead.

“But there’s more than that here. The complete history of Faevea is over there.” He points them out as he mentions them. “And the written laws are next to it. On the other side is the complete history of magic, as well as specific spell books and magical crafts.”

Vicmar walks back toward me and puts a hand on my shoulder, then points to the second floor.

“Up there is the philosophy section, as well as miscellaneous books on arts and different races and their cultures,” he continues. “Before your shelf was established down here, the fiction was up there too, but now it’s down here.”

He swings around to look me in the eye. The crook of his finger touches underneath my chin and tips it up toward him.

“This used to be my private library, but now, it’s all yours. Every inch of it, every book, everything,” Vicmar says, then chuckles. “Just do forgive me if I forget to knock at first; it’ll be odd to consider this place your sanctuary from now on.”

“But why?” I murmur, the tears welling up. “You didn’t need to do this.”

Vicmar scoffs.

“Of course I did! You clearly needed a place that suited you,” he says, then his brow furrows a little. “You do like it, don’t you? You’re crying.”

I smile and wipe my eyes.

“Don’t worry, they’re happy tears,” I blubber.

He chuckles lightly and kisses my lips.

“There is another reason I did this,” he says. “Not just because the guards said you loved reading and were hoarding books—it’s because you never had the chance to read. You never had the chance to learn; it was all stolen from you when you had to flee the castle as a baby. You’re so inquisitive, Ebelor—you deserve to reach your full potential.”

Vicmar looks back to the library around us.

“This place taught me everything I know. Whatever it is you want to study, Ebelor, it’s here. If you want to study to become as knowledgeable a queen as Faevea ever had, you have the means. If you want to master your magic, the best books in the country are merely a few sections over.” He looks back at me and smiles, running his hand up and down my cheek. “If all you want to do is relax and read your beautiful fiction, then I’ll light the fire and leave you to it. Whatever you want, Ebelor, I’ll be behind you.”

The tears fully overwhelm me, and a sob forces its way out of my throat. I can tell my tears are making him nervous, so I wind my arms around his neck and pull myself in close to him. After a second, I cry into his shoulder, but I turn and plant a kiss on his face.

“Y-you’re wonderful!” I weep. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Good. I told you I wanted you to be happy here, and I meant it,” he murmurs to me.

He pulls me in even closer, and both his arms and wings wrap around me in one of his all-encompassing hugs. One arm winds around my lower back, and one around my mid-back, his hand resting between my shoulders. His wings blanket my entire back, still radiating warmth. It’s like the glow of a roaring fire, but I know that if there’s any burning, it’s happening between us.

“There is one more surprise heading your way,” he purrs. “It’s just not here yet.”

I give a desirous chuckle and kiss the side of his jaw, moving in toward his mouth.

“Are we sure I can’t make it come a little earlier?” I tease. “Now I’m in the mood?”

“Hm?” Vicmar grunts at first, then gives a light laugh. “Oh, I was genuinely talking about another surprise that’s supposed to be here!”

“Oh!” I laugh.

“But—” He growls, a wicked smile breaking across his face. “ —if you insist, My Queen!”

His arms slide down and hook underneath my thighs. His wings support my upper back as he lifts me up so easily. I giggle, tightening my grip around his neck. He starts walking with me, and it’s like I weigh nothing, his lips feathering kisses down my neck. The tickling of his lips turns very, very quickly into pleasure that tingles up and down my body.

I feel him carry me over and place me down on something. As he slowly releases me, I place my hand down on the cool wooden tables. As I lean down, he towers over me and places his down on either side of my head. My head is boxed in by his strong arms, and I stroke my fingers up and down his muscular arms, giggling.

Vicmar gives a throaty laugh and then leans down. His lips touch mine—softly at first, but I grab his face and deepen the kiss. He moans gently on the end of my tongue. I’m the first to break the kiss and whisper into his ear.

“You’ve done so much for me…” I murmur. “What can I do for you tonight…?”

He chuckles gently. He turns his face to look at me and kisses me on the cheek just before he answers:

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to make you happy,” he purrs. Then, he pulls my legs up, hitching them onto his hips. “So moan loudly for me tonight! Show me that I make you happy!”

I give an aroused giggle. His mouth moves to my neck, warm and wet, trailing down to my collarbone. As he keeps traveling down, pleasure boils in the back of my throat. But I moan when that happens—loudly, unabashedly—and he gives a small sound of pleasure back.

“Mm… yes… Like that!” he moans. “Just like that! Moan for me!”

I keep going, but I find myself giggling—I’m so happy it’s surreal. It’s not just the pleasure; it’s the bubbling happiness moving through me.

I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy, to feel light as a feather, glowing like a roaring hearth, deep in my heart. I root my fingers into his long, glossy hair as he traces his way down.

“I love you!” I gasp.

“I love you too,” he murmurs against my skin.

Sweeter words had never been spoken—nor in such a sweet way.