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thirty-one

Dove

W as I going to leave?

Yes .

Did I leave?

No .

Rivern is barely able to take his eyes or his hands off of my body since our make out session by the lake. The only reprieve I receive is when I have to relieve myself. He at least has the decency to turn his back, but that is the only compromise he is willing to make during our journey.

Damnable fae prince with his alluring eyes and heart-wrenching dimples.

His presence continues to grow on me as we traverse the uneven terrain. Memories of our kisses in and by the lake linger within my thought field, my body a torrent of unbridled desire, begging for more.

The wisps, our constant companions, support us through the landscape, making for a smoother journey than Rivern experienced. I just hope the creatures are as helpful for my fellow human travellers as they are for us.

“So, that’s it, huh?” I gaze upon an all-embracing mountain ridge as wide and tall as the eye can see. Even the mountain range circling Haven doesn’t bleed into the sky like this behemoth does. All exposed rock, barely a touch of foliage.

“Yes, my Dove, this is your new home.” His arm squeezes gently around my waist, and I crumble a little more at this new fondness. The perfume he radiates is more pungent to my nose now that I’ve rubbed up against his glorious naked body. If anything, now, I also smell the hint of vanilla honey on him as well.

We have exchanged no more kisses since the strange, reflective lake. An unspoken rule. Just the thought of his lips touching mine is enough to set me ablaze. His wandering hands, as they rub my thighs and tickle my waist, are about all I can handle as we ride Mage. And each night, he holds me so close that my body forgets how to move, so content in his warm embrace.

My whole life, people have discarded me. My father, the high priestess, Castor. Knowing this male, my bonded, is willing to wait for me helps rebuild the trust I’ve long given up on feeling for another.

Mage walks us up a steep and narrow path, making my blood thump heavily in my chest.

Reaching a small landing, one side rock and the other a deathly drop, Rivern asks, “Do you see it?”

“See what?” My eyes wander around the rock he’s pointing at, but I see nothing.

“Look closer.” Mage shifts restlessly underneath us, and I follow Rivern’s finger.

“There,” I yelp out excitedly. A double loop—the same small symbol used in Haven to hide the tunnel entrances. It’s small, but when looking for it, it almost glows in the setting suns of the crisp air surrounding us.

Rivern dismounts, swooping his cape to the side and striding to the mark. He traces it with his finger, and the stone begins to give way before my eyes, dust and small rocks tumbling to the floor as it moves.

“How?” My eyes widen in surprise. The tunnels in Haven require you to push the stone inwards to release the doorways.

Rivern points his finger to the sky. “I’m fae. We are the Goddess’s children. We have our ways.” He lifts his brows, and I squint my eyes. A slight chuckle leaves his lips, and he continues, “The wisps hold an elemental magic whereas the Goddess gave us the ability to bring about slight magic through purpose, only for our highest good, of course. It will not work if we express ill will.” His gaze lingers on mine. Good to know.

“But I thought…”

“We lost the magic with our song?” He smirks like that’s such a prosperous notion.

“Well, yes.” I shrug.

“Oh, Princess Dove, you have much to learn about your new people.” He grabs hold of the reins and pulls Mage forward into the most dazzling cavern I have ever seen.

Realising our wisp friends are stealthy following behind us I instruct them to rest back within the trees before we continue on. I don’t need to draw any unnecessary eyes towards the human moving into fae territory.

Rivern doesn’t comment on the dismissal and continues on. “It’s called opal,” he explains, waving his free hand around at the curved walls.

“Opal,” I breathe in wonder. The smooth rock lining the cavernous walls shines all the colours of the rainbow. “It’s beautiful.” If there were a tunnel to the stars, this is exactly what it would look like. Impressive, dynamically coloured and utterly dazzling.

Rivern stops us within the long, curved channel and watches me. The opal bounces the light from large round orbs ahead. “What?” I question the contemplative fae.

He continues to stare with his piercing violet eyes. Golden brown hair flows behind him as the stone door closes slowly behind us, grunting as it goes, and Rivern’s voice surrounds me in the cave. “Well, you see, Dove, I don’t think I truly knew what the word ’beautiful’ meant until I met you.”

That’s it. I’m a goner. I didn’t think anyone could truly kill me with their words, but it turns out, Rivern can. My body, my brain, my godsdamned heart cannot process the notions he so carelessly throws my way.

I must look utterly shocked because, like a stream flowing over a boulder, Rivern takes it in his stride and gives me a lopsided smile and continues to walk on. Mage follows diligently behind.

This fae. We barely know each other. He cannot make such declarations after one kiss. One glorious, heart—no, soul-melting kiss.

Pouting behind him, my eyes stay peeled, sucking in each new colour and sound. Where the strange orbs flicker, there’s an archway with vines and flowers carved into the opal.

The closer we get to the archway, the louder the noises become down the tunnel, letting me know there are a lot of people on the other side of that entryway.

Besides the strangeness of the stone, the orbs catch my attention as they sit in small holes in the wall and emit a white light. We don’t have such strange orbs in Haven.

