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

23. Everil

Chapter twenty-three

Everil

They had survived. Despite interfering with an ancient fae’s sovereign territory. Despite Everil’s unforgivable missteps (breaking her cup) . Despite all of it, they had survived. Passed another trial; received Leana’s blessing.

The next judges wouldn’t be so forgiving. Kesk and Veroni, the sidhe and the sylph. The Monarchs’ heirs now, as if they needed more justification for their arrogance.

Everil allowed his hand to brush Bo’s as they stepped through the door of Leana’s home and into new territory.

Dark wood gave way to austere elegance. Pillars of ivory and marble, shot through with gold. Perhaps a dozen fae ringed the outer edges of the room, many of them familiar. Gauze-winged piskies, bright-scaled undines, and towering brownies. Kesk and Veroni’s sycophants. He knew their names. Their laughter.

And there, on the other end of the long room, waiting for their approach through the smiling crowd, their judges.

Kesk, like all sidhe, was startlingly beautiful, even by fae standards. Eerily perfect from his blood-red lips to his pearl-pale skin. His hair and enormous wings were true bronze, glittering under lights he’d doubtless summoned for just that effect. He wore a crown of antlers and a perfectly tailored black suit.

Veroni, wispy and ethereal, in a crown of silver. Valkyrie wings flared from the flyaway curls of her hair, and her pale blue ballgown set off the storm cloud gray of her skin perfectly. Her smile was as it’d always been. Cruel.

They were among Nimai’s oldest friends. The power couple that he had wished them to emulate only to have Everil let him down.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Kesk called, gesturing for them to step forward. “I won’t say you don’t suit each other.”

Kesk’s voice had hooks in it, dragging Everil’s gaze to him and making Bo start. It was a quirk of sidhe that Everil had always despised. When one spoke, you couldn’t help but listen.

“Kesk. Veroni.” Everil started the too-long walk forward, his hand falling away from Bo’s. He could feel the bitter burn of anxiety through their bond, but there was no way for him to address it. Not here. “We thank you for your hospitality.”

“Hospitality,” Veroni said, cold-eyed and smiling like a hungry cat. “Do you hear that, love? Our hospitality.”

“Perhaps they’re expecting tea and cake.” Kesk laughed, and so too did every fae in the room. “You’re here to be judged. Not entertained.”

Everil and Bo stood at the foot of the twin thrones. He glanced at Bo, expecting some rejoinder. None came. Bo so rarely held his tongue. He’d spat venom as the dryad attacked him and faced down Leana. Selfishly, Everil found comfort in that defiance. Bo was, in so many ways, stronger than Everil.

But here, now, he was quiet.

“We were invited. You opened the way.” Everil kept his voice level, even as he shifted closer to Bo. If Kesk wouldn’t concede the point, they would leave. Quickly.

“Always so particular, Everil,” Veroni murmured, all cultured exasperation. “Very well. You’re our guest.”

“You and your pet,” Kesk added. He studied Bo, lips pressed together in open disdain. “Oberon, wasn’t it? And you’ve even given him a little oak crown. Never knew you to have a sense of humor, pony.”

“Bo.” Calm still, even through gritted teeth. “You’ll address my bondmate as Bo.”

“ So particular.” A quiet laugh from Veroni, then a susurration of amusement through the room. “How fun it will be to have you back at our parties. Does Bo know any tricks?”

“We know he turns them.” Kesk’s attention remained on Bo, lips smiling and eyes hard. “What do you pay your little pet in, pony? I might just know someone in the market.”

Everil growled, low, taking a step forward. Foolish. He knew it was foolish. He just didn’t care .

“You will stop ,” he snarled .

Kesk didn’t even glance at him. “My mother collects humans, you see. Sick habit, but you try telling her that. If you’re looking to trade up, she’s between toys. You’ll get further with her than with the pony.”

“Refreshing to meet a guy who cares so much about making sure his mom gets properly dicked down.” Anger radiated from Bo: sunburnt citrus and swarming bees. “But I’m not a pet or a toy. And I’m more than good with my bondmate. My affinity bond, Everil. A kelpie.”

