An Embrace of Citrus & Snow (Fallen for a Fae #1)

16. Bo

Chapter sixteen

Bo

So, Faerie.

Its magic buzzed on Bo’s skin the way Ever’s did under it. Clung to him, as they left Ever’s place for the Council chambers. Bo would’ve liked to take the scenic route, but after a few dozen steps, the world changed around them.

Eight fae seated in what could only be described as a goddamn fairy glade. Lush grass, springy underfoot. Sheltering, too-green trees, all of them subtly off. Strawberries growing from a pine. Oak trees brilliant with tropical flowers.

Eight pairs of eyes, and these were the people who would debate whether Bo would live or die. None of them even fucking knew him. Or Ever. Not really.

“There’s a lot of them,” Bo said, sotto voce . The fae were arrayed on the other side of the glade, out of earshot. He hoped. “Do you know any of them?”

“Some,” Ever answered after an extended pause, studying the figures. “Protocol dictates a formal introduction, regardless.”

Heated lips on Bo’s neck one minute, making his knees weak. Cold the next, all rigidly perfect posture and his hands clasped behind his back. Enough to give Bo fucking whiplash. He could feel the tight dread through the bond, though, apprehension and no little fear. Tasted like stagnant water, the icy surface broken by a muddy boot.

Bo pressed his arm against Ever’s and heard the kelpie’s breathing level out.

Sixteen eyes watched the gesture with keen attention. Seven of the fae sat poised and perfect, while the last half-reclined on a moss-covered stump that had formed to fit him perfectly .

And fuck, the world was still shifting because he, Ever, and Talia hadn’t moved. But the fae were close now, enough that Bo could make out the furrowed disapproval and tightly pressed lips.

One of the fae smiled, no teeth on display. She had violet skin that twinkled, all small and soft looking. Her hair seemed more like a cloud than anything, a nimbus of blues and purples to match the filigree lining her eyes.

“There you are,” she said, voice light and pleased, a song of salt spray and distant shores. “Lovely to see you all. We were beginning to worry our message didn’t reach you properly.”

“I apologize,” Ever said in his calm, careful way. “A matter required my immediate attention.”

It was “my” now, not “we.” Guilt and ramrod-straight formality. It put Bo’s back up. He pressed his fingertips to the middle of Ever’s back to offer what reassurance he could.

“He means me,” said Talia, hands shoved deep in her pockets, hood and chin both up. “I’m ‘a matter.’ I didn’t want to come, and he couldn’t without me. You’re lucky Bo insisted. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here at all.”

Bo saw the muscle in Ever’s jaw twitch that meant he’d started clenching his teeth. Heard his whispered, “Talia.”

“Oh, right.” Talia even managed to sound like he’d been reminding her of manners instead of trying to tell her not to do what she was doing. Bo really fucking liked this kid. “I’m Talia. I’m a Gate .”

“Fuck yeah, you are, kid.”

“You certainly are,” the woman agreed, smiling at Talia. She slid off her stump, graceful as Ever in his river. Smaller even than Talia and seeming to get smaller as she drew near. It wasn’t a cute, endearing sort of small. “He’s quite lucky to have a ward that cares for him as much as you do about–” a flickering, considering glance between Bo and Ever, sending a chill straight up Bo’s spine, “–your guardians. For my part, I am a hyades.”

Another smile, amused and unruffled.

“And a Councilor.”

“Yes,” said the hyades. “Councilor Yenah. A pleasure, Talia. We’ll take your word under consideration regarding Bo and his … insistence. Before you take your leave, is there anything else you’d like to tell us about your guardians, dear?”

Talia pressed against Ever’s other arm, looking up with a frown. “I’ve gotta leave?”

“You’re not subject to the Council, Talia. I’m sorry. ”

Talia turned that frown on Yenah, because the kid had brass. “They’re mine by oath. Both of them. There’s no rule that says I can’t pick a human, just that they have to be a bond.”

