Page 61 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)

Body and Soul

DEVI

I wipe the last of my tears and smile. Deep down, my Storm prince is a romantic.

“Aren’t we already engaged? I thought we were,” I tease.

“I mean here. Now.”

My brows furrow, and I search the heavenly scenery. The moonlight plays with the shifting branches and leaves, streaking through the canopy with every gust of wind. It’s true that it’d make for a wonderful setting for a wedding, but alas… “We have no officiant, no kindreds, no ceremonial knife?—”

“We’re in Eros’ sacred forest. We don’t need any of that. A couple who drinks from Eros’ Fountain is immediately wed under her eyes. No witness needed.”

I gape at him. This isn’t the kind of marriage we’re used to in Spring, or anywhere else on the Fae continent. No, it’s rare because it demands something almost as impossible to find as it is beautiful. Something Spring Fae whisper about when they’re intoxicated or yearning.

A legend every other realm dismisses as a foolish myth.

“But the Fountain doesn’t allow just anyone to marry, only?—”

“Fated mates.” He pecks my lips. “I love you, witch. And I’m not ashamed to say it. I never loved anyone else as I love you. You were made for me, and I was made for you.”

My heart somersaults, but I shake my head. “The crowns will punish you. If we come back from our mission already married, they’ll brand you a traitor.”

He nuzzles the back of my ear, his hot breath making all the hairs on my neck stand at attention.

“If you’re a traitor, then so am I. If you’re exiled again, I will go with you.

Besides, even if they gave permission, do you really want to get married in front of the seven crowns?

With my mother there, ready to stab you while no one’s looking?

With your father watching us as we consummate our love? ”

I grimace at the thought.

“No, but we need the excuse of a wedding—or at least the threat of one—to lure Ethan in,” I stammer, holding on by a thread, ready to abandon the whole plan.

“No one has to know. When the time comes, we can stage a wedding. But for now, I want it to be just us.”

I rest my forehead on his. If it were up to me, I could drown in those purple depths of his, and be perfectly content. “I love the sound of that.”

“Then the only question is: do you love me? Because this fountain will know the difference between a fake engagement and true love.”

I tiptoe over to touch the bark of the tree, sliding my palm across the rough edges, down and around to the place where the sacred spring water rises from the ground.

I run my fingers through the sparkling water, marvelling at its freshness.

“According to my grandfather Oberon, Eros’ own daughter, Hedone, drank from the water with someone she mistakenly thought was her mate.

Drinking the water with the wrong person not only caused the union to fail but also prevented her from finding her one true mate.

And so, the young goddess spent her life chasing pleasures instead. ”

“Are you worried I might not be the one?” Seth croaks.

“Not at all. In fact, I always suspected that part of the legend was tacked on so that young lovers wouldn’t defy their parents and elope here…

” I meet his gaze head-on. “I love you, Seth. With all that’s left of my heart—but it’s not much.

It might not be enough for the Fountain to work its magic. ”

He bridges the gap between us. “Gods know it’s enough for me.”

He claims my mouth again, but this time, the kiss is anything but chaste. It devours, wrenching my soul out to meet his.

We kiss hard under the canopy of the Hawthorn. Suddenly, the wind stirs, rustling the leaves and making the branches sway. A flurry of birds bursts from the branches above, tweeting in warning. The earth vibrates faintly beneath our feet, and we reluctantly pull apart.

Seth’s eyes flash with worry. “Mark my words,” he growls, “I’ll kill anyone who dares?—”

“Shush. Look.”

A ball of light rises from Percy’s grave. A soul. But not like the souls of the Fae. There’s no reaper waiting for him, no one tasked with reaping the Faeling’s light and gathering them to be later released to the sky, because their souls are merely borrowed pieces.

The little sphere of golden light rises from the earth and hovers at eye level.

Percy’s voice echoes in my mind.

“We’ve made it home, diamantay.”

I choke on a sob at the sweet caress of his voice, one I never thought I’d hear again. “I miss you, Perce.”

Two delicate wings appear from the ball, the golden glow dwindling to reveal Percy’s entire shape, right up to the curve of his melon hat. He’s smiling.

“Be happy. Marry your guy. Save the world. I’ll be with you. Always.”

He flies forward, zooming directly into my chest. My ribcage rises on a deep breath, as though Percy is breathing for me. The light spreads, igniting my whole body, flesh and bones. I press a hand over my heart, to the scarred, mangled flesh. It’s now as smooth as it was… before.

“Your scars are gone…” Seth trails off, caressing my arms up and down.

We rise to our feet, the golden glow beating in sync with my heart.

A thousand other spheres of light rise from the earth around us, gleaming like fireflies in the night. I stand, ready to flee if needed, but feel nothing but comfort radiating from the orbs. No threat. Just peace.

They wiggle up and down in the air before crashing into me, all at once.

What the ? —

I feel different as I bring a shaky hand to my head.

