Page 52 of Fated or Knot (UnseelieVerse: The Omega Masquerade #1)

52

LARK

T he queen waved for me to come over. The gazebo had a central table with eight sides, each with a small bench. Nemensia and her two mates had me circle around it for hugs, even Elion, who intercepted me first with a brief, warm purr that helped me shake off the lingering feeling of being overwhelmed by Theodred’s presence. Thalas gestured for me to sit between him and Nemensia, and I settled there.

“Would you like some tea, Lark?” Elion invited. His voice still radiated comforting approval, underlain by his alpha’s authority.

“Yes, please.”

I wasn’t sure of the etiquette of taking tea with royalty, but the tea set was closest to him. He started pouring and stirring before I could move, generously dishing out spoonfuls of sugar as he spoke. “I’ll prepare your cup as my mate prefers it, and we can adjust from there.”

“That’s a good idea,” Thalas commented. He had an ink kit set out next to him, and looked at me with something like regret tightening his lips. Those starry eyes were downturned at the corners. “You look like you’ve already endured a full day’s trials. I take it you’ve spoken with Rennyn?”

“And Theodred. He definitely gave her the tattoo talk,” Elion said with another poorly disguised chuckle.

I nodded and held my arm out to the dream warden king, resigned for the suppressant tattoo. He slid closer and peered at the remnants of his handiwork, clucking his tongue.

Elion stood and slid a cup of tea before me and narrowed his yellow eyes on the small inner mark where I’d once had intricately looping ink. He exchanged a glance with Thalas and his jaw clenched. “Rennyn isn’t the authority in clever plans, despite the title he chose for himself.” The buzz of alpha’s authority in his voice turned chilly with disapproval. “Surely there’s some other way.”

“It’ll buy us time to think of a better idea,” Thalas answered in a low voice.

“I’ll be okay. I’ve suppressed my heat for this long,” I ventured.

Elion’s gaze slid back to me. “How do you like the tea?” It was nearly uncanny how, just from his tone, I felt a sense of approval from him again. I needed to ask someone how he was doing that, and if it was a projection of his true feelings or something he controlled at a whim.

I took a testing sip while he waited, and I brightened from the moment it hit my tongue. It was more warm milk and honey than tea, though it had a pleasant aftertaste of spices. “Delicious!” No wonder, with how much sugar I’d seen him add to the cup.

“I’m glad you like it. As to the matter of your heat, there are consequences to manipulating your body for so long. My mate can explain it better than I can.”

“For another time,” Nemensia put in. “Now is not the moment to argue about the way forward.”

“She needs to be with our son, my heart. That is a fact. It’s not healthy for a newly bonded couple to be apart for this long,” he replied, though he took his seat again with a short, refined version of the kelpie snort Marius tended to do when irritated. “I believe his extended period of rut is a direct answer to your built-up heat, Lark.”

I considered, before nodding in agreement. The rut had started, and stuck around, since the moment we’d finished the kelpie bond. I still worried about how he was doing without me.

While Nemensia and Elion gazed into one another’s eyes, their expressions contorting like they were having a wordless conversation via their own bond, Thalas prepared his brushes and told me in an undertone, “Suppressing your heat was a three to two vote amongst the royal pack. Elion believes the grievance clause Rennyn is worried about will be rendered null just by the fact that you and Marius have completed a kelpie bond. Rennyn argued that he was being emotional about an unpredictable, and illogical, force of magic.”

“Who voted with Elion?” I whispered back.

Thalas smiled and gestured to his chest. “This pack that’s harassed you would need to show their faces to claim a grievance. I don’t believe they possess the stones to do so, and Fal could make himself impossible to find. However, Elion and I were outvoted, so this is hot air.” He pointed between the queen and her lord, still locked in their private moment.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but…” I said tentatively.

“You believe you and our sons should have a say in the matter?”

“Well, yes. It’s my heat we’re talking about.”