“Both of them are yours by oath,” agreed Yenah. She didn’t even sound condescending. “You chose, as is your right. If we were here to challenge that choice, you’d be asked to stay. Anyone who tries to force a guardian on you is subject to the Council. We aren’t questioning that.”

“I get to pick,” Talia said again. “And I’m not gonna choose anyone who won’t take me to a mall. Bo’s already gonna.”

“Black Friday’s next week,” Bo added, his hand now flat on Ever’s back. Ever, who stood stiff and frozen, his emotions twisting with shame and guilt and discomfort, desperation. It only spiked higher when Bo spoke.

Ever turned toward Talia, and Bo followed, though he kept Ever between himself and Yenah. Talia bit her lip when Everil looked down at her, small and made smaller by that hoodie and her expression. Bo’d seen Robin with the same look. Challenge and worry and trying to trust.

Or Bo was projecting. Probably that.

“Talia,” Ever said, low and as firm as Bo’d ever heard him. “You have my oath. And Bo has my protection. No one will offer him injury, not while I stand.”

Talia wavered, biting her lower lip. She glanced at Bo, then back to Ever, drawing in an unsteady breath.

“You and I are both new to this, kid,” Bo said before anything else got thrown around. Ever fell still all over again, not looking at Bo even when Talia did. “Ever’s more used to this stuff than either of us. Plus, he’s pretty badass.”

“What if they say it’s Protocol?” Yep. Definitely bristling and just a tiny bit accusing. Luckily, she looked back to Ever when she said it because Bo sure as fuck didn’t know the answer.

“It’s Protocol that I keep my promises. And I promise you, no one will do him injury if I can prevent it.” Ever lifted a hand and tapped her chin lightly. “Wait for us. Please?”

Talia nodded, reluctant. Then she turned to Bo, dislodging one of Ever’s hands to frown at him.

“Hi,” Bo said, confused. “What’d I do?”

“You promised me hoodies and malls.” Talia’s eyes shone. Not with power this time. “And a guest spot. Okay? You promised. ”

“I like you too, kid.” Bo tweaked the edge of her hood, smiling crookedly. “Ever’s got me squared away, like he said. I’ll keep my mouth under control.”

Ever managed not to snort. Bo fucking saw the twitch of his eyebrows, there and gone, and Talia rolled her eyes. But she agreed. She left, still unhappy about it, but she did, and even smiled when Bo said, “See you soon, kid.”

Someone would, anyway. Ever, if no one else. Bo flashed her a final grin, and she was gone.

Yenah’s bell voice sounded not a second into the ensuing Gateless moment, her inflection unchanged from before. “How very touching.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Bo said, all camera-ready ease. Smiling, like he was saying hello dreamers . “How’s that for touching?”

“Some advice for you, little human,” the tiny fucking fairy said while Bo tangled his fingers in the ends of Ever’s hair, away from prying eyes. “Freely given. Were I in your place, I’d act as if I were meeting one of my fawning spectators.”

“My apologies, Councilor Yenah.” Ever’s arm slid around Bo’s waist. Solid, reassuring, and Bo hadn’t realized how much he needed it until it was there. “I’ve neglected introductions. Allow me to present my bond, Bo.” And thank fuck , there was weight behind Bo’s name. “Bo, Councilor Yenah and the others present are charged with overseeing relations between the fae and humanity.”

Ever, playing politics. Bo, the feral human. He settled against Ever’s side, the bond thrumming between them, and his arm around Ever in kind.

“You had a matter that required immediate attention.” Yenah and the fae nearest to her made no effort to hide their open study. “One that didn’t require further coercion, luckily for us all. Interestingly met, Bo.”

Bo fucking hated how much easier it was to breathe when she said his name, his proper goddamn name.

“You try coercing Talia to do shit and tell me how it goes,” Bo replied, glancing past her to the group of fae. “And yeah, interestingly met. One way to put it.”

