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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ossian did not move from his seat when a boom sounded against the portcullis, didn’t even flinch, but he did stop eating. “Meadow—”

“Is it sluagh?” I asked Alec. “Mallaithe?”

“It’s the rabble,” the Brother spat.

Well that hadn’t taken Flora and Daphne very long at all.

“Meadow, go to your room,” the fae king ordered.

“I will not.” Instead, I covered Ossian’s hand with my own and forced our fingers to interlace. His brow furrowed at the gesture. Ignoring him, I turned to Alec. “Please continue your report about our subjects. They’re not rabble, Alec.”

The tension in the Stag Man’s hand eased. “Go on, Alec. Meadow is practicing at being my consort, so we’ll indulge her.”

My pride prickled at his patronizing tone, but Misty Fields only lifted her eyebrows at the Brother expectantly.

“Reports of unrest have only increased, my lord,” Alec said slowly, as if censoring his words. “We suspect there may have been side effects from anchoring the portal last night. An, um, interruption in your, um, magic?”

He means the illusions keeping the populace controlled. The Caer powder! Though, it could’ve been a result from both; I wasn’t a fae magic expert, after all, and Callan’s lock on that portal had definitely given his brother one heck of a wallop.

From the way Ossian’s fingers savagely pinched mine—even for only the brief second it lasted—I knew the Stag Man was livid. His carefully laid plans and his confidence in his own abilities were beginning to unravel.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alec,” I snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with the king’s magic. Our people only want reassurance. And why wouldn’t they? There was a magic disturbance last night. Not to mention you and your Brotherhood have been trying to apprehend the villain Wystan for weeks now to no avail. And he only a hobgoblin.”

Alec’s face went from a pasty white to a ruddy red, his blue eyes blazing.

“Oh spare me.” I gave his glare a dismissive wave of my hand then picked up the Riesling. Even with the pause granted by my need for a sip, the Stag Man didn’t speak. He just watched me.

“Am I wrong?” I continued. “The men charged with their protection aren’t delivering the safety they promised. Now they see a bright magical blast last night that they know nothing about? Remember, only this court knows we’re bound for Elfame. Of course they’re acting out. It’s our duty to comfort them, don’t you agree, Ossian?”

As Alec and I waited for his response, I fiddled with the rubies at my throat. The quail-egg-sized ruby of my engagement ring caught the candlelight and scattered red flecks across the Stag Man’s face and chest.

Ossian noted the seemingly subconscious gesture and untangled his hand from mine so he could stand. As he stalked over to the stag throne, he threw over his shoulder, “Let them in, Alec.”

While his back was turned, Alec threw me another murderous glare before marching off. He sent a similar glare at Shane, who didn’t even blink. Moments later, a querulous cacophony echoed in the foyer, then down the hallway. The double doors of the great hall burst open for the second time tonight, clanging loudly as they knocked into the walls.

Alec reappeared, trying to control the tide of angry townsfolk without the aid of his magic and failing. He abandoned the endeavor and practically retreated to the foot of dais with his proverbial tail between his legs. Supposedly to defend his king, but undoubtedly to draw on the safety granted by Ossian’s proximity. He was forced to the side, however, for Shane already occupied the favored spot.

An army of beasts marched into the great hall—deer and cattle, horses and pigs, goats and llamas, hedgehogs and squirrels, egrets and herons, songbirds and jays, and so many rabbits. No apex predators, nothing that could challenge the Stag Man with tooth or claw. Save the bear and the honey badger, of course, but Flora, nor any of my other friends, were nowhere to be seen.

Lying low from a hard day’s work of inciting rebellion, I supposed.

The beasts at the forefront of the assembly balked upon sighting the hulking grizzly bear in the corner, but those behind them pushed forward until what seemed like the entire town was packed into the cavernous room. The bear remained prone, unmoving, though he watched the crowd with bright eyes. Perhaps searched for an ally.

