Page 60

T he little garden was a simple wonder in a small alley, one that was carefully tended, with no doubt in my mind, by the baker himself.

Colorful small birds, vibrant butterflies, and shimmering pixies flitted about the glowing floral vines that created a shady canopy over the stone tables and chairs beneath.

Little petals fell enchantingly around us as Emon led me to the quaint spot.

Stepping in front of me, he cupped my face, peering deep into my eyes. “Has it fully passed? Is there anything you need?”

I tipped my face into him and nodded. “Yes. It has passed.” I pulled his hands gently away from my face and walked past him, allowing my shadows to drape around me as I did. Surprisingly, their comfort this time was not quite the same as being cocooned in Emon’s embrace.

There was a long pause then he spoke, his voice a soft timber at my back.

“For me. They come at night. Sometimes I wake from these night terrors so fucking vivid it’s like I’m still there and I cannot escape.

I have a hard time knowing what's real and what isn’t and when I finally pull out of it, it takes me hours to recover…

to find some semblance of peace in it all.

” His voice was barely above a whisper. “There are some things that not even an ancient master healer can cure.”

I was quiet, remembering the image of Emon thrashing in his sleep in the Balsam plains. The pain etched on his face while trapped in the nightmare. It was the first time where I realized Emon’s soul was just as scarred as mine.

“Mine started after Morta….” I confessed. “Sometimes it’s just a look of fear, a scream, a smell, or simply just too many fae surrounding me like yesterday in the breakfast room.”

“And today, just now?”

“The baker Drey…” I waved my hand towards the building.

“He fears me. I can see the terror in his eyes when he looks at me. It’s not his fault, he is a gentle soul, but when they trigger, I am so terrified that I will recreate Morta in those moments that I spin out of control even more.

That’s why isolation was the easiest way.

At least then…I wasn’t around anyone I could hurt ever again. ”

“The cabin. That’s why you spent so much time there.” His soft words were like a caress on the back of my neck.

I pulled the shadows closer around me despite the heat. “Did you know that the cabin was created by the goddess herself, a halfway house for fae who needed solace to heal?”

“Did you? Did you heal, little umbra?”

I shook my head and turned to face him with honesty. “I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Alright lovebirds.” Penina called out, stomping through the doorway. “You two can finish your serious as shit conversation later. I’m starving!”

Emon chuckled. “You’re always starving and always eating. I have no idea how you stay so small.”

“Calisthenics.” She winked at me and chucked a white pastry bag at my face.

I caught it with a snicker, choosing the shady side of the stone table across from her. “Cherry with cream cheese?” I peeked in the bag.

Penina snickered. “Of course. I stayed away from the chocolate spiced croissants. Didn’t want you to have a different type of meltdown.” She teased .

Emon’s brow raised when he sat next to Penina, forcing her to shift over so that he could sit directly in front of me. His knee brushed against mine underneath the table.

Four days ago I wanted to kill this shifter for touching me. Now I was starting to worry I couldn’t live in a world without him.

Goddess, who was I now?

What was I now?

The hero or the monster, the vigilante or the avenger?

Broken or more powerful than ever?

The lines blurred so much that it was a wonder I could even distinguish them before now.

“Am I supposed to take the hint that spiced chocolate is your new favorite flavor?” Emon queried seriously, looking at the two of us with a narrowed gaze.

Penina choked on her pastry.

Mortified, I looked at the gagging shifter. “Where is Xi?”

Penina’s brown eyes glittered and she pulled out a hot tea from her bag, taking a long sip.

“Oh right!” She cleared her throat and then took another bite, before talking through another mouthful of butter and sugar and dough.

“Tyr sent a messenger. Something about a scouting mission she was needed for.”

I frowned. “Xi has to be the worst scout in Faerie…he should know that.”

She shrugged. “That's exactly what we both said.” Still talking through the mouthful of pastry, she added. “Who knows with Tyr…he's notorious for saying one thing and then meaning something completely different—all part of the training, he says.”

I snorted and unrolled my own pastry. Sticky, buttery, flakey dough laid before me and I practically drooled on it before taking a bite. Moaning my pleasure at the symphony of godly flavors.

Then I watched in disbelief as a bronze hand reached into my space and ripped off a piece of my hand pie without so much as a may I. Following that hand, I dragged my gaze upwards, watching the smirking shifter king slowly place my pastry in his mouth and chew.

Licking his lips, he drew them into a salacious challenging smile that made my shadows curl up around me possessively.

Penina whispered a harsh curse next to us.

“Care to try that again?” My shadows darkened and curled around my arms, following the swirls of my tattooed ink.

Emon raised his brow with a predatory gleam. “ If I do?”

I gripped my dagger from my boot and threw it point down into the stone surface of the table—right in front of my pastry and said sweetly. “I didn’t promise Jarquinn not to kill you today.”

He chuckled darkly and then lunged. His shifter speed was a blur but I also had speed of my own.

Another dagger appeared in my hand from the void and I threw it at his advance.

Emon’s claws slashed outward and the blade ricocheted off them, spinning straight for the youthful shifter munching happily away on her own treat.

Right before it struck, Penina leaned backwards, the blade passing by her nose as she took another bite, humming delightedly to herself before returning to her seated position.

At the same time, my shadows launched forward, pinning the king of shifter’s arm to the table while my hand wrapped around the buried dagger between us.

The blade spun in my palm until its edge pressed against Emon’s exposed throat, my fingers curling around the hilt.