This time, when Yenah smiled, there were dimples . Jesus, she was creepy.

“I’m sure. Shall we? It’s time for introductions.” Yenah turned back to the group, revealing a pair of butterfly wings no larger than Bo’s palms. They fluttered when she walked. “I was elected to lead this meeting, but I’m sure the others will wish their say.”

“It always goes more smoothly when you’re in charge, dear Yenah.” The flirtatious tones came from the lanky fae in the seat beside Yenah’s. Their hair, a stripe of it running from the top of their head to the back of their neck, looked like seaweed, sticking slick to their neck. Long features, long limbs, and Bo bet they had fangs, too. “Aren’t you at least a little pleased to see it’s us, Everil? Human oversight rather than … other possibilities.”

“I’m as pleased to see all of you as you are to see me,” Everil replied, and another time, Bo might’ve smirked.

“You two can catch up after we attend to formalities,” Yenah said, her sweet, twinkling voice firm. The lanky fae made eyes at her. At least they didn’t have fucking dimples. “For record purposes, Councilors, allow me to present Everil and Bo. As said, I am Councilor Yenah, and this is Councilor Charil.”

She looked expectantly at the pair across from her and Charil, a few yards away. The first, a woman with milk-white skin and a small, iridescent horn at the center of her forehead, sniffed. “Councilor Velriks with Councilor Ryka.”

Ryka, with wings of flame and a disapproving sneer, barely bothered to nod.

A unicorn and a phoenix, and neither of them fans. Fantastic .

After that, there was the rustling disapproval of Councilor Saliese, a dryad that looked far too much like the one from the willow tree. Councilor Fiadh, her bond, had a silver-gray fur cloak clasped to her shoulder under a spill of auburn curls and a whisper-soft voice. Rumbling Councilor Teth, a huge fucking mountain of a fae with moss for a beard, polite as rocks could sound when grinding together.

Teth’s bond, still reclining, was the weirdest of the group. Long white ears and features way too finely made to be anything like human, Councilor Wyte wore torn jeans and a t-shirt with the colors–and name–of Robin’s favorite hockey team.

No, not just his favorite team. Wyte leaned to murmur to Teth, his back to Bo, and yeah. Wyte, the rabbit-eared fae, was apparently wearing a Barrai González shirt like twenty years after the dude retired.

Fuck Robin, for making Bo learn way too much about hockey. And for having him staring until Wyte caught him at it and winked.

“Now, then,” said Yenah with a flutter of her little butterfly wings, “What is in question here is Bo. What–”

“Who.”

Yenah paused, blinking once in Bo’s direction. “Who?”

“I’m a person,” Bo said, voice flat. “ Bo is the person in question. I’m not Everil’s fucking pet. I’m his bond, and I’m right the fuck in front of you. ”

“Your alleged bond is the matter under discussion.” Yenah’s voice never lost its light, pleasant music. Bo bristled anyway. “Everil, you must have known your new partnership would face more than censure. You’re claiming a legitimate second bond when the separation from Nimai wasn’t done properly.”

“I’ve not trespassed against Protocol,” Everil answered, his thumb stroking firm and slow over Bo’s back. “Bonding a human isn’t forbidden nor is taking a new bond after the first was dissolved.”

“But it wasn’t dissolved,” Velriks objected, her voice as smooth as her moon-pale skin. She kept her gaze pointedly away from Bo and Ever. Asshole. “You made no formal complaint. You didn’t revoke your oath or wait the appropriate interval. You merely threw a tantrum. Nimai still has pieces of your soul within him.”

“And then there is the matter of Talia. The influence he has on her,” Yenah added, lips pulled into a frown of quiet concern.

Bo fucking burned . He snapped, “Talia can think for herself.”

