Page 10 of Fated or Knot (UnseelieVerse: The Omega Masquerade #1)

10

LARK

“ W ho are they?” Fal whispered in my ear.

I met his gaze, torn. Who could I trust more, the Unseelie I’d just met or my stepfamily?

He was putting me down. My right foot twinged upon coming in contact with the ground. Just another dose of reality as the surge of panic in my chest settled into resignation. It was over. Already.

I came to a decision and hoped, somehow, Fal could become the unlikely ally I needed. “The clue you wanted to see me,” I mumbled back.

Stars, they’d found me so fast. I’d thought they wouldn’t bother to search Ilysnor all that hard, and that was my fatal mistake. A keening tone rose in my head, screaming out a silent denial. I couldn’t go back to Osme Fen. I would rather die than have Pack Ellisar touch me, even more so now that I’d met my scent matches, Unseelie or not.

My hand covered the new tattoos on my opposite wrist, hiding them under an illusion with a bit of essence. I stood in a servant’s obedient pose with my face inclined toward the ground, bracing for whatever was to come next.

“Lark, who is this handsome male?” Cymora practically simpered.

It wasn’t a direct order, but I responded like it was so Fal could hear who she was. “Yes, Stepmother. This is Prince Fal…uh.” I’d forgotten his full name.

“Crown Prince Falindel of Sorles, second only to Pack Serian,” he supplied, picking up seamlessly from where I’d left off. I felt his attention on me and dared a peek through my lashes. His gaze was probing as it flashed from me to my stepfamily and back. Practically demanding an explanation. “Lord heir and leader of Pack Sorles.”

Cymora rushed to curtsy, stomping on Laurel’s foot until she stopped gaping and did the same. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Falindel. I am Cymora, Lady of Osme Fen. And this is my daughter, Lady Laurel. Thank you for finding Lark for us. We lost her after the Omega Masquerade.”

“Indeed,” Fal said. I must’ve been imagining the suspicion in that single word, as he sounded warm afterward as he gestured to the taproom. “How lovely it is to meet you both. Let us have a seat. I will call my brothers to join us through our pack bond. We have something to discuss.”

“We do?” Laurel asked. She made a soft yelp as Cymora must’ve dug her heel in.

“We certainly do,” he said cheerfully, sweeping me in that direction with his arm around my shoulders. I tried not to despair as I watched him haul two tables together, moving chairs so there was enough room for all of us. This was about to be humiliating. I didn’t want the princes to see me under Cymora’s thumb, but I didn’t have a choice.

I glanced her way, and my heart sank further at what I saw. My stepmother was scheming so hard it was a wonder she wasn’t blowing hot steam from her finned ears. “Please, sit,” Fal said, drawing the first chair on one side. “I have joyous news to share once we’re all here.”

Cymora eased into the second chair, gesturing for me to sit across from Fal and for Laurel to flank her other side. “I am quite eager to hear it, especially if it concerns my dear Lark.”

I hid any sign of a flinch under a practiced mask, going as blank as possible. She had a habit of punishing me for any public reactions later, in private, and I didn’t need to make her wrath any worse than it already was.

A barmaid came by, and Fal politely had her leave, passing her a coin. He wasn’t planning on this being a long conversation, it seemed. Kauz was the first of his pack to arrive, keeping the chair beside Fal empty and turning around the next one in line to account for his wings. “Prince Kauzden of Sorles, magician heir,” Fal supplied while introducing my stepfamily to him.

Laurel murmured in awe when Kauz smiled and offered his hand to each of them. The sunlight leaking into the taproom caught his unusual eyes to make them shine with purple nebulae. I wanted to gaze into them to see more, and so did my stepsister, it seemed. A flash of jealousy hit me that she was the one across from him, able to gaze at her leisure.

Whoa, there. What was that? I’d rarely cared so much about such a small thing before.

“A pleasure to meet Lark’s family,” he said.

“The pleasure is ours,” Cymora replied.

Next to arrive was Marius, who exchanged a brief word with Fal in Serian before shrugging off his half cloak. The magic making him appear as a merman faded, changing his facial structure and unveiling his Unseelie animal feature. He had fins from his wrists to his elbows, folded close to his skin with multiple sharp-looking points at the ends.

His nose flattened from a blade to a more subtle ridge with a thick golden ring glinting on his right nostril. Two pairs of emerald studs lined the end of his right eyebrow. A long scar bisected his face at an angle, lending him a look more roguish than handsome. It was a thick and silvery, crossing over the bridge of his nose and cutting through his brow close to his pack mark and the top of the opposite cheek. His eyes gained a kind of predatory glow, while his ears reshaped from fins into fae points and grew half an inch.

He reminded me even more of a horse than our earlier introduction. Kelpie, my mind supplied. A breed of aquatic Unseelie shifter known for feasting on flesh and having loyalty only to their nixie mates. Marius was short with my stepfamily, practically grunting his way through introductions and keeping his gaze off me.

“Marius is a male of few words,” Fal added, earning a nod from the kelpie. “It comes with his role as protector heir.”

“Where’s Tormund?” Marius asked. His ear flicked in an impatient gesture.