“The prince!” comes a childlike voice from the entryway ahead. “Prince Rivern, Prince Rivern!” The small, lilting voice flows closer until I see a tiny fae run into Rivern’s outstretched arms.

“Should have guessed only a true guard would be waiting at the entrance.” The little child whips their head back, curly blonde hair fluttering as guileless violet eyes land on me.

Whispering loudly to Rivern, the child says, “You found her!”

“Yes, scamp, I found my bonded.” He pushes Rivern to let him free, and he obliges. The small child walks over to Mage.

“You’re Rivern’s bonded,” the child with the violet eyes says. My stomach does a tumble at those eyes, thinking about the repercussions of what this bonded thing means for Rivern and myself.

“Uh, yes, the Goddess seems to have bonded us.” With a mind of its own, my hand reaches for my chest and presses down.

The small child stands tall, pressing his hand to his heart, and bows. “My name is Kit, my princess.”

“Oh. Umm, nice to meet you too, Kit, but I’m no princess.” The child gives a slight snicker, and Rivern comes to pat him on his back.

“Soon, she will be,” Rivern comments, and my body goes to mush again, completely falling apart—palms sweaty, belly flipping.

“I wish I had a princess half as beautiful as you,” Kit says, and I lose my breath, coughing on the next inhale.

“Go on, Kit. Your mother is probably looking for you. And remember, she’s my bonded, not yours, so keep your mitts off.” Tinkling laughter can be heard skidding around the archway as Rivern comes to rest a hand on my knee.

“That’s Kit, my nephew.” I nod, still trying to retrieve my breath.

“Explains the eyes,” I sputter out.

“What about my eyes?” Rivern remarks as he traces the double-circle symbol over my knee again and again.

“You know.” I wave a hand through the air.

“No, I do not know. Enlighten me, Dove.” Rivern grins.

I puff the hair out of my face and gesture towards his eyes. “You both have sparkling violet eyes.”

“You think my eyes sparkle?” His question is teasing, and I knit my arms together over my chest.

“If you want to know what I think, just feel the bond.” And I send fire burning through my chest.

Gripping my waist with his arms, he lifts me off Mage and whisks me into his arms.

“Hey, let me down,” I complain .

Snuggling into my hair, Rivern takes a big breath and nudges close to my ear. “I like it when you get all hot for me.”

“Argh.” I stretch and try to wiggle out of his hold, but it’s no use. I am no match for a muscular fae prince.

Rivern grasps me tight as he strides towards the opening, a barrage of noise greeting us before we make our way over the threshold.

It seems a little like someone—or a little fae child—let the critter out of the bag.

“Please let me down, Rivern,” I plead with him, not wanting these people to think I’m some human weakling.

Stepping through the doorway, he sets me on my feet.

As soon as my feet meet unyielding rock, I gape at the display before me.

The expanse in front of me is vast. We stand high on a walkway, overlooking a large, open area.

Standing up to an ornately covered railing decorated in more vines similar in style to the archway, I peer downwards. A large tree reminiscent of the one entombing the crystal Goddess in Haven sits wide and proud below, a centrepiece.

The soft trickle of water skipping through stone and opal carvings weaves through the ground and fae walk in and out of sight, some taking a moment to stop and look above at me .

Stepping back from the railing, I look up. Light spills from above through tiny holes dotting the curved apex of the mountaintop. From this vantage point, I notice the walkway spiralling up and around the curved inner walls of the mountain we are currently within .

“Come.” Rivern takes my hand, saying his goodbye to the two fae guards I’d barely noticed when faced with the impossibility of such a creation inside this majestic mountain.

I follow him down the winding walkway. The closer we get to the ground, the more faces I see observing us. Curiosity etched on unknown expressions. Features that remind me of Rivern with tall, lithe bodies, pointed ears, high cheekbones and large eyes.

The more I look, the more details I take comfort in. These are Rivern’s people. We will be safe here. A niggling feeling pulls at the back of my mind, but I squash it down. We don’t have any other option. I must make this work for the villagers who are probably still behind us, considering they lack a stallion who requires little rest and an obstinate fae male.

As we discover ourselves at the bottom of the curved passageway, I find it hard to put the sight into words. Beauty. Softness. Heaven. The water trickles underfoot through deep grooves, fed by a waterfall acting as a curtain of sorts behind which a walkway leads. The centrepiece is, of course, a tree coloured with red and pink flowers, giving off the most alluring flowery scent.

And inside the tree lies an opening, big enough for the form of a crystalised figure to be seen within.

I gasp audibly at the sight.

Rivern lays a hand on the small of my back, and the fae nearest to us part as the prince guides me towards a sight I thought I’d never see again.

“The Goddess Oona. Mother of the fae. Look familiar?” Rivern asks.

“Yes,” I choke out. My breaths shallow out, and suddenly, everything is too much. The strange people. The soft mutterings. The weirdly charming smells. The familiar sights. “I… I don’t feel—”

The last thing I hear is the soft murmuring of the fae around me as strong, warm hands cradle my fall.