“My bond is correct.” The weight on ‘my bond’ was unmistakable. “Talia’s choices are her own. She’s fully aware of her right to swear herself away from me. Protocol–”

“Protocol is built on tradition,” the fucking asshole unicorn said. “ Precedent . It cannot, by its very nature, govern the unprecedented. What you’ve done isn’t against Protocol. It is merely wrong .” She wrinkled her nose, delicately, and looked at Yenah. “I maintain that this entire subject is disgusting. Must we really discuss whether a kelpie is permitted to claim that … engaging … with whatever slut catches his eye makes that human our equal? Worthy of guarding a Gate?”

Ever snarled, borderline goddamn feral. Bo wasn’t even surprised this time, when he found himself staring at Ever’s back. Sharp breaths and murmuring from the Council, quieting as the glade took on the distinctive scent of snow, the trees leaning in, their leaves frost nipped.

Apparently branding Bo a slut slammed buttons Bo hadn’t realized Ever had. Like, sure, that was a new one–and fuck the unicorn for slut shaming–but good fucking god.

“There is Protocol around insulting my bond, Councilor Velriks.” Ever’s voice still sounded calm, though very fucking cold.

“Your bond isn’t present,” Velriks replied, her words no longer so smooth. When Bo moved to look around Ever at the unicorn, she was staring at Ever with wide eyes. Doe-like and lovely, a soft, gentle creature faced with what she’d probably call a monster.

“How about you shut the fuck up? ”

“ Enough .” Bells turned to the warning snap of lightning too close to the ground. Bo turned his wary gaze on the cloud-haired Yenah. She, in turn, eyed Ever with no little amount of that same wary look. “Humans are not fae. There is no ‘equal.’ The validity of your bond is in question, as is whether or not we face a threat from him.”

“The conversation is not about kelpies,” Charil added, a little defensively. What were they? Some sort of water horse, Bo was certain. “I trust we’d still be here just as we are if Everil were, say, a sidhe or brownie.”

“Of course,” Velriks answered. The liar. “But it is true that some fae are more susceptible to temptation than others. And humans are a vile influence, driving the weak minded to rash actions.”

Ever didn’t snarl again, but a stream cut its way through the grotto, dividing Bo and Ever from the Council.

“We poison them as much as they do us,” Fiadh, in her fur cloak, said from where she was tucked against her bond. Her voice was mournful moonlight threaded through a lullaby. “We are water to humanity’s oil fire. You’d do best to forget about this,” that, she said to Bo, limpid black pools beseeching, “about him, and leave this be.”

“Quite.” Velriks sniffed.

“Enough, darling,” said the phoenix, settling her golden, flame tipped hand over Velriks’s pale one. “Let’s not chase this question in further circles. Our honored colleagues are committed to seeing this through. Even if the kelpie is so clearly mistaken.”

“I’m not a child, confusing infatuation with magic.” The ice in Ever’s voice rang through the clearing, and warmed Bo to the bones. “Bo is my soulbond, whether you agree with it or not.”

“There is no fucking way it was infatuation instead of a bond,” Bo scoffed, still behind and half blocked by Ever’s back. “Not like ‘you look like shit’ is much of a pickup line.”

“Charming,” came the whisper dry voice of the dryad, flat for all that it was little more than the rustling of leaves. Across the (rapidly quickening) stream, she stared at Bo with the same disinterested hardness as the one in the willows. Her too green gaze flicked to Ever after a short study. “What you are is tied to another. You don’t have the whole of you to bond with and chose a hunter .”

Disgust curled her words, browned the edges of the wind tumbled leaves that surrounded her seat. Beside her, fur-cloaked Fiadh flinched.

“How the fuck would I have been able to do the forest thing if we weren’t bonded?” Bo muttered, fingers curling in Ever’s shirt .

And Ever, fucking bless Ever, leaned down and murmured against his hair, “You’d have not been, sweet Bo. Nor could I have found you.”

“He looks for us the dryad said, while Bo’s little heart grew three sizes and melted simultaneously. “He tells the world of his findings. Untold numbers watch him do so. Everil, you claim to have bonded a predator with only part of your soul and then you gave him a Gate .”

