Page 31 of Redemption (Deliverance Duet #2)

Chapter Thirty

Iris

W alking along the raised platforms with Ciaran on one side and Alaric on the other, I can’t help but wish Nyx was here with us. Blaise brings up the rear of our group, and I am grateful for his presence, but I’m aching for my mate. I should be grateful for the fact that I have Alaric back and two of my mates here with me, and I am, but I always seem to be without one of them, and it leaves an empty space in my soul. While I knew Nyx would have to attend to his responsibilities as the god of death, I thought I would at least see him occasionally. This hasn’t happened though. Ever since he brought us here, he’s been away. My chest aches with the distance between us, and while I know he’s not harmed, I get the feeling something is off.

How do I explain that to the others? Nyx is a god, he can handle himself, so I just have to trust that he will come back to me.

Taking a deep breath, I push the discomfort aside and glance at the fae to my right. Alaric’s hand is wrapped tightly around mine, his expression strained as we walk through the Unseelie city.

Our… activities last night seem to have healed Alaric in a way traditional healing couldn’t. Sex and intimacy strengthened our bond, and in turn that helped soothe the damage done by his father and our separation. To keep himself alive during his captivity, he delved deeply inside himself as all aspects of Prince Alaric were chipped away and all that remained was his primal self.

It will be a long time until he’s fully back to the male he once was, but his personality is shining through, and I can see the Alaric I fell in love with. His protective behaviours are still very strong, but Blaise seems to think this will fade as time goes on and the bond strengthens. I hope he’s right.

A tall, spindly fae gets a little too close to us on the platform, almost brushing shoulders with Alaric. It’s accidental, the creature wasn’t paying attention, but Alaric snarls in warning, baring his teeth at the creature and growling in such a vicious way that even I feel chills.

We all stop, the tension suddenly sky high as we assess the situation. Ciaran is frowning at the interaction, looking slowly between the fae. The long-limbed fae scowls, but after taking one look at Ciaran on my other side, the creature steps back with a deflated hiss.

“Easy,” Blaise cautions behind us, standing close enough that he can jump in if needed, but also giving Alaric some space. The implications of the Seelie prince attacking one of the Unseelie in their own city would be disastrous.

This isn’t a Seelie versus Unseelie issue though. I can feel his intentions, and he is acting purely on instinct. We could have been in the Seelie city and he would have acted the same way, no matter the fae.

I stroke my thumb over the back of his hand, waiting for him to finish assessing the situation and seeing there’s no threat. The tall fae walks away with a shake of his head, muttering something under his breath about possessive males and their mates. The irony of the situation makes me want to laugh aloud. The Seelie was ready to attack, while the Unseelie stepped away from a potential fight. It goes against every story I’ve been told.

The tension drains from Alaric by the second. Watching him closely, I see the exact moment he regains control, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. Releasing a long breath, he glances down at me and smiles slightly, pulling me into a walk once more. I smile back, letting him feel the strength of my love for him.

“Sorry,” he mutters a moment later, the reluctance in his tone telling me who his apology is aimed at.

Ciaran picks up on it too and snorts, shooting him a smug grin. “No harm done. Just try not to snarl at the queen,” he teases, winking as though he’s telling us a secret. “She’s not so forgiving.”

It seems that fae males like to goad each other just as much as human ones do. I shake my head but don’t bother to say anything. Alaric isn’t a porcelain doll, he can handle a bit of ribbing without me stepping in. Ciaran was so good with Alaric last night, but I suppose it’s too much to hope that they might have formed a tentative friendship.

The city passes by in flashes of lanterns and the unusual fae who reside here, and the rest of our journey is quiet and uneventful. Alaric’s awe reaches me through the bond, his quiet joy shining through. Not wanting to interrupt, I stay silent at his side, enjoying the company.

“This place is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.” I don’t think Alaric meant to speak aloud, his voice hushed with wonder, but he doesn’t seem bothered about admitting his admiration, focused fully on the buildings and platforms around us.

“Wait until you see their palace,” Blaise comments with a chuckle, one that I return, remembering my reaction the first time I saw it.

Turning so he can look over his shoulder at Blaise without letting go of my hand, he frowns and gestures with his free arm. “How did we not know about any of this? Their city is huge, and look at the fae here!” Huffing out a humourless laugh, he shakes his head. “They are thriving.”