Veroni’s eyes went wide while Kesk’s perfect brow furrowed. Everil didn’t let himself smile. Though he did lean in, when Bo looped an arm around his waist. Showing attachment, or any weakness, in front of Kesk and Veroni was deeply unwise. The pair loved knowing where best to dig a blade. And still, selfishly, Everil was glad of Bo’s nearness.

“Like really has found like.” Kesk’s grin twisted into a sneer. His knuckles were white. Whiter.

“And still, poor Nimai persists in his affections,” Veroni added, with a dismayed shake of her head. “You aren’t bonded, human. Not unless we judge it so.”

“Then set us our trial,” Everil said, the growl still in his voice. “We’re prepared to face it.”

“In such a hurry? But it’s been so long, and we’re only just catching up.” Kesk reached up, adjusting his crown of antlers. “Do you know,” his gaze was fixed on Bo again, “my mother managed to whelp a fae with one of her little pets. And kept the creature. Can you imagine? Disgusting . I killed the mortal, of course. What else can one do? Humans are a disease, corrupting decent fae.”

“And indecent ones,” Veroni’s smirk in Everil’s direction left no doubt whom she meant.

Everil kept his expression neutral, even as he feared he’d stop breathing. This, Kesk’s fresh loathing for humanity, was new. Technically, he was required to judge them fairly. Even for the Monarchs’ heirs, the oaths of a judge were binding.

But fairness was a dangerously mutable concept. And technicalities, in Faerie, cost lives.

Everil knew he should let it lie. Play the game. Kesk and Veroni wanted to see him yield. Bow his head and play the docile pony.

Bo’s hand was hot against his side.

“Would you settle this?” Everil asked. “You have transgressed, repeatedly, against Protocol. ”

Could he take the pair? Well rested and ready, perhaps. Their power had always been more social than magical. Of course, Everil wasn’t well rested. But they didn’t know that.

Veroni looked at him as if she wished herself a phoenix, able to conjure fire with her rage. Kesk showed his teeth in what definitely wasn’t a smile. For a breath, Everil feared his bluff called.

But they had always hated a fair fight.

“Do learn to take a joke,” the sidhe said, sitting back in his throne. He gestured vaguely backward to a pair of ivory doors that manifested at that moment. “Everil to the left. Bo to the right. Exit before the door opens for you, and the trial is forfeit.”

“One can only hope it be so easy,” Veroni murmured, just loud enough to be heard.

Bo’s hand fell from Everil’s waist as he turned to face him. There was that endearing, crooked grin. Even now. Even in this.

“See you on the other side, kelpie.”

“Always,” Everil promised.

What else was there to say?

The room Everil entered was cold and beautiful in the way of Kesk’s territory. White marble and a thick, white-furred rug. Two chairs, straight-backed and austere, facing each other. One of them was occupied.

Nimai.

No figment, not this time. Everil could feel the tug of like to like, of the shredded remnants of his soul still held and kept.

“Sit down, my love.” Nimai’s voice was always so warm. So cultured. He was smiling at Everil, in the way he could smile when he wanted to. All affection and forgiveness. “How I’ve missed you. Funny that it should take a human to bring you back to me.”

Everil didn’t move.

“It’s a chair, Everil. It won’t hurt you. Come now, I’ve refreshments. There’s no call for rudeness. Sit.”

He felt so foolish, standing there, stiff and unsure. With Nimai’s eyes on him, he could think of nothing but what a mess he’d made of everything. How much trouble he’d put him through.

And still, Nimai kept showing up. Kept trying .

He had killed Lawrence. But hadn’t that been Everil’s fault, too?

Everil sat. There was no other choice.

“You’re to be my trial?” he asked. Careful. Calm. It was important, with Nimai, to remain calm. He didn’t appreciate outbursts.

“In a manner of speaking. The bond you’ve forged is real, and even I couldn’t ask Kesk and Veroni to say otherwise. Trust you to make this so much more complicated than it needed to be.”

Nimai shook his head, sadly, then drew a cup of tea from the air and held it out to Everil. The porcelain burned Everil’s fingers as the smell of cinnamon and clove filled the air.

“If they’ll confirm the bond, then I can go.”