Fuck Bo forever, but Nimai’d said the same thing. Said it like an oily weasel might, deadly and waiting for weakness. Called it a coup . Fucker. Fuckers.

“No,” Bo snapped, sharp. Ever … purred? Oh. Nope. That was a stifled, near-silent growl. Sharp rocks lined the widening stream, nestled in the bottom soil, coupled with spiraling, dangerous looking currents. “Fuck that. I wouldn’t.”

“Humans,” the leaves murmured back, “tend to lie.”

“Unlike fae?” Councilor Wyte, still lounging, grinned at the dryad with far too many teeth, his delicate fingers idly toying with one of his long, soft looking ears. “C’mon, Sal. Let’s not play the holier-than-thou card.” His smile was impossibly wide. “We’re all mad here.”

“Councilor Wyte. Could you try not to be crass?” Velriks’s managed to make a whine sound silken, her pale features drawn. “This is a matter of grave concern.”

The mountain at Wyte’s side made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, quiet and hidden behind a beard of moss.

“I could. But I won’t.” Wyte studied Bo, smile gone. “We’re talking about a ReelSelf influencer. Grave is a stretch.”

“You’re the one who said he hunts us,” came the unicorn’s plaintive reply.

“I said he–” Wyte cut himself off with a tug at one of his ears. “Never mind. I don’t have it in me to try and explain the internet again. He looks for us, yeah. And why’s that? Because we fucked up. Let our names be used to trick and twist a kid . Not for wonder or joy, but cash . Used to be, we’d make someone pay for that.”

“There was a time, yes. And what came of it?” The dryad’s voice was the snap of dry wood. “Those who didn’t punish humans were used. Those that did, dubbed monsters. And he is a child no longer.”

Bo leaned into Everil, jaw set. They were talking about his parents . Reasoning out his goddamn life. He wasn’t just going to stand there and listen.

“Monsters, fuck. You want to know what I learned about dryads? Once, we went camping. I was, fuck, nine or ten. They gave me meds to make me sleep, and I woke up in the fucking forest alone in my pajamas. Covered in scratches, like something dragged me through it.” Bo smiled, the expression as hard and angry as he was. “They said it was because I was special . And you only let me go because of the iron I kept in my pockets or some shit. And they made me tell it over and over for the whole world to hear and read. You became the goddamn monster.”

Ever pulled Bo into his arms, holding him close. It helped. A little.

“You can go stuff your ‘not a child’ excuse,” Bo continued, his hand gentle on Ever’s arm, thumb rubbing one of his wrists. “And for saying we’re only part bonded, Ever found me through that wisp’s dampening spell in one of your forests where one of your dryads got himself partially flash fried because my scared ass used magic through our bond. If that’s only ‘partial’, we better all be really fucking happy for that, ’cause the whole forest would’ve gone up if what I saw was just runoff from a halfway knitted bond.”

“You have my soul,” Ever murmured, barely a whisper against Bo’s ear. “Torn or no, it rests with you.”

“Mutual,” Bo answered, equally soft. “Really fucking mutual, Ever.”

Bo could feel Ever’s smile, faint, against his hair where no one else could see it.

Three fucking days and there they were, pledging their damn souls. Fucking fae and their thing with threes.

“Now, see? They’re cute. How isn’t that cute?” Wyte was grinning again. “The guy has a point. If we’re weighing out Ever’s soul here, Bo’s got most of it. He proved that.”

“He proved that Everil recklessly allowed a dangerous human to attack one of ours.” Velriks turned her pale gaze to Ever. “Nimai was good for you. And, despite how you wronged him, he is willing to have you back. Instead, you sully yourself with a human.”

Of fucking course, she only looked at Ever to say shit like that. Ever’s grip tightened around Bo, guilt and fury flaring brightly between them. Bo fucking hated that guilt. Hated how it turned to shame, even when he clung to Bo.