Blaise makes a noise in the back of his throat that is full of scepticism. “I suspect that someone does know, and they kept it to themselves.”

He doesn’t say who, but it’s pretty obvious who he’s talking about. Who is the one person who hates the Unseelie and would have sensitive knowledge on his rival court?

Alaric grimaces, but there’s acceptance in his expression I wasn’t expecting. “My father?”

Saying this aloud costs him, his hurt rippling through me. After the way his father treated him, this shouldn’t come as a surprise, yet it’s still a betrayal of trust. Alaric should have known anything that would give his people an advantage, and not knowing about a city like this would be a huge blind spot for the Seelie if they ever descended into outright war.

“The king is adamant about wiping out the Unseelie,” I begin, squeezing his hand as I explain. “He would rather have me killed and risk losing you than chance that I might break the Unseelie curse and free them from their land.” Guilt wraps around my heart. I know what I’m saying is going to hurt him, but I continue nonetheless. “He wants everyone to fear the Unseelie. If your people knew the Unseelie could live like this, then I don’t think they would be so eager to destroy them.”

Most of the Seelie I met lived normal, simple lives. They weren’t warriors baying for blood. Fighting the Unseelie would only be a last resort for them, an act of defence when there was no other option. It’s the same for the Unseelie. There are exceptions, since there are bad creatures in every race, including humans, but ultimately, very few people actually want this war.

“Let’s save this conversation for when we’re not surrounded by listening ears,” Ciaran suggests, his voice cutting through my thoughts. He’s right, I shouldn’t have said so much while we’re out in the open. Before I can start to blame myself, Ciaran gestures for us to step down from our current platform and onto a large platform that wraps around the trunk of an enormous pine.

Skipping two steps ahead of us, Ciaran spins so he’s walking backward. He’s dangerously close to the edge of the platform, yet he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. A wide smile plays across his lips as he leads us around the platform, spreading his arms wide as we reach the edge.

“Welcome to the Living Palace, our pride and glory.”

None of us are actually looking at him, our gazes locked on the palace in the tree, the platforms and green canopies looking particularly magical tonight.

I’ve seen the palace before, yet it still takes my breath away. Blaise steps forward so he’s in line with us. This is the first time all of us have left Ciaran’s dwelling, and I wish it was for something as simple as taking a tour of the city and getting fresh air. Unfortunately, that is not the case.

Queen Sola has requested an audience with us, and now that Alaric is strong enough, it can no longer be put off. I have so many mixed feelings about this. He’s the son of her rival, so how is she going to react to him being here? We were given time for Alaric to heal before meeting her, so that’s something positive. If she was truly angry about him being here, then I have no doubt we would have already known about it. Apparently, the fact that she’s called us to the palace and not the ruins at the edge of their territory is a good sign too. Ciaran tells me this is because she doesn’t want an audience for this discussion.

The closer we get to the palace, the quieter my thoughts become as I take in the majestic grandeur of the huge oak. Everything about the structure built into and around the trunk has been kept as natural looking as possible. They could have chosen to carve decorations into the wood or add pillars and arches to enhance the aesthetic of the palace, but I’m glad they chose not to. Something about the rustic beauty only makes it seem that much more magical.

After what feels like a lifetime, we reach the final platform. The wooden boards are strong and don’t make a sound as we walk across them, making it easy to forget we are suspended high above the ground. Fae guard the entrance to the palace, positioned beneath the tent-like structures that create a canopy above them. They watch us closely, but none of them react in the way I expected, merely nodding to Ciaran as he strides forward. When we attended court in the ruins, there were hisses and jibes, whereas these fae are nothing but respectful.

I wish there was more time for me to admire the large doorway, but I have to admire it at a distance as we head through. From what I can see, the bark is much smoother than I would have expected, and glowing fae lights wrapped in twisted vines make it appear like something out of a children’s tale.

Ciaran guides us through several halls and deeper into the tree itself. The space is surprisingly airy and not at all claustrophobic. I can’t help but notice there are no doors to any of the rooms, just open archways. We pass through one of these and enter the large, cavernous hall. Unlike the darker wood of an oak on the outside of the palace, the walls have the appearance of white flecked maple bark. I assumed that the palace would be dark and oppressive, since we are literally inside a giant tree, but that isn’t the case.