“I don’t disagree,” he said, inclining his head. “However, Pack Sorles is next in line for Serian’s throne, and anything that threatens the line of succession gets my pack’s undivided attention. And anything that threatens you gains the immediate ire of my mate, as well. She reserves the right to make decisions for Pack Sorles, as reigning queen.”

Nemensia’s attention turned our way. “That’s right. And we owe you a fresh start, Metalark, which means these males will not be skulking around with a grievance in hand. Or even without one. There will be no skulking .”

“As my mate demands, I echo. No skulking permitted,” Elion proclaimed, regarding her with a quirk of his lips. “The matter of the mermaids will also be dealt with.”

“I’m sorry about the suppressant, but it is the only way forward. You will take it and let us plan, right?” She clasped her hands and fixed me with an earnest smile.

I couldn’t say no to that face. “Yes, Mom.”

Elion shook his head and muttered something about consequences as Thalas got to work repairing the suppressant tattoo. I privately mourned losing the feeling of impending heat as my core chilled incrementally with each swipe of ink.

It was a familiar, if unpleasant, sensation for my body’s needs to retract forcefully from the effect of someone else’s magic. Disappointment replaced kindling heat and I sighed unhappily. I thought I was past this.

The dream warden king was still working when Lon returned with a curtsy for the royalty and a box of tools in hand. “Princess, Prince Marius requests a lock of your hair.”

Elion perked up. “You’d best take two, just in case. I remember when I tried to get my braids right for the first time.”

“You kept asking for more of my hair. I thought you’d leave me bald!” Nemensia laughed.

“It’s harder than it looks, my heart, and I was too proud to ask for help.”

I nodded to the house moth and whispered, “Did he like the feathers?”

“He loved them,” she giggled. “He’s very excited. Prince Kauzden is going to help him keep them nice with some magic.” She brushed my hair while humming a cheery tune, which I recognized with a zing of excitement, and ended up humming with her.

“Dad, um.” I glanced between the two kings.

“When there’s two of us, just refer to us by name. It’s easier,” Thalas said.

“May I ask you a question, King Elion?” I asked politely.

“Just ‘Elion’, and aye, ask away.”

“What’s the significance of the things you have braided in your hair?”

After receiving Theodred’s tattoo talk, I figured it was time I learned why the kings styled themselves the way they did. Rennyn with all his tricks and misdirections was an ongoing enigma to me, but my other bonus dads seemed to be straightforward in their choices.

Elion beamed and lifted the first of his three braids. “Ah, well there’s the classic, a lock of Nemensia’s hair braided into mine. The next one is a selection of her rings.”

The queen sighed dramatically. He reached over to rest his hand over hers. She batted her lashes up at him, while he regarded her fondly. I could practically feel their love for one another from here, and hoped I looked like that with my four mates someday.

“My heart has many differently sized rings. Pregnancy changes finger size,” he continued. “And our quarters had something of a ring explosion when she was carrying Tormund.”

“My fingers swelled so much during that pregnancy,” Nemensia bemoaned. “Also, he’s holding my favorite ring captive in the middle of that braid!”

“It won’t fit on your finger right now.” He seemed to rethink this statement when she crinkled her brow in the beginnings of a scowl. “I mean, I’ve been meaning to get it resized for you.”

She lifted her nose. “Hmph.”

“And finally, Lark, the third braid is symbols. If your handmaiden wasn’t taking a lock of your hair, I’d have you come look.” He lifted it, and a set of silver charms hung down, each the size of my thumbnail or so. “One for each child, from Fal’s guiding star at the top, to a ray of sunshine at the bottom for my little Happy Fins. And though it upset my mate for a time, I never removed the p’nixie wings.” He felt his braid with his other hand and flicked the third charm from the bottom, just above Tormund and Ambriel’s.

Even from across the table, the charm looked like a set of four purple pixie wings painted on the silver circle. My lips started to get wobbly. I hadn’t even realized he’d included me so casually with his pack-born children.

“Now I’m glad he didn’t,” Nemensia added, giving me a gentle smile.

