Page 45 of His Dark Delights

Later in the night, when I’d bathed and dressed in the silken gown offered, I sat with Lunaric.

We were in the family chambers of the forest palace, a great round room loaded with cushioned chairs, low tables of fruit, and grand open windows and balconies.

From that high in the palace, I witnessed fluffy clouds tumbling over the dome of the fae woods.

“They shouldn’t call me princess,” I told him. “I’m a bastard daughter. Not trueborn like you.”

Lunaric shrugged a shoulder and sank deeper into his plush seat. “The fae aren’t concerned with things like that. Nymphs especially love having babies, so there’s not really a concept like bastards among our kind. Your mother is the queen, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’ll always be a farm girl at heart.”

“What’s in the heart is what matters most. Of course, that’s something you’d say.” He winked before popping a chunk of apple into his mouth.

“I suppose it is.” My fingers twiddled with the necklace I wore. Each time my thumb brushed over the moonstone, memories of what lurked in my heart washed over me.

Two weeks apart and the Butcher was coming our way, yet I couldn’t bear the thought of taking it off.

Soren and I weren’t so different. He was a bastard son of the human king, and I was a lost daughter of the fairy queen.

Those thoughts only strengthened my belief that the gods were cruel in how they played with our fates.

The Butcher knew the truth about me now. Did he despise me and the memories we shared? Was he coming to the Fae Wild to seek more of his self-righteous revenge?

Ellaria swept into the room with her loose, opaque gown made of spun spider silk flowing behind her. The sight of her copper-pink hair bundled into elegant braids and the prominent tips of her ears paused my thoughts.

How fae would I appear after tonight?

She paused, poised and graceful. Yet her lips thinned to hide a tremble in her smile. “Oh, my darlings. I’ll never grow tired of seeing the two of you simultaneously. Both my children are together at last.”

Lunaric leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You only say that because we both look like you. You birth little copies of yourself, and we’re very pretty for it.”

“Oh, you hush,” she tutted. Then she grinned. “Although you are lucky that all you got from your father were his wings. Gods, he was not a pretty man. May he rest in peace.”

“You never loved him, did you?” I asked, then paled from the inappropriate question.

Ellaria glanced at Lunaric before answering. “A sort of love formed between us. We’d been promised to one another since we were children. I was heartbroken after leaving you and Eddard, but Oberyn became a friend to me, despite his faults. He eased my grief.”

“He would have killed you and your father if he’d known about your existence. It’s better we met when we did,” my brother stated.

“Yes, well, let’s get on with this. Come, my darlings. We’re going to the temple.” She changed the subject but didn’t seem pleased either way. The last thing she wanted to do was unlock my fae essence. It would cause untold agony, but I needed to be whole.

I’d face the storm to come without flinching. That’s what the Fae Queen who charged into battle would do, and I was born of her blood.

The temple to the gods was another chamber nestled in one of the forest palace’s trees.

A large circular room with stained glass depictions of the gods encircling the ceiling.

Ethereal floating lights drifted aimlessly through the air, casting strange shadows and a mystical glow on the silver-blue wood.

Mother waved her hand, commanding the nature of the earth beneath our feet. A bed of flowers in every color wriggled from the ground, curling and bundling together. I held my breath, watching the ease of her magic as she built an altar from nothing.

Helping a garden grow and flowers bloom seemed paltry compared to her abilities.

Lunaric twined his fingers with mine, his presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of change.

Peering up at him, I felt the first squirming nerves awaken in my belly.

He watched me with a mixture of concern and pride.

I never imagined what it would be like to have a brother.

I was glad to have one with me now, and one I already shared a bond with, who stood beside me as I faced the truth of my heritage.

I laid down on the newly formed altar of flowers, comforted and embraced by them. Lunaric’s hand stayed on mine, keeping me grounded. Mother stood behind my head, breathing slowly as she placed her hands on my shoulders.

The Queen of Fairy sang a low, enchanting song in the ancient fae language.

Her voice was haunting, daring, and soothing.

Her hands on my shoulders, the melody of her voice, and the flowers at my back pacified the bristling nerves writhing like snakes under my skin.

As the queen’s chant rose and fell, the change crept in.

Ribbons of magic curled out from her fingers, green and sparkled like threads of emerald. Gradually, shades of sapphire, silver, and sunshine flowed out, joining the green, and each one curled around me. Magic sparked and fizzed on my skin, a new yet pleasant sensation .

The fingers of magic pried into the craggy depths of my soul.

They found a well, deep and untapped, full of untamed and trapped energy.

Vibrant colors of magic within me reached up, grasping for the tendrils digging in the crevices of my chest. She poured that magic into me.