Awestruck, I look around with wide eyes, taking in the windows I hadn’t noticed before, making it shine and appear regal. The small windows are carved into the wood, all joining together to create a circular design almost like a stained-glass window, only it’s missing the coloured panes.

Positioned before the window is a dais with wooden thrones facing towards us. Looking closer, I see the regal chairs actually seem to be attached to the dais, as though they have grown right out of them. The wood twists together, and while they don’t look very comfortable with the knots and rough bark, they are perfect in their imperfections.

The queen is waiting for us, but instead of sitting in the throne like I would have expected, she has her hand on the arm of the chair, and she’s looking up at the windows with a wistful expression. That disappears as soon as she senses our approach, and she turns to face us, a smile already fixed in place.

Looking at her outfit, I blink in confusion. At first glance, it appears like Queen Sola is dressed only in brambles. I take a closer look, and I realise she wears a pale peach coloured gown that perfectly matches her skin tone, the bodice and sleeves form fitting, with the skirt flowing to the ground in a cascade of glimmering taffeta. The brambles she wears are actually painted on, gathering around her bust and creating a mirage of a bodice made of sharp thorns, climbing up her shoulder towards her neck. From wrist to elbow she has the same mirage, crawling up her arms. The thorns seem to cluster around her waist, spilling down the skirt until they fade out, leaving only the glittering hem. She wears a half crown that perfectly matches the dress, simply made of five thorns pointing directly upward, the one in the centre being the largest with the others decreasing in size on either side.

The image she creates is powerful as she takes several steps in our direction. She’s so beautiful and commands the room with ease, despite the fact she’s not yet said a single word. Perhaps I was confused when I thought she looked wistfully out the windows, because the woman approaching us now doesn’t seem to be anything but dauntless and completely confident in herself.

No one else is in the hall save my companions and her, which is a surprise in itself. It’s a gesture of trust, especially given that Alaric is present. She either believes he’s not going to hurt her or that he doesn’t have the ability to do so.

Ciaran squeezes my hand and steps away, meeting the queen halfway and offering his arm in the process. The smile she gives him makes my jaw clench, especially as she places her hand on top of his arm. I’m sure she isn’t trying to make me jealous, yet the sense of familiarity rankles my nerves.

Thankfully they reach us quickly, and Ciaran untangles himself from her, placing a quick kiss on the back of her hand in respect before he returns to my side. She is still the leader of the Unseelie, so he has to show her respect. The kiss means nothing. At least, that’s what I tell myself. There’s nothing to worry about, and I need to focus on the reason we are here.

Shifting my attention to Queen Sola, I find her already looking at me eagerly. “Goddess,” she greets, her head lowered as she dips into a curtsy.

Oh boy. I had forgotten about our last interaction. She thinks I am a goddess here to save them.

“Please, Queen Sola, just call me Iris.” Stepping forward, I place my hand on her arm and guide her upright, feeling more awkward than I ever have before. “I am nothing special,” I say with a chuckle.

She raises her brow and purses her lips, clearly disagreeing with my statement. Humming, she thinks over a response. “Then you must call me Sola, especially as you are mated to my closest friend,” she replies, thankfully choosing not to challenge me on my comment.

Sola. I’m not quite sure how to take this, but I’m sure it’s meant as an honour. Does this mean she approves of my relationship with Ciaran? I suspect there was something between the two of them long ago, their reactions to each other more that of an old couple than just friends. Even if this was the case, she knows Ciaran and I are mates, and from what I can tell, she seems happy with that.

She tilts her head to the side as her eyes slide to Alaric, something in her expression tightening despite her smile remaining in place. “Prince Alaric of the Seelie.” She coos his name in a singsong voice, and my breath catches in the back of my throat. This is the moment of truth.

“I have had the pleasure of meeting your father before.” She makes it perfectly clear that meeting the king was anything but a pleasure. From my limited interactions with Alaric’s father, I can’t help but agree with her.

“Your Majesty.” Alaric takes a step forward and dips his head in a formal greeting, never once letting go of my hand. Standing upright, he meets her gaze and manages a tight smile. “That is an opinion not shared by many when it comes to my father.”

Her brows shoot up, and she crosses her arms over her middle. “This one has manners!” she scoffs and winks at me. Clucking her tongue, she looks back at Alaric. “You are nothing like your father.”