“My mate does occasionally see my wisdom,” Elion said gravely, though his voice emanated affection.

“Okay, all done,” Lon put in cheerfully.

Thalas chuckled. “I am done as well. It should hold for two days, or so. And that’s without doing anything to damage it.”

My eyes widened. Only two days? And that was with no sex? My heat was coming with a vengeance no matter what, it seemed.

“We’re running out of time.” Elion took a long sip of his tea and shrugged. “Fewer hours for our children to suffer as Rennyn makes his overcomplicated plots. Let’s see who’s right, in the end.”

Jani came to the gazebo about thirty minutes later with a backpack for me. “For your rugged outdoor adventure, Princess,” she’d announced in a joyful squeak. She let me hug her, too, and none of the royals commented. How did they get through their days without hugging at least one of the perpetually sunny house moths that helped all through the palace? They probably didn’t.

Tormund was not far behind my handmaiden. He seemed subdued as he said hello to the three royals, hugs included.

“Please limit your time to two nights. She needs to return before her suppressant breaks,” Elion said.

“Okay, Dad,” Tormund answered, flashing a brief smile his way and resting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m taking my mate away now.”

I said my goodbyes and glanced anxiously at my gentle giant as we walked back the way I’d come with his father earlier. He seemed to be heading straight for the stables. “Is something wrong?” I asked with a hint of a whine.

He blew a curl of smoke from the side of his mouth. “Our date is getting rushed. I’m just disappointed, li’l bird. I know I crashed your date with Kauz and that wasn’t fair to him, but I wanted you to spend some time here with…you’ll see.” He gestured to a paddock beyond the stables and angled toward it. “It’s a surprise.”

Poor Tormund. He’d seemed so excited about what he’d planned for our date time, earlier. We just had to make the most of having it shorted to two days. “Oh, I love surprises,” I said.

He stopped at the fence to pick up a bucket full of cut pieces of fruit and carrots, and put his other arm around me. He clicked his tongue until a huge, shaggy-furred mare trotted over with an eager toss of her head. “This is my girl, Rory. I already have the stable hands socializing her with the new arrival,” he said while feeding her a chunk of apple.

My fingertips tingled as I leaned past Rory to catch sight of this new arrival. There were a couple other horses in the paddock right now. One was of the same breed as Rory, while the other…

Oh, stars, she was gorgeous. She was visibly a few hands shorter than her companions, built with finer bones due to her unicorn heritage. I forgot how to breathe when I noticed the short silver horn poking from her forehead, no more than four inches long.

Full-blooded unicorns were small and frail creatures, said to have horns the length of swords, and a requirement for beautiful virgins as their riders. As a kid, I’d dreamed of riding one, but even as a petite p’nixie I was probably too big. And, well, not a virgin either.

A half-unicorn, as this mare had to be, was an excellent middle ground. She wouldn’t care about my status and I just knew she had every bit of beauty that her unicorn parent carried, from her coat as pure a white as fresh snow and hooves that sparkled with silver glitter. Her mane and tail were lavender, and looked silky soft.

I turned a gleeful look toward my mate, who was grinning broadly. I latched onto his arm and exclaimed, “ Tormund !”

“I told you I was going to buy you a half-unicorn horse,” he said.

“That’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen! What do you mean? You really bought her for me?”

“I did! I got her here as fast as I could. Her former owners couldn’t maintain her upkeep, and…oh, hello.” He was momentarily distracted as the second shaggy mare approached us and Rory wandered off, content with the treats she’d received.

He passed me the bucket and I happily fed this horse. “This girl belongs to Kauz. He’s going to be shadowing us.”

“Really?” I glanced around, but there was no sign of my beloved kinky bat. I supposed “shadowing” didn’t include him riding with us like a chaperone.

“It’s only fair, and he’ll help keep you safe,” Tormund continued. “And, I’m sorry, li’l bird, but you’ll be riding with me. Dad wants me to rush you out of here, but there’s no rushing the adjustment process for an animal. Your new horse needs to get used to you first.”