Movement to my right jerked my attention away from the crowd—the side door was opening. Mrs. Bilberry, the woodchucks, and all the rest of the castle staff clustered together in the doorway to watch.

The army of beasts parted with much stomping of hooves and fluttering of wings to reveal an angry beaver and anxious- looking raccoon clinging to his arm. The carpenter had been deprived of his hammer and hand saw upon entry, but that didn’t stop him from using his empty toolbelt like a whip. Cody Beecham slapped it against the stone floor with a crack that split the air like a gunshot.

“Beaver,” Ossian thundered from his throne upon the dais. “What is the meaning of this insurrection?”

“I-insurrection?” Emmett sputtered. He tugged harder on the beaver’s arm to no avail. “Th-this is just a mass gathering of concerned citizens, Cernunnos, that’s all.” The raccoon plucked a flask from his satchel and thrust it at the beaver. “Calm yourself.”

“Cernunnos,” Cody hollered, thrusting his tool belt at the Stag Man, “Redbud’s in a state of panic and we’ve seen neither hide nor hair of you. The roguery and magical hinkery has gotten out of control! What are you going to do about it?”

“Cody Beecham.” At the power vibrating in my voice, every eye turned towards me still seated at the dining table. Green magic danced in my eyes and swirled about my fingertips.

Cody flinched, and Emmett shrank in on himself as if he was trying to dissolve into the floor. The rest of the townsfolk split their attention between the obvious power play and the food on the table. I knew the look of hunger—had experienced it myself upon fleeing to Redbud on the thinnest of shoestring budgets. They weren’t starving yet, but it was beginning.

I added that to my mental tally of crimes Ossian had committed against Redbud and finished my reprimand. “You will speak to the King of Beasts with a little more decorum, please.”

The raccoon elbowed the beaver in the ribs when he didn’t immediately acknowledge my request.

“Of course, milady. Sorry, milady.” The beaver nodded once in deference and turned back to the dais. He didn’t apologize to the fae king, though, just squared his rounded shoulders and continued his list of grievances. “Wystan and his thugs have been snatching people off the streets in broad daylight! Some of us have been forced to abandon our homes so we can band together to fend off the abductions. And now he’s got more magic on his side?”

Ossian didn’t say anything, his jewel-green eyes glittering as he drummed the fingers of one hand against the armrest.

“More magic? What do you mean, Cody?” I prompted.

“That bright light, of course! Sent a shock wave through the whole town—we all felt it, didn’t we? Woke up with some nausea and a serious case of the heebie-jeebies, didn’t we?” The beaver jabbed a black nail at the Stag Man. “Got an explanation for that? Or a game plan to counteract whatever fresh devilry he’s up to?”

“If I did,” Ossian replied stonily, “I would not need to share it with the likes of you.”

Had I not been told otherwise, I would’ve blamed the Stag Man’s insufferable superiority complex as the reason for his exile from Elfame. On the plus side, I didn’t have to work as hard to turn public opinion against him. He was doing an exemplary job all by himself.

“The shock wave was from a portal, Cody,” I quickly explained. The herbivore looked ready to charge up that dais and take a bite out of the fae king’s leg. “I summoned and anchored a portal to Elfame last night, and let’s just say fae magic and green magic don’t quite get along.”

It was a white lie, of course, but one that prevented the irate beaver from having yet another barb to hurl at the fae king and risk landing him in that insidious dungeon.

“The immortal lands,” a voice whispered from the side door. Which member of the castle staff had murmured the words, I couldn’t be sure, but they caught like wildfire throughout the assembly.

“Elfame, the land of the Fair Folk?” Emmett asked. Of course he would’ve heard the term with his brownie Monkfoot running around. “But why—”

“So you’re going to up and leave us while that hobgoblin you promised to apprehend continues to terrorize us?” Cody shouted. “What king does that?”

Mutters and grumbles filled the great hall, and the Brothers who had stationed themselves at the entry shifted uneasily. The bluish-green fae markings on their skin began to writhe in anticipation of an attack.