His smug amusement echoes down the bond, but he only allows his smile to grow a little wider. “This is a great compliment, and one I shall gladly take.”

Sola laughs, throwing her head back dramatically. “Oh, I like you.”

A low noise rumbles in the back of my throat, startling everyone, including myself. Did I just growl? Knowing she might have had some relationship with Ciaran is one thing, but her flirtatious behaviour with Alaric seems to have tested my patience.

I just growled at the ruler of the Unseelie Court. I should be dead, but thankfully she doesn’t seem offended by it. In fact, she seems to understand, giving me an apologetic grimace.

Alaric’s grip tightens, and Ciaran’s hand lands on my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. There’s no judgement in their actions, and all I feel is their comforting presence. Their possessive fae instincts must be passing on to me via the bonds, and it’s making me act in a way I never would have before.

Blaise seems unbothered by all of this, watching with crossed arms and a heavy frown. Sola observes us silently, paying particular attention to how my mates react to my show of dominance. She seems to be waiting for something—an apology perhaps? Well, she will be waiting a long time if that’s the case. I know I should probably apologise, but I can’t bring myself to, a stubbornness born from jealousy deep inside me.

Clearing her throat, she clucks her tongue as she stares at Alaric once more, frowning as though he’s a puzzle for her to figure out. “So the heir of the Seelie Court arrives on my doorstep, on the brink of death and needing immediate help. Being the benevolent leader I am, I commanded the healers to fix you.” Her words lilt on her last comment, giving the impression that she is joking, yet the seriousness of the topic takes away from any humour that might be found here. “You have been given everything you needed to recover and free access to the city. I have been patient, and I think I deserve to know why you are here and what happened to bring you to my realm in such a state.”

My stomach clenches with apprehension. This is the moment of truth. What Alaric chooses to tell her could very well be what decides our fate and path going forward. I don’t know what direction we are supposed to go in now, but if I’m to bring peace to both courts, then we should probably try not to alienate ourselves from another one. I understand the dilemma he’s facing with having to make this choice. Queen Sola is his father’s enemy, and by telling her everything that happened within the Seelie Court, he would be effectively betraying his people. If he chooses to lie or not tell her anything, then it could turn her generosity into animosity. We can’t go back to the Seelie, nor would the humans welcome us, meaning the Unseelie are the only ones who can currently help us.

My gut churns and my mind spins with the possibilities of all outcomes, but I’m not going to say any of this to Alaric or try to influence him in any way. This is his decision to make.

Alaric holds his head high and rolls his shoulders back. “My father killed Iris, my mate,” he begins, determination etched in his expression. “I knew she wasn’t really dead, though, because I could feel it.” He presses his free hand over his heart, as though to ease the memory of the pain he felt during that time.

Ciaran and Sola share a look, and I don’t miss the understanding that gleams in her eyes at the explanation. Ciaran probably told her something similar during my time in the death realm with Nyx. His connection with me hadn’t been as strong, as we had yet to complete our bond at the time, so he managed to avoid madness.

“My father thought I was going mad from my mate’s death, so he locked me away ‘for my own safety,’” Alaric continues, using air quotes to show exactly what he thought of the excuse given to him. “I escaped, and when he tracked me down, he made sure there was no way I could escape again.”

There’s a meaningful pause, and Sola’s eyes drop to his scarred wrists. She curses under her breath in realisation. “He chained you with iron.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Blaise bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, his face tight with barely restrained anger at the king.

“The distance between Iris and me, mixed with the iron, was killing me,” Alaric continues. “Blaise, my closest friend, came looking for help. He found Iris and brought her to me.”

He looks at me, our connection humming with warmth and love. The world falls away momentarily as I get lost in his eyes, his pupils widening as we sink into the depths of our bond. I can feel his passion for me and his intense need to be with me. Something tickles at the back of my mind, trying to pull me back into reality. It’s tough, but I follow that thread out and realise someone is speaking. I shake my head and focus on the sound of Ciaran’s voice.

“That is when I stepped in and offered the service of our healers,” he explains, taking over the story and bringing us all to the same place.