“Aw.” I knew he had to be right. My only horse had been Meya, and she’d already been quite used to me since she’d been my father’s mare first. “Well, I’d still love to feed her a treat and say hi before we leave. Where are we going on our rugged outdoor adventure, by the way?”

He winked. “You just told me you love surprises. We’d better leave soon, though, to get there before dark.”

I tingled with excited by the prospect of another pleasant surprise. I held up a carrot and tried wiggling it at the half-unicorn enticingly from a distance. To my surprise, she crossed the paddock and came right up to me. Each fall of her hoof sent up silver sparkles of magic. I amended my earlier assumption: with a good dose of unicorn magic in her blood, she’d be really fast at top speed.

She munched right through the carrot and waited patiently for more. “You are such a pretty girl,” I cooed, offering her the last dregs in the bucket at this point. Once she’d eaten it all, she remained by the fence. Those soulful, liquid dark eyes inspected me.

She didn’t seem like a new, skittish horse, unsure of her place in the herd. When I reached for her, she remained in place, flaring her nostrils to take in my scent.

“I wouldn’t—” Tormund was beginning to say, before stopping himself as the half-unicorn eased a little closer and pressed her muzzle into my palm. I stroked her velvety face almost reverently.

“How old did you say she was?” I whispered.

“Five years.”

An adult, then. She was experienced enough to know what she wanted. I wondered if unicorn blood gave her more intelligence too. If so, she was formidable indeed, if clever Meya was anything to go off of.

“Would you like to go on an adventure with us, pretty girl?” I asked. As if she’d understand. She pawed at the ground and neighed, which I took as a yes. I turned my head to give Tormund a hopeful look, not realizing she was mirroring me and doing the same thing.

He scratched the back of his head. “We could see if she’ll let us saddle her…”

As we walked toward the stables, the half-unicorn kept pace on the other side of the fence. Once we were past the paddock, he told me in a low voice, “Her last owners said she was trouble with a capital-T.”

I huffed, offended on her behalf. “What did they mean by that?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Unicorn offspring are usually too smart for their own good. You should be fine, li’l bird, she seems to like you. But we’re coming right back if she gives you any problems.”

“Of course,” I agreed. My wings practically vibrated with excitement.

As we came back with the proper equipment, he was in the middle of telling me her old owners called her Stella. “You can rename her how you like,” he said.

She apparently heard him and made a whinny that seemed like a sharp protest. “Stella it is,” I remarked. Stella heard me and posed prettily so her lavender mane and tail flowed in the wind. Oh, she was trouble in the good way. She and I could be good friends. Adventure buddies, for certain.

Tormund was more leery about all this, and made sure to lead me through a proper greeting and introduction to Stella, as he probably would between any horse and its new rider. She remained relaxed through the process and gave the occasional snort of approval until he admitted that she seemed ready to go with us. “But I’m watching you,” he whispered to her while gesturing to his eyes.

Stella accepted a saddle and let me mount her without a single nicker of complaint. Her stride was a jaunty bounce as Tormund led us through a few exercises together and double-checked my technique and riding knowledge. Once he was relatively sure she wasn’t going to rebel and I wasn’t going to fall off of her, he gathered up Rory and led us into the forest down a well-trampled trail.

I took in the trail, lined on either side by tree branches full of tiny green buds. As we left the bustle of fae life behind us, the forest came alive with the singing of insects and the call of animals back and forth. I took a deep breath, savoring a lung full of fresh air marked by the barest bite of pollen. Serian didn’t seem to burst straight into bloom with spring, but my pixie side still hummed with the sense that it was being coaxed slowly from the land around us.

“I remember someone mentioning racing,” I eventually said, looking way up at Tormund as we rode side by side down the trail. Rory’s height, plus his, put him way above me even now. Yet I knew I could win any race with my prancing horse. Stella still seemed ecstatic to be taken on our adventure.