“Enjoying Ilysnor, I’m sure,” Kauz answered.

The longer it took for the last prince to arrive, the more time Cymora had to scheme. I fidgeted with my fingers under the table, picking at the skin around my fingernails until it hurt, as I wondered what new terrors she was coming up with. My belly was full to the brim with queasy nerves. No matter what she decided to do, I had no power to stop her. And she was sure to try to ruin how the princes saw me.

It was almost comedic how when the illusion of choice was taken away, I realized what I wanted. With the exception of Marius, who had caught me in such an embarrassing moment, I liked what I’d seen of the Unseelie princes. If I ended up stolen away to Serian…

Well, if my stepfamily hadn’t been standing in the way, I’d have let Fal carry me to the magirail station. I’d never see Pack Ellisar again, not even spare their breeding contract a second thought if I were soul-bonded into a nicer pack. Amazing. What happened to wicked tricksters and vile malcontents? It hasn’t even been a day.

The four princes weren’t like the stories. They’d been kind to me, despite my lower station. They were simply…people, just like any other fae I’d met. Maybe I was wrong, and maybe it was too soon to write off Fal’s mischievous face, Marius’s clear dismissiveness, and Kauz’s unreadable starry eyes. They could’ve already misled me about their intents or any evil plots they had until I was shut inside a train with them.

But Tormund, I thought of him as having the purest intentions of the four of them. We all knew when he arrived, as he exclaimed, “Hello again, li’l bird!” He came into the taproom from behind me, announced by the inn’s door closing.

He’d changed cloaks, wearing an intact one that was orange and edged in gold embroidery. “I bought you something,” he said as he bent down and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

My face warmed, and I blinked up at him in surprise. He’d really kissed me, no hesitation, and I’d released a giddy laugh in response. Tormund wore a big smile as he whispered behind his hand, “I’ll give it to you later.”

The table had gone silent during this exchange. I was aware of Cymora’s focus next to me, watching with a hawk’s unerring gaze.

“Okay,” I said, wondering what he’d gotten me. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too nice, or my stepfamily would take it away.

Fal came to my rescue again, introducing Tormund as he took the last seat, next to Kauz. The brothers edged out to give him room. After a murmur from Kauz, Tormund took off the ruby and gold armband he wore, revealing his Unseelie horns. All four males had the same pack mark, a three-pointed crown between their brows.

“As you may be aware, every royal pack has a member that sees to the queen’s household. Tormund is the heir to her needs,” the dark elf explained. “Now that we’re all here, let’s cut to the chase. Lark is the scent match of Pack Sorles.”

“Yes,” Cymora breathed. “What great news indeed.”

I didn’t like the sound of that at all. Nor her hand coming down on my knee and holding it firmly under the table. “You met at the Omega Masquerade, then?” she added.

Laurel stirred. “But Unseelie—” she began to whisper before Cymora elbowed her.

Fal nodded. “As my brothers will tell you, we’ve met every eligible nixie in Serian. We’ve taken our duty to find our princess quite seriously. I suspected our mate would be a pixie instead, and I was rewarded last night after crossing paths with Lark.”

“You are certain?” my stepmother asked with a dry chuckle.

The only reaction on their side of the table came from Tormund, whose brow knitted.

“She is our scent match. Our fated mate,” Fal stated.

“Well, how interesting. I’m not sure I can approve of such a match. Lark is a wallflower, I’m afraid. And untrained for a princess’s duties. Perhaps another can fulfill that role for you,” Cymora said.

My cheeks burned, and I clamped down on a whine of denial. Stars, this was exactly what I was expecting. The next thing in her book of tricks was to recommend that Laurel take my place because she was so superior .

She wasn’t going to give me a direct order in front of the princes, but she did squeeze my knee with a vicelike grip until I winced and ducked my head again without a word. A growl rose from Tormund’s direction. “You can’t fault me for telling the truth to spare us some trouble,” she said toward him. “I’m not sure she will be a good princess for you, fated or not.”

“We are not ones to judge her lacking in any regard, Lady Cymora,” Fal said. “There is protocol to observe before she joins our pack officially, but we’ve already recognized her as our princess and intend to begin fitting into her life with the roles we’ve been raised in since birth.”

My eyes widened with shock. My stepmother wasn’t wrong. How, exactly, did they expect me to perform as a princess—no, a future queen—of a country I’d never even visited? This went beyond scent matching. They needed someone to fulfill a specialized role other omegas were trained to step into.

But he’d said recognized her as our princess with that confidence I’d been admiring in him earlier.

Cymora reacted quickly, patting my knee as permission to stop stooping. The princes had to be looking at us with suspicion, which was why I didn’t straighten or speak up yet. It was the only thing I could do to signal that there was something off about the situation.

“Princess Lark. I like the sound of it.” The gruff comment came from Marius. Something nice from him too? Stars, I was going to faint.

“ Our princess. Even better,” Tormund said.

They waited, probably expecting me to say something.

“Let’s give her a moment. This must be quite overwhelming,” Kauz suggested.