Reaching for the bond with Ciaran, I mentally caress it so he can feel my gratitude for helping us. Alaric is mostly healed now, but with his instincts still so raw and close to the surface, they seem to be affecting me. I really hope this phase passes soon, as having to deal with second-hand feelings is a challenge, especially with everything else going on.

Queen Sola looks between the four of us, her expression deceptively neutral as she decides what’s going to happen next.

Sighing, she reaches up and scrubs a hand across her face, the powerful image of the Unseelie leader gone in a second. She looks exhausted, her shoulders bowed with the weight of her responsibilities. As she rubs her temples, I can’t help but feel for her.

She stands upright and meets our gazes once more. “I’ve always been plain speaking, so I won’t dress this up with flowery, diplomatic words,” she begins, a slight frown pulling at her expression. “If the circumstances were different and you weren’t Iris’s mate, then you wouldn’t have made it across the boundary of our territory. I’m not in the business of taking strays from the Seelie.”

There’s a harsh note in her voice, stern and to the point. This doesn’t seem to be particularly aimed at us though. She seems to like Alaric as a fae, just not where he comes from.

“However,” she continues, crossing her arms over her chest, “the gods have seen fit to bind you to Iris, so that means you’re important. Whatever is planned for her, she will need you.” Shadows flicker in the room as magic seems to swell around her. “If you show any signs of trying to harm my rule or my people, I shall let the monsters below play with you, and that would be a slow, painful death.”

A black inkiness colours the whites of her eyes until we’re staring into a dark void. I’ve always wondered what her powers were and how she manages to stay in control of such a strong court. While this still doesn’t tell me, I can still feel enough of the raw sense of death that comes off her in waves to know to be terrified of her.

I’m waiting for Alaric to react, not sure how the threat will cause him to respond, but his expression doesn’t change, and he simply nods. “Understood.”

“Right!” She claps her hands together and smiles widely, making me jump in the process. “Now that all that nasty business is over and I don’t have to kill you, we have a situation.” Spinning on her heel, she stalks towards her throne, all of her swagger and power firmly back in place as she takes her seat. “The Seelie king contacted me and is demanding we hand you over to them. He’s stating that his son was kidnapped by traitors and that they are now hiding on my land. If I choose not to hand you over, then he will announce that the Unseelie were part of the plot and to expect a war.”

The news gets worse the longer Sola speaks, my horror growing with each word. The blood drains from my face, and my knees feel weak. We’ve brought this to their door. They have helped and sheltered us, and this is how we repay them, by bringing war.

“Does he know you have been helping us? That you healed his son and saved his life?” Blaise asks, clearly blown away by the ultimatum laid out by his former king.

Alaric seems just as bewildered, although I feel his unspoken guilt over potentially bringing this to his saviours. “I can send a message to my father and tell him you have been helping me recover and not to attack.” He steps forward, and I see a prince who loves his people and would do anything to protect them. “The Seelie don’t want a war.”

Queen Sola nods sharply in acknowledgement before leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “They might not, but your father does, and he is the one who will decide.” She leans back and scans the room as though looking for inspiration. “Honestly, I think that whatever route we take, he’s going to use this as an excuse to attack us.”

A heavy sense of realisation settles over us. There’s going to be a war one way or another. There must be a way to stop it. I’m supposed to be the one who brings peace, so there has to be something I can do. Ultimately, it’s the everyday fae who will get hurt in all this, and if an all-out war starts, it won’t be long before the humans get dragged into this as well.

“What do we do?” I ask quietly, at a loss. I’ve not felt this hopeless for a long time, and it’s flooring me.

“If the king brings a fight to our borders, then we shall fight. Our darker natures make us formidable fighters, but all that most of us really want is our freedom.” Sola is firm and unapologetic in her answer, and I wouldn’t expect anything less. “You are free to stay here or go elsewhere. We won’t ask for a war, but we won’t back down from one either.”

We have a lot to think about. Stay or go? Either way, the king will fight to get Alaric back. I glance over at the prince, wondering how he feels about all of this. I hadn’t thought about the implications of bringing him here. No, that’s not true. I considered how the Unseelie might feel about the Seelie heir in their realm, but not how it might look to the Seelie. The king promised to get revenge, and that seems to apply to the Unseelie too. I think Sola is right. The king has been looking for a reason to attack for a long time, and we just gave him the perfect excuse.

Have I doomed an entire race in my efforts to save my mate?