“Once you train her! I’m not ready to lose yet. Neither is my girl.” He patted Rory’s neck affectionately.

Stella snorted loudly when he mentioned “training.” Stars, she understood that too?

“Okay, okay. We’ll just win later,” I giggled. My horse tossed her mane in apparent agreement.

Tormund scoffed. “I don’t lose. I have the trophies to prove it.”

I asked what manner of trophies, which just launched him into the story of how he and all his siblings started having annual tournaments that they’d made up, with “suitably grand” trophies and plaques. Started out of sheer boredom with the card game Liar Liar, well before any of them had manifested their designations, it slowly grew to include every game that could be halfway competitive, and every sibling, down to little Happy Fins.

“No wonder you all were so competitive about Liar Liar when we were traveling,” I mused. “When is the next tournament?”

“Oh, the autumn festival! We all usually have time off during it,” he said happily. “Just a warning, I’m not going to take it easy on you because you’re my mate, li’l bird.”

“What? I don’t…” I didn’t expect that I’d be included in the tradition. “I was just going to watch.”

“No need,” he said cheerfully. “I’m inviting you right now.”

“Okay, but that means you’re teaching me every competitive game and at least some tricks,” I said.

He glanced at me with his version of Unseelie mischief, which was just a big smile. “Is that a deal?” He offered one of his broad palms to shake, and I did without hesitation. “We’ll start right away!”

I grinned back. “Looking forward to it.” I didn’t even need to be good at any of said games, just closer to his enthusiasm.

We lapsed into a companionable silence for a brief time. I appreciated the beauty of the outdoors and the forest as we traveled further into the wilderness. It was only in this quiet space between moments that I thought of the likes of Pack Ellisar. With the innate talent of barkfolk to assimilate themselves against trees, the trio could be anywhere in the woods around us, watching us and waiting to jump out of the bushes.

I pictured Floris’s fangs in a box and made a soft scoff. Don’t be ridiculous. They wouldn’t try anything. Not while I rode beside Tormund, who could set them aflame in one deadly breath. Still, I couldn’t help but inspect any irregular shadows or twitch at unusual noises like it could be them .

“Hey, Tormund,” I said, not wanting to dwell with the worries bouncing around in my head.

“Aye, li’l bird.”

Though it seemed we were past his original feelings of disappointment, I felt this needed to be said. “I’m happy to be out here with you, even if we have to cut the date short this time. You know there’s going to be so many more dates, right? Especially with how excited Stella is to be out with us.”

His expression softened, and he nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry if I came across negatively. I’m glad I get to have time with you, no matter how long or short it is, or how rushed. What matters is that you’re safe and you’re…” He seemed to hiccup, and coughed up a bit of hot steam. “Mine,” he added in a more raspy tone.

My eyes widened. Is that…?

“And I get to share my home away from home with you and Stella,” he added in his usual bright tone.

“That’s right. Um, did you talk to Fal or Marius earlier?”

Tiny twin fires flickered behind his spectacles for a moment, before he rolled his eyes, which extinguished them. “Just Fal. He wanted to make sure I knew a few things, but mostly wanted to exaggerate what he’d do if something happens to you.”

“Did you?—”

“You know I’d never let anything bad happen ever , right?” he continued overtop me with an air of alarm. “And not because Fal said, um. Inappropriate things for me to repeat to you.”

I started to smile despite myself, assuming there was profanity involved. “Tormund, it’s?—”

“Not okay. Don’t say it’s okay to curse in front of you. You’re a princess,” he proclaimed.

“Tormund,” I sighed.

“What?”

“Did you shield your pack bond?”

“Oh! Aye, of course I did.” He hesitated, parting his lips, before closing his mouth. Then he drew a breath to add, “We talked about your heat. He was happy to hear you’re saving yourself for him. You are still doing that, right? I assumed, even with the new suppressant tattoo…”

I hadn’t exactly flaunted the tattoo, but I figured Rennyn had mentioned it to one of them. “It’s a good idea.” I said it gently, worried it would upset him since our time together would have to remain chaste. “I don’t want to go into heat if it leads to a grievance. I’m sorry, the timing…my body won’t let us delay much longer.”

