Page 16 of Monster’s Consort (Blackthorn Academy for Supernaturals #18)

Violet

When I walked into Cheeky’s with Wanda and Delaney, I couldn’t help but smile. Though pubs were not a place I usually favored, I couldn’t deny that the ambiance and the air inside the place were strangely warm and comforting.

Music filled the air along with chatter and everything smelled so good.

But the minute I laid my eyes on Bane, sitting at the bar with Norman and Desmond, my heart warmed a little more.

They were talking. None of them were trying to kill one another, and no one was shaking beneath their human visage. They looked well and truly friendly.

The respite of retail therapy was not my cup of tea, though Delaney and Wanda seemed to have had a fruitful excursion, evidenced by the bags full of clothes and beauty products they were carrying.

We’d visited a few boutiques, none of them catered to my size. I hadn’t wanted to be a downer, so I kept my mouth shut and let the fairer folk shop until they dropped.

It wasn’t that I was jealous or envious of my friends. Far from it. But growing up, I hadn’t really encountered the girlfriend shopping spree experience before attending Blackthorn. Delaney and I had come here once, but we hadn’t gone shopping. Or drinking.

Bane met me halfway, almost instantly.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he said, leaning down to kiss my cheek, and I could not fight the blush.

Wanda grunted behind me as Delaney let out a swoon-worthy ‘aw’.

“I hope you had more fun than me,” he said, sliding an arm around me. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked from Wanda to Delaney to me. “Where is your bag of goodies?”

“Oh, I’m not much of a shopper,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you hungry?”

I grinned at him. “Depends what’s on the menu,” I said coyly.

Delaney and Wanda had taken their seats at the bar. Desmond had given up his seat to Delaney, and Wanda had gracefully taken the spot Bane was sitting at. Thankfully, there were two open seats next to Norman, where Bane guided us.

“Well, perhaps we can start with the fish and chips and a pint and end it with your sweet, sweet?—”

“Well, well, look who it fucking is!” A familiar voice cut through the air. We all turned, and Bane’s smile instantly grew at the sight of its owner.

“Aiden!” Bane’s voice lilted as he slipped away from me, pulling his roommate into a hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Aiden asked. “Shouldn’t you be, like, on a honeymoon or some shit?”

“We are bound, not married. Not yet, anyway,” Bane said, holding the man out.

His words settled on me and I felt a sting of sadness as the truth swirled.

We were bound, yes, but there was still the chance the council could deny him as my consort.

Though I knew it wouldn’t matter where our bond was concerned, hearing that word leave his lips—married—I realized perhaps I wanted more than for Bane to be acknowledged as my consort in a political fashion.

I wanted to be married in the traditional sense, too. In the human sense, and not just the fae sense.

I’d grown up dreaming of a wedding the same way probably every little girl did, though I was certain it was just a dream. I didn’t think there was a boy out there for me, not when I barely had friends, and certainly not looking as I did.

But Blackthorn changed all of those notions. I’d found my friends, and I’d certainly found a boy who was more than satisfied with what I had to offer—emotionally and physically.

Still, I knew a consort must undergo a litany of things to be deemed viable and to be confirmed as an attaché to the queen, but being a consort was not equal to being a king. To make Bane a king , we would have to marry.

The thought of Bane as my king—King of Lir—made my breath catch and my thighs warm with moisture.

To see him on a throne... those infernal tattoos glowing, those big, beautiful wings on display...

“Violet? Earth to Violet...” Delaney snapped her fingers in front of me, and I realized I had spaced out completely.

Did Bane want that?

Marriage?

It wasn’t something we’d talked about. Yes, his consort confirmation was sort of a marriage—perhaps even close to such in incubus terms, thanks to his claim, but it still was not a traditional marriage in the sense that he would rule at my side.

It was only a position to confirm him as my mate who could give me an heir.

Which... the thought alone made me stiffen with anxiety.

Weddings, heirs...

It all seemed to be moving quite fast, but I wanted those things... right?

“I’m sorry, I’m just?—”

Wanda presented me with a drink that was not a pint. It was a glass of dark, crimson liquid, and upon a sniff, I detected the smell of berries. I did not ask what it was and instead, took a rather large gulp.

Perhaps it would settle my nerves.

I watched Bane out of the corner of my eye with Aiden, chatting, catching up. Norman and Desmond had joined them, and they all seemed to be laughing about something.