Our heavy breaths mingled together while I leaned into his space, and Emon smiled, brushing his nose against mine with a rumbling purr.

“You should look up, little umbra.” He teased and I could see his other hand in my periphery waving.

My eyes slid to his waving hand where my damned pastry was skewered on his claws like a dessert barbecue.

“Your move.” He whispered, kissing my turned cheek affectionately.

Sliding my gaze back to him, I played his game, returning his affection with a soft kiss on his smiling mouth. “I could just slit your throat and take it.” I whispered breathily, watching his eyes dilate with desire.

Emon purred. Somehow leaning closer without actually touching me. “Such a savage, bloodthirsty animal you are, you sure you're not a shifter too?”

The sound of baking paper sliding between us drew my attention. Glancing down, I noted another fresh pastry bag had been placed in front of me along with my wayward dagger.

I snatched the bag, pulling the dagger from the shifter king’s throat, and sitting back down with a quizzical look.

Penina winked watching me toss the daggers back into the void.

“His majesty is known for pinching pastries, General Dark. I had a feeling you wouldn’t appreciate that, knowing your affinity for them.

I was prepared.” She shrugged and nudged Emon with her elbow.

“You should really ask him sometime why his nose remains crooked.”

Emon grinned at me and lowered my skewered pastry down to his delectable mouth, eating it straight from his claws, and challenging me with that fierce stare.

I scowled, digging into the bag. “I was wondering why you ordered five of them.” I murmured but eyed Penina’s anticipatory character suspiciously.

Emon drew my attention by slapping his toned stomach happily, then chuckled.

“Do you mind releasing your shadows now?” The three of us glanced down.

The shadows were currently snuggling Emon’s arm like a damned cat.

“They are not so much holding me hostage now as they are cuddling me.” He shook his head at them ruefully and reached over to pet them.

“Stop domesticating them.” I snapped out and commanded the shadows to release the king. Slowly…almost reluctantly they released him.

Emon chuckled and stretched out his newly freed arm. “Now that we are all fed—”

I interrupted him with a snort and bit with emphasis into my hand pie.

He stared at my mouth as I chewed, then blinked, clearing his throat. “Almost fed. We are leaving for the outposts today, as soon as we finish up here.”

“It wasn’t Tyr that sent Xi on a mission was it?” Penina’s normally cheerful demeanor darkened. I had seen it like this once before…during breakfast yesterday when she learned news that the queen had survived.

Emon spread his feet outward, brushing his legs against mine affectionately. I allowed it. The shifter was quickly becoming my constant grounding force and I craved the security that brought me.

“Technically he did, on my orders though.”

“And when you say we?” She questioned darkly.

“Tyr, Xi and Riley, You, Remnant, and I.”

“No.” The word left my mouth instantly, both shifters turned to me. “I’m not going anywhere where Riella is not. I promised that faeling I would stay with her. I won’t break that on your whims. ”

“It is in her best interest for us to leave.” Emon said slowly, watching my reaction attentively. “The blood wraith attack yesterday proved that.”

I shifted in my seat and narrowed my eyes. “You think my presence led them here. Why?”

He tracked my movement like startled prey. “They traveled into the Wildwoods, The Under, and now here. As I said before, I don’t believe in coincidences and I know you do not either.”

“No, I do not.” I hissed through gritted teeth. The shadows curled around my arms, sensing my unease.

Emon watched them sadly as if he was disappointed he could not be the one to comfort me.

“I assure you, little umbra. Riella will be safe here. I have ordered Jarquinn to triple the wards on the healer quarters and no one is allowed in but you, me, and the master healer himself. Besides…there is someone you demanded to see that resides in the outposts. And I am a fae of my word.” His leg brushed against me again, his eyes imploring me to understand.

I arched a brow at him. “Bane.”

Penina inhaled sharply and looked away.

“Yes.” Emon growled.

I shook my head. “If you tripled the wards then you felt that she was not safe here, all the more reason for me to stay. Send for Bane to come here.”

Emon growled and leaned forward. “I tripled the wards as a precaution because we are leaving, not because Riella is not safe here.” He cleared his throat when his voice became unsteady and he raked his hands through his hair.

“Trust me when I say this, there is absolutely nothing in this world, nothing in this goddess forsaken universe even, that I wouldn’t do to ensure her safety. ”

I scrutinized the shifter in front of me. Emon knew something that I did not, it was lying there beneath the surface and clearly he was shaken by it.

Penina turned back, the darkness still prowling in her eyes. “Your majesty, allow me to scout ahead to ensure your safety?”

Emon tilted his head at her and then slowly nodded. “Of course. General Tyr and the others should be already on their way. You will likely catch up to them. Stay with them please and bring your provisions.”

I scowled with irritation.

Penina nodded and stood gracefully, smoothing down her lavender outfit.

“I will see you there.” She said tightly and then spun, walking away with quick silent feet.

Right before she disappeared around the corner she threw a warning look at her king.

“By the way, your majesty. There is another pastry under your seat. So stop salivating over General Dark’s! ”

Emon and I both turned towards each other and I quickly reached down, stuffing the remainder of my pastry into my mouth unceremoniously.

“It's mine now, shifter.” I cooed, chomping on the sticky cherry dough zealously.

Emon’s deep dark chuckle caused me to pause mid chew.

Smiling, he reached across the table to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear before he poked at my overstuffed cheeks. “It wasn’t the pastry I was salivating over my little umbra.”