“ Councilor Velriks,” Wyte’s voice stayed light and playful, but Bo knew the addition of edged mockery when he heard it, “maybe this pretty glass house isn’t the best place for a stone throwing contest. Though if you really want to play ‘never have I ever sullied myself with a human,’ I’m not against getting the whole Council drunk.”

“The whole Council?” Charil asked, their seaweed mane perking with sudden interest. “Not just our committee?”

“Yep.” Wyte said it with a sharp pop to the ‘p.’

“My point is that even if this is a bond, it is unsuitable. ”

“I believe,” the towering, moss-bearded fae at Wyte’s side spoke for the first time, their voice stone against stone, “that the Council will not be well served by gaining a reputation for passing judgment on whom one joins their soul to, let alone whom they might lie with. We are asking if there is a bond, not whether there should be.”

“I’m afraid I must agree with Councilor Teth,” Fiadh, sad eyed, spoke as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her. Her haunting voice reminded Bo of distant shores and cold green hills. “There were those speaking against Saliese and I, once. Do you remember? For my…” She hesitated, shooting her dryad bond a furtive look. “For my engagements.”

“He stole your pelt , Councilor Fiadh,” Velriks met Fiadh’s eyes, her disgusted expression barely softening. “That’s not the same.”

“Maybe not. But if the Council of the time had judged bonds, I’d still be voiceless on that rock.” Fiadh looked so fucking small. “Or killed, to leave her free. I disapprove of this entire ugly situation. The idea of them. Even so, with all that I know, I must cast my voice with Councilor Teth.”

Fiadh’s bond shot her a concerned look, bark-textured fingers coming to rest on the selkie’s. Because Bo was certain that’s what she was.

“At last, we progress.” Tiny Yenah’s wings fluttered with what Bo guessed was impatience. “Any further objections?”

Again, the glade filled with murmurs and looks shared between bonds. The unicorn and the phoenix looked mutinous. The selkie, sad.

“I still say this is beneath us,” Velriks complained primly, as her horn shifted through pearlescent shades. “But if this means not having to continue watching the pair of them, very well.”

“Can I put in a vote for watching?“ Wyte finally leaned forward, his expression shifting from sympathetic to leering. “I mean if it’s on the menu.”

The clearing of a throat, or maybe actual laughter, sounded from Teth. It was all gravel on gravel on boulder, anyway. “I highly doubt it is.”

“Definitely not on the menu.” Somehow, Bo managed to sound cheerful. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.”

“Can’t blame a bunny for trying.” Wyte gestured vaguely toward the edge of the clearing. “You’re late, you’re late, and so forth. Let’s get this over with.”

“We’ve all voiced our thoughts,” Yenah said, with another restless flutter of wings. “Charil and I will see them to the first judge, unless any of you wish to claim the honor. ”

Fiadh shuddered, her face twisted into a mask of disgust and fear. The others looked similarly uncomfortable. Only Teth and Wyte looked undisturbed by the idea.

“Nah.” Wyte winked at Bo again. “Tell him ‘hi’ for me, though.”

“We’ve had our fill of that sort of company.” The dryad’s words came with a disapproving rustle. “How he weaseled his way onto the panel is beyond me. By all means, take the risk with that–”

“Councilor Saliese.” Yenah said quietly, though not soft. She stared at the dryad, lightning crackling over her hair, and that near constant small smile gone. “I strongly advise against disrespecting these judges.”

The dryad stilled. After a moment, she said, stiffly, “We’ll not request the honor.”

“What the fuck has them grossed out?” Bo asked under his breath, glancing sidelong at Ever.

Ever shook his head, arms tighter still around Bo. Trepidation and anxiety and protective anger curled around Bo through the bond. It was all he could do to not bolt, then and there.

Whatever fae waited for them, they were creepy enough to churn the stomachs of some of the most influential fae in all of Faerie.

Fuck.