An intricate gold crown sits there, my thick mane braided around it. The golden glow coats my skin, sparking in and out of view a few more times before it’s gone. The branches of the Hawthorn blow in the wind, revealing the rest of the island, where the cupid bodies are gone.

Seth kneels in front of me, one arm braced across his chest. “At your service, Your Majesty.”

“Did Freya die?” My nose wrinkles. “No, that’s too coincidental. Do you think Percy did this?”

Seth licks his lips, considering my question for a long time before he says, “I think Percy’s soul enacted Eros’ will.

Gave you back what was stolen. I’d expect Freya to be shouting at her lackeys right about now, but they won’t answer to her anymore.

The common folk never liked my mother, so there’ll be people dancing in the streets tomorrow.

We’ll have to be careful. If she’s alive, she’ll be even more desperate to kill you when we face her again.

But I won’t let her anywhere near you.” His voice trembles, but not from doubt or grief. In fact, it’s brimming with happiness.

I flex my knuckles, my toes digging into the earth. “Stand up, pretty boy.”

He obeys, and I cup my hands to gather spring water inside my palms.

“Now that you’re queen, should we still do this? We won’t be able to keep our marriage secret—not with you wearing the crown,” Seth says quietly, his gaze glued to the ground.

I raise his chin with one finger. “If you’re a traitor, I’m a traitor,” I arch my brows, daring him to contradict his own plea.

“If you’re exiled, then I’ll come with you.

And if I’m queen—” I grin at the word, my breath shaky as hell, unable to keep it all in, my grief momentarily eclipsed by Percy’s final act of healing.

In the end, he did it. Percy fixed me, body and soul.

Relief pulses through me. I’m finally reclaiming my crown, filling that aching emptiness inside—replaced by the hope of a future free of curses, and my love for Seth burning bright, eclipsing everything else.

It’s fucking fabulous.

I was withering before we met, a rose sealed under glass, petals dropping one by one.

Safe to a point, but not living. Drowning in regrets, surrounded by the wreckage of everything I thought I’d be.

Then Seth tore me out of that glass prison, and loved me even though I fought him every step of the way.

After decades in limbo, I’ve lost plenty—endured more than I thought possible—but I’m still here.

The hole left behind by the dreaded arrow that almost carved out my heart has been filled, and the gash in my soul, too. I’m ready to love again. To risk it all. To live .

“And if I’m queen, you’re my king,” I finally say, tipping my chin toward my palms to prompt him to drink, too.

He gathers spring water in his cupped hand. “On three. One.”

“Two.”

We share a solemn, yet mischievous grin that lights up his eyes all the way through.

“Three.” Seth drinks the water from the fountain, and I do the same.

The branches go still. Lotus flowers bow against the pond’s surface, as if leaning in to listen. Moonlight turns the droplets sliding from our fingers into strands of liquid silver.

Seth blinks, once, twice. His gaze roams the small island—the mossy ground, the flowers tucked in the tree’s shade, the canopy overhead, and even the clear waters of the pond.

“Did it work?” I ask, wondering if he feels different at all.

He squints at me, then steps one leg between mine, leaning forward and gently pinning me to the trunk of the Hawthorn at my back.

A storm gathers in my stomach, rumbling low, swelling with the promise of bloom after a monsoon.

Static electricity prickles along my skin, hairs standing on end, the bond between us snapping into place.

The tempest belongs to us both, shared and carried.

A piece of him takes root inside me, undeniable, eternal.

I feel lighter, my body trembling, like I could turn into rain myself and drip into the earth.

“Shouldn’t we… I don’t know…consummate this marriage?” Seth suggests with a kiss, grounding me.

“Here? Now?” I try to keep a straight face, but a big smile spreads across my lips. “That part wasn’t covered in the legends.”

“Yes, but Eros wouldn’t content herself with a gulp of water, no?

” Seth unbuttons my black dress, one button at a time, and spreads it until I’m exposed to him.

The gentle breeze tickles my breasts, making them peak, as he explores the places where my old scars used to be, then traces the lines of my tattoo.

The ink glows with a faint golden sheen under his touch, my new skin even more sensitive than it was, like it’s never been touched before. The matching glow of his skin steals my breath. He looks different, yet the same.

He was always meant to wear a crown.

“She’s the goddess of love, but also desire.

” His nose drags down the slope of my neck, and my lids flutter, the sensations multiplied tenfold.

“Lust.” He plants a hot kiss at the angle of my jaw.

“Sex.” He dips a hand under the lace covering my heat, sinking two fingers inside, and groans at the wetness he finds there.

“She’d need more proof. More…worship,” he adds, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to taste my arousal. “Let me show you how much I love you, my queen.”

I hum at the sight and link my arms around his neck. “Yes. That makes sense.”

He rips my underwear off before his hand moves between us. His breeches slip down, and I wrap my legs around him, pressed between the rough bark of the tree and the greedy proof of his desire.

“It appears I’m your fated mate after all,” he murmurs in my ear.

I meet his eyes and smile. “Now worship me hard, king of my heart.”