Ossian’s voice resounded like thunder through the hall, quelling the dissent. “The Brotherhood has been doing everything—”

“The Brotherhood is a bunch of bullies!” Cody swung his tool belt at Alec. “And that witless wonder is the worst of them. If we ask for their help, they lock us up for being ‘public nuisances’ or ‘disturbing the peace.’ Our peace was disturbed long ago when our kin started getting snatched.”

Cody slapped his tool belt against the stone again, the leather snapping like a whip. “You’re the King of Beasts, aren’t you? Command that one—” He pointed to the grizzly chained in the corner and stopped short. Squinted. As if he realized there was something different about the bear. “Have that boy put his muscles to use and go hunt that hobgoblin down instead of just wallowing there,” he plowed ahead. “His upkeep is costing us taxpayers a fortune!”

“That’s a great idea!” a hog cried—Mr. Bensen.

“Free the bear!” an old border collie barked—Codrin Alder. The rest of his ranchers, border collies to a man, howled their agreement .

The beasts broke out into an auditory barrage of neighs, bellows, hoots, and chatters.

The blue flames jumped in the fireplace in a blaze of heat and light as Ossian erupted from his throne. According to the fae bargain, he couldn’t hurt my friends—Emmett and Cody—but he could signal his displeasure to the Brotherhood and let those tyrants do what they willed. And as for the rest of the dissenters . . ..

Emerald green vines erupted from my hands. They coiled around the trestle table and rotated it ninety degrees, effectively blockading the Stag Man and his two magic hunters away from the townsfolk. The vines vanished, and all that remained of my magic was a soft green glow radiating from my skin and eyes. I rose fluidly from my chair and crossed into the empty expanse that separated the two hostile parties.

With my back to the fae king, I raised my hands to the citizens of Redbud. “There is no need for the bear. And I must apologize to you, my friends. I am the reason why our great Cernunnos has been unable to devote his whole attention to bringing this criminal to justice. I was cursed, you see, and the fae king was devoted to helping me free myself.”

Trembling with effort I didn’t feel in the least, I thrust my hands down at the ground. The crowd gasped as pink clematis vines grew out from the cracks in the stone floor.

I let them ogle at the beautiful magic before making it disappear with a sweep of my hand. “But I am whole now, and Cernunnos can return his attention to what matters most—his court. I promise you the King of Beasts will do everything in his power to apprehend the criminal before leaving for Elfame. You know me, Meadow Hawthorne. You know you can trust me when I say this will happen. Now, go in peace, friends.”

My display and my speech concluded, I clasped my hands in front of my stomach and gave Emmett a pointed look .

The raccoon bobbed a hasty bow. “Many thanks, milady. Thank you for taking our concerns to heart.” Then he tugged on his best friend’s arm. “Come on. ”

Cody lingered a beat, still staring at the bear chained in the corner. At his apprentice.

The beaver gave me a bewildered look before he let the raccoon drag him back a few steps. The dispersing crowd swallowed them up, hopefully before Ossian could note the carpenter’s strange behavior. Those at the side door quickly retreated, shutting the door as inconspicuously as possible.

The magic hunters posted at the double doors did the same when the last of the beasts were in the hallway. No sooner did the latches click into place did the trestle table screech back into its original position with a shove of copper-colored magic. No care had been taken to make sure the food and cutlery didn’t go scattering every which way like cockroaches, and my empty stomach protested at the sight of my mashed potatoes slung across the stone floor like spackle.

Ossian stomped down the dais and stopped a short distance away. He looked ready to throttle me, but instead he bellowed at the side door, “Get in here and clean this up!”

Mrs. Bilberry quickly appeared along with half the hobs and the two Lancaster brothers. The Labrador retrievers made quick work of lapping up all the spilled food from the floor. The woodchucks did the same with the food on the table, although they used dust pans and hand brooms and deposited the remains into a slop bucket for the bear. Mrs. Bilberry hurried after them with a mop and rag soaked in suds.