Cymora cleared her throat, maybe reeling from my sudden change in fortune. I sure hoped so. “Well, in the meantime, if you don’t mind me asking… Prince Kauzden, I couldn’t help but notice…”

“That I’m a beta?” Kauz supplied wryly.

“Only a curiosity for the other betas in the room,” she said.

“Of course,” he said in a mild tone. “My race defies usual breeding rules for designations. There are no alphas with powers such as mine, and nixies are rare outside of a couple lucky bloodlines. My many-greats grandfather was selected by the first Queen of Serian for his talent in essence spinning, which I have thankfully inherited to be of use to Lark.”

“I see. Thank you for sharing that,” she said.

Though she was polite on the surface, I could tell she was a little sour about his explanation. I glanced up with a mousy smile, figuring it had to be in response to how he’d tied it back to me.

“Will you tell us of Osme Fen? We’re not familiar with small Seelie settlements,” Kauz offered. I bit my lip. Calling it small was accurate, but that was sure to rankle Cymora further. By the shape of his eyelids, he was glancing my way and cracking a little smile.

While she replied, Fal caught my attention. He gazed into my eyes for a long moment, looking for something, before he blew me a kiss with one of his elaborate hand flourishes. I hid a giggle behind my fingers.

Fal tilted his head, lips tugging downward. “Why don’t I send you and one of my brothers off while we finish up here?” he suggested in an undertone.

Cymora was busy talking about herself and Laurel, so I nodded and murmured, “I’d like that a lot.”

“Lark’s father passed when she was only six years old, leaving me with the estate in Osme Fen and Lark’s care. I’ve anticipated this moment for us,” Cymora was saying. She touched my shoulder as if she had some kind of affection in her heart for me. “To think you are so…eager to have her. What are the next steps, then? You mentioned a protocol, Prince Falindel?”

Fal had a practiced face too, I saw him erase any sign of his emotions as he blinked and turned back to my stepmother. “She must be presented to our mother, the queen, for approval. Then we will be permitted to court her before she meets our fathers in a formal dinner. After that, we will take her into our pack bond. Finally, she will be introduced to the Unseelie Court. It’s tradition for her to be named princess at the autumn festival so our people can celebrate her together.”

“I see,” Cymora stated thoughtfully.

The dark elf flashed a hint of mischief my way. “It won’t take too long. Our parents have been eager to see us bachelors properly mated.”

“Do you think they—” I began to say, tentative to speak out while my stepmother was paying attention.

“When do we leave?” Cymora said over me.

Fal raised a brow. “We, Lady Cymora?” he echoed.

She rested a hand over her heart. “As Lark’s only remaining family, I must insist that Laurel and I accompany you all back to Serian. Who else will look after her honor before she earns the royal pack’s approval? And if she doesn’t…we wouldn’t want her to be left all alone and unwanted, now, would we?”

My breathing shallowed out. Stars, unwanted dug into my mind with vicious talons.

Tormund hands clenched and flexed. Something in his small eyes shifted. I caught a glimpse of his pupils turning orange-red, before he shut them tightly and took a few deep breaths. That looked like fire . Well, he must be a fire fae of some kind. Kauz patted his shoulder, murmuring something in Serian.

“We were only intending to take Lark with us,” Fal said.

Cymora gripped my knee again, squeezing. She stared me down, somehow promising every pain in the known world if I tried to exclude her and Laurel. The palpable threats shooting out of her expression were so potent that I feared I’d start bleeding then and there.

“If it’s possible, I would like them to come too,” I said. Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me again. I silently pleaded with Cymora with a wide-eyed glance.

Fal took a moment to consider my stepfamily and then me, his catlike pupils narrowing. Marius grunted two words in Serian to him, and the dark elf responded with a noncommittal hum.

“If your things are in order, we can leave as early as this evening,” Fal answered. “If such a short timeline is okay with Lark.”

“Of course it’s okay,” my stepmother said.

Fal pursed his lips and turned my way, waiting. There were a few murmurs amongst the princes as they voiced their opinions in Serian.

“Yes,” I rushed to say. “This evening will work.” It was infinitely better than returning to Osme Fen, knowing what awaited me there. I would have time to figure out a new strategy to find a better path for myself than Pack Ellisar.

Fal smiled slowly. “Excellent. Well, no time to waste. We must do some shopping for you, and then we’ll be eager to head home with you as our prize.”

“Why do you need to shop for her?” my stepmother asked.

“It is a long trip, Lady Cymora, and Serian is still frozen this time of year.”

“Lark already has things,” she deadpanned.

Fal’s courtly mask slipped and revealed a hint of derision. “You must be?—”

Tormund said something through a tight jaw and blew out a plume of smoke from the side of his mouth. He stood, stomping toward the stairs. “He is going to pack,” Kauz said, putting his palms up. “Nothing to worry about.”

“It is our honor to buy her the newest and best items that Ilysnor has to offer,” Fal added smoothly, having recovered during the distraction. “Perhaps we can entice you with a gift of coin to buy yourself and your daughter something as well?”

This melted any of Cymora’s lingering protests. Her face lit up at the prospect of free things.