Page 10 of Tempting the Fae Lord (The Gatekeeper’s Weakness)

Chapter Nine

Gale

“Stand up straight.” Marissa squares my shoulders with confident hands, then steps back and observes me. “Yes, like that. Chin up.” With a piece of string, she measures the length of my back from shoulder to shoulder.

We’re outside on one of the many balconies looking over the hillside. The lighting is good here, sunny and crisp. The breeze is cool on my cheeks.

I feel guilty about not telling Marissa what’s actually going on.

Even though it’s only an omission of information and not an outright lie, it still feels like a lie.

She thinks Ezra’s second trip through the gate in so many nights will be a routine meeting with the guardians on the other side. She doesn’t know the danger.

So I fight to appear calm, keep a neutral expression, and chat with her as though I’m not worried sick about him crossing tonight.

“New clothes will be so exciting.” She marks the string and wraps it around my waist. “I’m going to ask for blue. And maybe yellow. What about you?”

“I don’t know.” New clothes are the last thing on my mind. To be honest, I’d forgotten all about them until Marissa came to fetch me to collect these measurements.

“Green suits you.” She hums and looks me over from head to toe. “Black too, I think. He dotes on you. Seeing you in his favorite color will please him.”

I hadn’t thought of that. My cheeks heat. “Good idea.” Though I haven’t exactly admitted my crush to Marissa—not in so many words—she knows. And I know that she knows. And she knows I know that she knows. And so on.

“That’s me, full of good ideas.” She boops me on the nose.

I scrunch my face. “Hey.”

“All right, put your arms down and stand like this.” She demonstrates, feet about shoulder width apart.

I copy her, and she kneels to measure my legs.

“He likes you too, you know.”

Sweet of her to say, but it doesn’t mean anything. “He likes all of us. In his own way.”

“More than that. He stares when you’re not looking.”

My stomach jumps. “He does?”

“Mm-hmm. And he asks Eulayla about you when you’re not around. Always has.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and he has his own nickname for you. Mooncalf.”

I chuckle. “It’s an insult. It means sillyhead.”

“He uses it as a term of endearment, and it also means daydreamer. It’s a quality he admires in you, not an insult at all.” She stands and narrows her gaze. “But you knew that.”

Maybe. I certainly never felt insulted by it, though to hear Marissa say so feels nice all the same.

She grins. “You’re blushing.”

“Can’t help it. Don’t laugh at me.”

“Never. You know, the Gatekeeper definitely likes you more than that arrogant boy from town does.”

I fidget. “Erm, you knew about him?”

“Knew?” She arches her brows. “So it’s over?”

“It was never serious.”

“Of course not. You’re too good for him.”

“Wait, how did you know?” Because now I’m worried everyone knows. And by everyone, I mean Ezra. I cringe.

“Don’t worry. No one else knows.”

My relief is palpable. “Oh, thank the stars.”

She smiles cheekily. “And you’re not the only one who sneaks into town for a little companionship.”

“Marissa!”

“What? I’m old enough.”

“Barely.” Smoldering ashes, she’s full of shocking news today. “Who is it?”

“If I tell you, will you keep my secret?”

“So long as he’s not an ass. Wait, he’s a he, right?”

She laughs. “Yes, he happens to be a he. And no, he’s not an ass, though he has a nice one.”

“Tell me everything!”

We continue to chatter as she finishes taking my measurements. It’s nice, this happy bit of normalcy. Marissa cheers me up so thoroughly I almost forget Ezra will be leaving again tonight. Leaving and heading into danger all alone.

When dusk rolls around, I’m dressed in my winter clothes and waiting down the hall from Ezra’s wing. I want to see him off, and secretly, an idea has occurred to me that I have to try. With any luck, he won’t notice that part.

The creak of his door sets butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I count his quiet, even footfalls as he approaches.

“Good evening, Gale,” he rumbles.

“How’s your knee?” There’s no limp, but is it still sore?

“All better.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go alone,” I blurt out. I can’t help myself.

“You’ve nothing to fear.” He urges me onward with a gentle touch to my lower back.

I shiver. I won’t argue. He’ll do what he likes regardless of what I say, and arguing won’t help either of us, so I bite my tongue.

He glances at my cloak, my winter boots. “Will you be escorting me to the gate, then?”

“If you’ll allow it.”

“So long as there’s no theatrics when I must cross.”

“Absolutely none. Promise.”

He lifts his brows but leads us toward the front exit. “I usually fly, you know.”

“Yes. I’ve watched many times.”

He chuckles. “I’m familiar with all your favorite perches.”

“The castle has many to choose from. I watch and imagine what it must feel like. To soar into the air as you do. You make it look effortless.” For him, it probably is. “I’m hopeful you won’t mind walking tonight, since I can’t join you in the air.”