The Stag Man’s hand twitched as he fought his intrusive thoughts. He settled for clamping down on my shoulder, the one without the foraging bag strap slung across it. His fingers pinched, nails cutting. “You had no right to promise that on my behalf. ”

I peeled his fingers off me, tossed his hand aside, and gave him what I hoped was a queenly arch to my eyebrow. “That’s an odd way to say ‘thank you.’ And why not? That hobgoblin is beneath you in skill and cunning, and yet it’s shocking how long he’s evaded capture.”

“My sole focus is helping you charge that key,” he growled, “not chasing a criminal across the countryside.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Charging the key will only require a fraction of actual input on your part, and I’ll be using the rest of the time to replenish my magic. No reason why you can’t be doing your kingly duty while I’m resting and bring Wystan to justice. The Green Mother forbid some of our current court come with us and pollute the Court of Beasts in Elfame saying you can’t finish a simple task.”

Ossian darted a glance at the woodchucks, then the dogs, then the badger, all of them busy cleaning away and yet listening to every word. He swallowed thickly, something like hate flickering in his eyes.

Like always, his expression smoothed into one of calm confidence. “A fine point, love.”

“You’ll catch him in no time,” I assured him, taking his hand and kissing the back of his knuckles.

It was a submissive gesture and one that seemed to soften him towards me, for his fingers caressed lightly against my cheek. I was just a tool to him, a means to an end, but one he had to keep appeased. For now. His abrupt change in demeanor proved he was just as committed to his charade as I was to mine.

“Well, big day tomorrow. I’m off to fuss with the sourdough starter and then go to sleep.” And maybe rustle up some leftovers since your little temper tantrum threw our dinner all over the ground . Aunt Peony would’ve strung him up by his thumbs on the trellis with the pole beans if he’d ever done something like that in her dining room .

The Stag Man’s hand twisted in mine, his fingers encircling my wrist. “You know, you needn’t stay alone in the east wing now.”

Ossian’s jewel-bright eyes gleamed, the thing trapped in the blue stone on his necklace swirled. Inside, there was a pull like the lust of the rubies, though this one tugged on the hollow piece of my heart. My skin crawled like it was infested with a thousand ladybugs—I would forever be tied to this monster through that stolen fated mate bond.

The Stag Man swept a lock of hair behind my ear, fingers hooking behind my jaw and drawing me closer. “You don’t need a meditation haven anymore. Nothing is stopping us from finally sharing a room.”

“Except that whole marriage thing,” I replied, fighting to keep my voice from trembling with disgust and more than a little fear at the power he still held over me. “You fae have your rites and we witches have ours. You wouldn’t want to sabotage something as important as returning to Elfame for a mere moment of passion, would you?”

“It’d be more than a mere moment, love.” He nuzzled my neck, biting down again to mark me as his. That pesky healing magic I possessed kept erasing it—oh, thistle thorns!

Ossian moaned as I slid my hands between us and braced against his chest. The sound didn’t fool me—the only pleasure he took was the kind where he was in control. This seduction of Violet’s heir was nothing more than him settling the score of a centuries’ old insult against an opponent that didn’t exist anymore. And the best part? He wasn’t even good at it. He was relying on glamour and an archaic definition of masculinity in an attempt to overwhelm my senses.

It was why, even as he cheated and plied me with the stolen bond, I could still think of Arthur. An echo of the feelings I’d had for the gentle giant remained. His seduction had been subtle—chivalrous gestures, gentle teasing, his quiet confidence, his patience, a thorough knowledge of his own boundaries and needs, and most of all, his vulnerability. He’d never made me feel small, never foisted his own insecurities on me, never took more than I could give. Even without the tether that had bound us through fate, I would have fallen for him.

But the safety of an entire town, the fate of a lost brother, and the lives of an imprisoned coven riding on my shoulders demanded I endure a broken heart and a fae king’s attention. As much as I could, anyway.

“Good- night , Ossian.” A firm push against his chest separated us.

“See you at dawn, love.”