“Leave, and you’ve forfeited the trial. The rules stand.” A touch of steel in Nimai’s voice, immediately softened with a smile. “Don’t fret so, my wild horse. I’m here for your sake. It’s not right, that we should be so at odds.”

“The council would have called us anyway.”

“Oh, not that.” Nimai gestured vaguely, dismissing dragging Everil back to Faerie as immaterial. “I mean Lawrence. You hurt me very badly, Everil. And I lost my temper. I took it out on an innocent, and I regret that.”

The cup shook in Everil’s hands. He could still smell it. Lawrence’s blood and rent flesh. “I see.”

“Pettiness doesn’t suit you, my love.” Nimai’s lips pursed in brief disappointment, then he sighed, and gave a rueful shake of his head. “Never mind. You’ve been away for so long. Listen to me, Everil. You know I hate upsetting you. That’s why we’re talking. I feel another such incident would be unpleasant for both of us.”

Bo would bite back, his words profane and defiant and clever. Everil sipped tea that his throat tried to close itself against and said, again, “I see.”

“I don’t think you do. Forgive me for being blunt, but I fear the circumstances require it. You’re not much for subtleties. Everil, some betrayals cannot be borne without reprisal. I will kill Oberon. You know this. You must have known it from the first. What possessed you to put the poor mortal in such danger, I can’t imagine. But you have. And he’ll die for it.”

“Nimai.” The name came out a growl, Everil half out of his chair before Nimai raised his hand .

“Don’t be dramatic. You can’t hurt me, my love. You can’t stop me. He’s in Kesk and Veroni’s territory, and while they granted you hospitality, they make no such concessions to humans. They could kill him now if I liked. Chop him to pieces. Serve him as hors d’oeuvres while we chat.”

Everil froze, still half standing, his breath coming unsteady through gritted teeth. In Kesk and Veroni’s territory, the distance between Everil and Bo was however long the pair wished it to be.

“I swear on Summer, Nimai, if he’s harmed–”

“You’ll throw another tantrum. I’m aware.” Nimai raised delicate fingers to the bridge of his nose. “We can’t keep this up, my love. It’s exhausting. And I have ambitions that have been stymied for a century due to your stubbornness. The council will have an opening soon. A decade at the most. I intend to take it.”

“Then take it. I’m not your only potential bond, Nimai. I never have been. You don’t need me. You don’t have any reason to kill him.”

“No reason? You sully yourself with some disgusting little human, dirty your very soul with him, and I have no reason? You gave me your oath , Everil. I intend to keep you to it.” His voice had gone bright and hard, but he took a breath, and it softened again. “My love, let’s not fight. You don’t want the human killed. I don’t want to upset you. That’s why I’m here. There’s a simple, reasonable solution to all of this.”

“What do you want?” He’d sat down again. His voice was dead level.

“A chance, nothing more. That’s not so much to ask, is it? A chance? Give me a little time. You’ve been away from Faerie for so long. You’ve forgotten all its charms. Take the opportunity to know them again. To know me again.”

“You want me to break my bond with Bo.”

“Always jumping to the most dramatic possibility.” Nimai tsked softly, shaking his head. His smile was beatific. “If that’s what you or he chooses, then yes. I’d be pleased to have my bondmate back. But I said a chance, and I mean a chance. Three years, say? Three years with me. Your Oberon goes back to his world, and if you both want this at the end, I’ll step aside. I’ll give my oath to his safety. I’ll protect him myself if you like.”

Three years was hardly any time at all. Even in his truncated eternity, it would be bearable. A chance to reintegrate into fae society for both his good and Bo’s.

Bo wouldn’t see it that way. Bo would never see it that way.

“Or?” he asked .

“My love, I thought I made that clear. I kill him. I kill him in ways that make what Lawrence suffered seem like mercy. I kill him while you feel every excruciating second of his despair. And then, after, you bond me anyway. Trust me when I say the loss of a bondmate in such a fashion will leave you in no state to deny me. Do you really intend to put me through that? When all I ask of you is three years?”

The room was warm with the glow of a brownie’s pleasure. The air thick with cinnamon. And Nimai was smiling, in that way he had. Only love in his eyes.