“Are you all right?” Delaney asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, taking the seat Desmond had vacated.

Wanda swirled her straw around her glass and I took another drink out of my glass. Whatever she had given me was delicious.

The music filled the space and I watched as Norman took the stage.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Wanda cursed. “What does he think he’s doing?”

When the beginning notes of Jolly Sailor Bold filled the air, it was hard to look away.

I was surprised to hear Norman could sing. In class, he was always goofing off, and outside of it, he was always causing some sort of mischief with and without his tentacles.

But as he stood there, the spotlight shining on him and the shadows blanketing him, I realized perhaps there was more to Norman Chee than what was at first glance.

His voice was smooth and dare I say, haunting.

“I didn’t know Norman could sing,” Delaney said in shock.

“Me either,” I said. I turned to Wanda, noticing she was as still as a statue, her gaze fixated on the Kraken who was belting out a croon-worthy line about not being able to be consoled.

“He has a great voice,” Delaney said.

“Yes, he does,” Wanda said, shaking her head as if she, too, had remembered where she was.

I noted the faintest glimmer in her teal eyes.

It almost looked as if she was crying. But Wanda Fischman did not cry over anything.

Though I supposed alcohol could make you do strange things sometimes, so I did not press her about it.

Instead, I offered her a smile and said, “You should go up there.”

She waved me off. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You’re a siren, isn’t singing, like, your one true passion?” The way Delaney said the words were tinged with alcohol but there was also a sort of understated knowing to them.

It wasn’t a question. It was a careful suggestion. Like somehow, she knew what Wanda’s passions were.

“My song is dangerous,” Wanda said darkly. “Singing alone is... dangerous.”

“Then we’ll go with you.” As she said the words, Delaney slipped off her chair. It wasn’t a question. It was solid fact.

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed. “Delaney...”

“Violet’s totally game, right, Vi?”

I blinked as the crowd clapped, watching Norman bow, his tentacles all moving in tandem like arms placed before him as he took his bow.

“Uh...”

I had never sung in front of a crowd before. I barely sang alone in my room back home , and in the shower at Blackthorn.

But something about the look on Wanda’s face—I knew what uncomfortability felt like, and I also knew how much of a relief it was to know people had your book.

And Wanda did have my back. When it mattered the most, anyway.

So, I nodded and prayed I hadn’t just signed my own death certificate.

My stomach was starting to swirl with nerves as Delaney grabbed both of us and practically dragged us up to the stage, whispering her song choice to the man who was working the music booth.

“Last chance to leave,” I said humorously to Wanda as we stood under the lights. Though I wasn’t certain I wouldn’t leave myself, from the anxiety bustling in my veins.

I looked out into the crowd, catching Bane’s curious expression. He looked at me from his periphery and I could see his delicious smirk, and the wave of anxiety settled.

“We would never hear the end of it from Delaney,” Wanda tutted.

“At least this will sate her whims for the time being.”

It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it. Like she knew what Delaney’s desires and whims were on a personal level.

And then I caught her gaze drifting to the Kraken in the audience. He slithered into the small huddle comprised of Bane, Aiden, and Desmond.

Desmond turned his face and looked at me. There was a brief moment between Delaney’s request, and the start of the music, when it felt like time stopped, and Desmond’s purple eyes glowed.

And the vision that came was least expected.

I saw the once overgrown castle that called me home, in the dark woods. It was still covered in vines and dead plants. The moon hung in the sky. Flashes of my Ardaim pushed forth, along with the memory of Bane and my friends coming to my rescue, and then things shifted.

I was not on the ground, being lit up by magic.

It was Desmond. Large black wings shook and he was huddled over, the vines retreating from him as if they were scared. He was in full incubus form, huddled over.

Crying.

“Why isn’t it working?” a woman’s voice cried.

Lithia.

His mother.

“Because he’s defective, that’s why,” a man snapped.

Sirus.

His father.

“Perhaps he is not as pure of blood as you say he is,” the king bit.

“But we’ve done everything...” his mother cried. “Surely, we’ve made some mistake...”

I watched as Desmond pulled his legs up to his chest. He sat there in the woods, upon the Ardaim altar . Naked, shivering. His wings curled around himself, and he was alone.

Purple magic ebbed around him, but it pushed the life away.

He pushed it all away...

And then, just like the wind, the vision was gone. His purple eyes glanced away, and I wondered if he saw it, too.