He grins, and my heart races. He hardly ever grins, and this one is only for me. Just a hint of a smile, really, no pointy teeth to ogle, but on him, it’s transformative. “Who says you can’t join me?”

My mouth hangs open. “Erm, no wings, for one.”

“Then I shall carry you. You wish to know what it’s like, so I’ll give you a taste. Perhaps when I return, I’ll show you more.”

Breath rushes into my lungs. I go from worried to excited in the span of a second. It never occurred to me that flying would be a thing we could share. But—“Are you sure you can carry me?”

“I’ve done it before.”

“When I was a baby.”

“Yes, and as a young child. Several times in fact. You’re a magnet for trouble.”

“I don’t remember flying.”

“I covered your face.”

“I’m a lot bigger now.”

His gaze passes over me, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I’m aware.”

“You can still carry me?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I thought I couldn’t.”

We take the stairs to the ground floor. I nearly trip over my feet in my enthusiasm to get outside. His low laughter sets something inside me alight.

“I take your eager departure as consent?”

“Yes.”

He sweeps me into his arms, one beneath my knees and the other beneath my shoulders. Part of me thinks I should be a little embarrassed at the position, but the rest of me settles in as if I’m right where I belong.

“I’ve got you,” he says. We’re so close his breath ghosts over my cheek. “Ready?”

I’m ready to fly, but I’ll never be ready for him to put me back down. “Ready.”

His wings snap into view from wherever he glamours them from and beat a mighty thrum I feel in my bones. One moment we’re on the ground, and the next we’re rising into the air.

I tighten my grip around his neck, but I’m not afraid.

The wind whips my cheeks with her icy tendrils. I’m more awake than I’ve ever been. It’s exhilarating. My limbs feel light, weightless, and laughter bubbles up to the surface.

The view is incredible. The fortress shrinks into the landscape with every swoosh of his wings. I see the village from here, sprawled out along the valley next to the curving creek. Under the starlight, the little cottages and farms look magical.

Ice and snow glitter silver and blue, sparkling all the more the higher up we fly. Our home is beautiful. Majestic. My heart warms as it races, beating even faster than Ezra’s wings.

We don’t talk during the short journey. I’m not sure I could hear him over the rushing wind anyway. As we approach the gate, he holds me even tighter. I bask in the closeness until the very moment his feet hit the ground, and he releases me to stand on my own.

He steadies me as I regain my balance. “As you imagined?”

“Better.” Way, way, way better. I must look silly smiling from ear to ear, pink-cheeked and giddy, clinging to his arm as the world spins around us. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He sounds so genuine it melts my heart. “And now I must be on my way.”

The ups and downs of tonight are going to kill me. Reluctantly, I let go of his arm. “So soon?”

“I’m afraid so.”

I glance from him to the gate. “I still want you to take me through some day. Not when it’s dangerous. I have no desire to see an undead horde in person. But someday. To find my family.”

He casts a resigned expression my way, perhaps a bit sad, and doesn’t answer. I don’t push. This isn’t the time.

He draws the dagger from his sheath and holds it to his palm. This close, I see the chaotic lattice of scars left behind from countless trips through the gate. Each one represents two souls, one fae and one human.

As he slices a fresh cut, I wince. He doesn’t.

The scent makes my mouth water. I bite the inside of my cheek and ignore the desire to drink from him.

Again, his blood reddens the snow, scarlet on pure white.

I grab his wrist so he won’t leave yet.

He allows it.

“Promise you’ll be careful.”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll be home soon.”

“As soon as I can, Mooncalf. Fear not. And take care of the others while I’m away.”

“Yes, sir.” I hate to do it, but I let him go.

He clenches the iron bar in the same spot as last time. I tilt my head and strain to hear each murmured word.

Bloath de mon kuhn

Opniz thik winsomeka

I commit the phrase to memory, though I don’t have a clue what it means. He casts me what is probably supposed to be a reassuring glance—but really it only makes me sad—and pushes the gate open wide enough to slip through.

Again, multiple sconces cast an eerie glow on the wall, and then nothing as he leaves and the gate closes by itself.

An empty feeling washes over me as I adjust to being alone. I say a silent plea to whatever force that might be listening.

Please let him be okay. Let him return to me unharmed.

The urge to remain here and wallow in melancholy rises like the tide.

But I have a mission, and now that he’s gone, I must set to it.

From within my cloak, I pull a glass phial and a scrap of cloth. I use the cloth to wipe all the blood from the iron, then tuck it safely inside the phial.

Next, I drop to my hands and knees and scrape all the red snow into it as well. I pop a cork into the top and store it safely back into the inner pocket of my cloak.

My idea probably won’t work.

But… What if it does?