When I glanced up, it was to see him beaming with his usual cheer. “We have plenty of other things to do. Just you wait.”

Stars, I loved this gentle giant. I returned his smile, knowing my eyes gleamed with admiring stars by how I seemed to dazzle him.

There weren’t any other quiet pauses between us. Tormund mostly filled the air, gladly telling me stories. He had no qualms about sharing embarrassing information about my other mates, and I tried not to bend over giggling too much. Stella tilted her ears back to listen.

We rode until sundown, arriving at a massive hunting lodge just as the shadowy shapes of flying house moths were lighting the essence lamps lining its eaves. It was three stories by the pattern of small windows lining its sides. “I’m here so often, it’s like my second home,” Tormund said with a grand gesture of his arm. “The winter lodge.”

“Oh?” I asked curiously.

“Managing the hunters, mostly,” he explained. “Something always goes wrong with them, no matter the season. This is one of the hubs that serves the hunters that keep us city-folk fed, so you may see a few of them around. I’ve got two permanent rooms here.”

I admired it as we approached. The first level was built with decorative stonework, while the upper levels were wood paneled. A pair of satyrs came to take our mounts, and Tormund led me up the front steps, happily chattering about dinner. My belly rumbled, reminding me abruptly that I hadn’t had much more than tea and some trail rations today. That scone I’d fed to Once Else’s metalarks felt like a wasted opportunity now.

An alpha mothkin bowed deeply by the door. He was a hulking male, his sheer size and prominent fangs seeming an exaggeration from the little house moths I knew, though he had the same oversized red eyes and fuzzy antennae naturally curved backward over his head. He wore a dark green tunic and pants that strained to hold his muscles and midnight black fur. “Good evening, Prince Tormund. We have the kitchen and your quarters prepared for you,” he said.

My mate thanked him and introduced us. This was Head Moth Wirr—his name was more of a mouth noise than I was familiar with—the steward of the lodge. Wirr puffed with pride and bowed to me as well. “Welcome, Princess. We aim to deliver the best hospitality this side of Neslune.”

I smiled back, sure I would see more of him and his staff’s hospitality. The lodge was familiar in a way the palace couldn’t match…it was just a little earthy. Even with a house moth staff, hunters, their kills, and their trophies had a particular smell and it lingered. I’d scented it plenty in Osme Fen and come to terms with the necessity of hunting for survival.

Plus, there wasn’t an overwhelming amount of fae around. The common area had two in total, a beta dark elf with an unstrung bow and a quiver resting at her feet, and a grimalkin alpha hunched over a bloody meal. He glanced up and his eyes dilated in a telltale way, before he released a chuff in our direction and went back to tearing into his undercooked food. Feral. A hunting job would be perfect for a male like him.

Tormund greeted both the dark elf and grimalkin by name as we walked to the stairs, passing under the glassy stare of dozens of mounted heads of various impressive beasts. They lined the second story railing from the entranceway all the way to the stone hearth crackling away to ward off the lingering chill of evening.

Tormund took me up to the third floor, slowing his stride as I climbed the stairs stiffly, feeling my hours on Stella’s back. Fucking stairs…

He let me into his room, a corner suite overlooking the forest. It was sure to be a beautiful view, come morning. “Feel free to use the rain room. I’m going to get dinner started,” he said cheerfully. After stealing a quick peck on my cheek, he ducked out of the room.

I poked through his room, sniffing around to little avail. His room had been thoroughly cleaned of his scent, and it was a small space by the standards of a prince, with enough room for a bed big enough for him, a dresser full of clothes, and a couple boxes of brightly colored toys that looked like they were for pet cats or dogs.

It was only when I was gratefully standing under a weak stream of water in the adjoining rain room that I wondered, did he mean he was going to make dinner himself?