Page 19 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)

Killian

Gold-tipped wings.

A penchant for speaking her mind.

A cleverness I’d still not seen the full depths of.

A dark red dress that I’d married her in.

A talent for spinning straw into gold—this woman had cut through more than I’d let her know.

And following her now through the citrine library, I felt that burst of hope I hadn’t allowed in a decade.

The morning light brightened her way and she stepped out of the crystal tunnel, clutching her books to her chest. She shielded the sun from her eyes and gasped at the sight.

The Citrine Cliffs lived up to their name. We stood on a sharp precipice overlooking a vast escarpment, long and narrow in the valley below. The natural amber crystals jutted from the steep plateaus and reflected in the morning sun, glinting light that pirouetted through the cliffside.

“Killian…” she started, her eyes bright, her mouth agape, “it’s incredible!” She laughed and placed her hand on my forearm, just as she’d done that morning after our wedding. “Thank you.”

Her eyes filled with the golden light of a happiness I’d not felt in years.

“Do you see that grove of trees there?” I pointed across the expanse of land below us to a small crop of trees growing across the canyon.

She nodded and I continued. “Can you meet me there? There’s something else I need to show you.”

Her face fell, but she recovered quickly and nodded again. I took my place at the gnarled tree growing along the side of our cliff and shifted through the wood, sifting through many trees until I walked through the one I needed at the cliffside.

I could see her form in contrast to the golden crystals behind her, far across the valley. In truth, I could have shifted through the trees with her wrapped in my arms, but decided against it for two reasons.

One, I wanted to see her golden raven form.

Two, I didn’t want to touch her more than necessary.

I walked to the cliff’s pointed edge and waved both of my arms up over my head.

She hesitated a few moments more before shifting into a speck of gold in the morning light. Her flight was slow across the sky and more than once she dipped suddenly, her wings wavering and tilted.

I found myself at the very edge, leaning toward her as she dipped again.

She wasn’t going to make it . My heart thundered in my chest and my scream erupted across the valley as she began to fall, twisting in a haze of golden feathers to the forest floor below.

I bolted to the nearest tree, calculating each shift until I shot out of the tree line underneath her.

“Morella!” I screamed, lining myself up to catch her.

Her golden raven body fell into my arms and I cradled her to my chest. Her head hung limp and her chest heaved. Alive. She was alive and breathing.

I sifted through the trees, shuffling through them one by one in a matter of seconds before stepping out of our bedroom door in the castle. Still cradling her in my arms, I opened the door and called down the hall. “Get Captain Fedir!”

Rushing to my bed, I laid her raven form gently on my pillow. Her shift was languid as she came back to her Ravenfae form, her eyes closed and still catching her breath, books in hand. “Morella?” I urged, brushing the sweat soaked hair from her brow. “Can you hear me?”

Nodding slightly, she blinked, pulling herself up to sitting. “Water?”

Fedir approached the bed, thrusting a cup into my hands and I held it to her lips.

She swatted my hand lazily, took the cup, and drank. “I almost made it,” she mumbled in a short, humorless laugh.

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t make it across?” I snapped. “I would have taken you had I known?—”

“That I’m too weak of a flier to span such a distance?” she finished. “I might have been able to make it under different circumstances.”

She took another long gulp, setting the cup down in her lap.

“What circumstances?” I urged furiously.

Her brows furrowed. “Why are you so angry?”

“You could have died!”

Eyes widening, she seemed to come to a realization. “Oh.” Lifting her gaze to Fedir, she darted her eyes between us. “No. No, I wouldn’t have died. I’ve fallen many times mid-flight and have had plenty of broken bones to prove it. If I shift at the last moment, I can slow the…the fall.”

“You didn’t shift,” I gritted between my teeth. My head snapped back to my captain, jerking in the direction of my study.

“I’m on it,” he muttered, hurrying across the room and leaving through the yellow door.

“On what?” she insisted. “What’s the problem? I told you I would have made it under different circumstances.” She laid her hand on my arm. I felt the cold chill of her tremble through my shirt.

“What circumstances?” I asked again, taking her hand and burying it under the warm blankets.

She scoffed. “Different ones.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I-I just haven’t eaten well since I got here, that’s all.”

I bolted from the bed, flipping open her trunk.

Her gowns and shoes had been placed in her wardrobe along with most of the jars she’d brought, but a few pieces of glass, blue paste, and her nuts littered the bottom.

I picked one up and studied its structure between my thumb and forefinger.

“You said you need these to feel normal. Why?”

She shrugged, sliding her legs slowly over the side of the bed and slipping off her shoes. “It’s the only thing that seems to help how strong I feel.”

Fedir returned with two books in hand. Rising from the trunk, I took one, nodding at the title.

“There’s one chapter about Ravenfae history in here and this one,”—he held the thin book in front of my face—“has some information on all winged faekind. Though very little. I read it when you asked me to look into… ah—” His eyes darted to Morella, who rose on jittery legs.

“When you had me looking into types of faekind before.”

Morella came closer, leaning in to read the title of the book I held. “A Partial History of the Fae of Revelry?” She placed her hand on my forearm again. “This isn’t a Ravenfae thing. It’s a Morella thing.”

“What do you mean?” I snapped the book shut, handing it to Fedir, instructing, “On my desk. Keep looking.”

He nodded and left, taking both books with him.

“I mean that I’ve never met another Ravenfae who was as weak as I am.”

My gaze darted to her hand on my arm. “You think you’re weak?”

She took her hand away and I felt the absence of it. “I know I am. I could never fly as long as the others. I could never expand my wings fully.”

She demonstrated, stepping back and spanning her wings across her back. They lifted wobbly, one lower than the other as her face bunched in the effort. “See? They just didn’t grow right or something.”

“Has it always been this way?” I asked in a steady tone.

“Yes. Korven tried to strengthen them through exercises, but… I just never excelled at flying. It’s why he’s the Cursebringer of Revelry and I am not.

Even though the title should have landed with me after my mother.

But Korven ensured I wouldn’t have to take it.

He knew I’d never be able to…to deliver curses all across the land.

” She shrugged in feigned acceptance. “And that’s part of how I ended up here.

In this marriage.” Her eyes, flecked in gold, landed on mine. “With you.”

I suppressed a shiver and the urge to go to her. Instead, I held out the thistle nut in my palm. “When did you discover these helped you?”

“When I was around ten.”

“You don’t know why they help?”

“I assume it’s because of what’s in them.”

“And what is that?”

“I have no idea.”

“You haven’t researched it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “They’ve always been available to me and helped, so I haven’t put much thought into them.”

I tossed the blue stained nut back into her trunk. “You’re not spinning today.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re going to get into your bed and rest.”

“I’ll do just that later tonight. After you kiss me.”

I swept forward so fast, she couldn't react in time.

Sliding my hand behind the small of her back, I pulled her close, holding the back of her neck.

I pressed my lips to hers, taking my height over her as leverage and deepening my kiss, engulfing her completely.

A short “oomph” came from under my mouth somewhere, before she squeezed my arms, pulling me closer.

Over too soon, I pulled away, guiding her to her bed as she tried to regain her breath. She plopped onto the sheets and I pulled a blanket over her legs. “Get some rest. Goodnight, Moh Dhóches.”

Stunned, she stared as I backed away. “But it’s not even midday!” she called as I reached the study door. I didn’t respond, my mind already spiraling with finding answers. The study door shut firmly behind me.