Every ounce of it seeped through my skin and penetrated my bones.

The weaving magic caressed my soul at first. My eyes shut, and a gentle sigh flowed from me at the converging magic settling on my chest—

The sound on my lips dragged into a ragged groan.

Sharp, venomous thorns lacerated my insides.

My veins burst, burning like a wildfire, a searing heat that ignited every nerve.

Every bone in my body shattered into shards and were barely held together by the flayed mass of my melting muscles.

It was as though I was being remade, every cell, every fiber of my being unraveling and reweaving itself into something more.

I gasped, the air rushing into my lungs like a balm, the breath of life itself.

My senses exploded into clarity, the world around me unfurling in vivid color and sound.

I could hear the whisper of the wind through the temple, the soft murmur of the earth beneath me, the heartbeat of the world in all its grandeur and mystery.

The pain intensified, a crescendo that threatened to shatter me, yet I held on, drawing strength from the knowledge that this was my destiny, my birthright. The fae essence within me, long dormant, was awakening, unfurling like a flower in bloom, reaching for the light of my mother’s magic.

My groans became screams that scraped the inside of my throat. I screamed until my throat became raw, until it hurt too much to make any sound at all. I ground my teeth together, gnashing and gasping for breath .

Mother’s magic coiled around mine, latched on tight, and tugged. She unlocked the sea of untapped potential inside the core of my being. When my powers breached the surface, the dam she built upon my birth crashed inside of me.

Images flashed before my eyes, memories and dreams interwoven into a tapestry of past and future.

I saw my father, his kind eyes filled with love and sorrow as he cradled me in his arms. I saw the farm, the fields and the animals, the simple life that had been my refuge.

And I saw Soren, his face a study in strength and passion, the man who had captured my heart even as his duty demanded he destroy my kind.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, a release of emotion that mingled with the magic coursing through me.

I was changing, evolving, becoming something more than I had ever imagined.

The pain was a crucible, forging me anew, and with each wave of agony, I felt the barriers within me crumble, revealing the vast potential that lay beneath.

As the ritual reached its zenith and the pain faded, I heaved in a great breath of air, sucking it into my new lungs.

Every smell was crisp and clear, and so sharp I knew them all individually.

From the roses to the wisteria, to the daffodils, to the buttercups.

From the types of the wood that made up the palace to the layers of dirt beneath us.

And I could smell the magic. A zipping, tingling, sweet, and earthy scent.

“You did good, brave girl,” my brother whispered in my ear. His fingers tightened on my hand, reminding me he’d been by my side the entire time. “Welcome home, sister. ”

“Thank you. Thank you.” I hardly knew what I was saying. My mind remained clouded with lingering pain and the waning ache in my bones.

“You are truly one of us now, my daughter,” Mother said, her voice a soft echo in the silence that followed.

Her words resonated within me, a balm to the wounds of being forlorn and forsaken for so long.

I was no longer alone, not a creature caught between worlds, but a part of something greater, a family that spanned the divide that had once seemed insurmountable.

“Here, drink this,” Mother spoke, pressing a cup to my lips. I nodded, unable to speak, my heart too full for words.

Lunaric helped me up, and I rolled forward, cringing at the throbbing discomfort. I accepted the drink, swallowing every drop. The honeyed liquid eased the ache in my throat.

“Is that fae wine?” I rasped.

“Don’t worry, sister, it won’t affect you as it did before. Your body can handle it now.”

“Yes,” Mother agreed, “you’ve changed, darling. Your fae blood has fully awoken, and you appear as you always should have now. Fae blood is potent, Lilly. You’re barely human at all now.”

As the echoes of the ritual faded into the depths of the temple, I felt a sense of wholeness settle over me, a calm certainty that whatever lay ahead, I would face it with loved ones and courage.

Because I was not alone—family surrounded me, as did tender emotion and the strength of my newfound identity.

Yet I wondered… How did I look now? Would Soren still love me in my new form?

Why… Why was I thinking of him? Had I not su ffered enough?

Creaking, groaning wood cleaved through the silence. Ellaria and Lunaric glanced up to the temple doors. A dryad warrior strode into the sanctuary, bringing a cold, panicked energy. He wore armor like bark, and his hand curled tight on the sword at his hip.

“Your Majesties, I am sorry to interrupt.” His jade green eyes flicked to me where I trembled and forced myself upright on the altar. Surprise and hunger danced in his gaze.

“Well, what is it?” Mother prompted.

The dryad cleared his throat, standing straighter. “It’s the human king, Your Grace. His army has breached the last defenses of the Angfern Mountains and made it through the Mistwood. The Fairy Butcher will reach the edge of the Fae Wild by dawn.”