How to Keep a Fae (Coveted Fae #1)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Adaline

N o patrols are due today. We spend the morning deep cleaning our nests, swapping out bedding and cushions from our personal stores with the soiled ones going down to the laundry. I have to be careful to hide my spicy romance book… and the undershirts I stole from Jayga and August while this is done.

I cherish their stolen clothing almost as much as I cherish their names, for both are forbidden. Their names were whispered during the heat of passion when I begged them to share that tiny yet significant piece of themselves.

As for the clothes, it was more of a compulsion on my part.

Jayga had frowned as he searched under the bench like it might have fallen there. Then he stilled for the longest time before smirking and putting his armor on over his naked chest. He whistled to himself as he left the room.

August always places his clothes neatly. He didn’t even look elsewhere and turned to pin me with a penetrating look. Then, his lips curved upward, and I caught a flash of his fangs before he dressed and left without a word.

They are now my most prized possessions, and I sleep with them under my nose or tucked against my chest every night.

After the nests are done, we all head up the winding stairway to the day room. Unlike the dark, windowless undercroft where we nest, the day room has a broad window offering views of the thick forests surrounding Sanctum. A door leads out onto the balcony where we are encouraged to take some fresh air and sunshine, weather permitting. A low seating arrangement edges the circular room, with several tables and chairs in the center for craftwork if we prefer.

It’s cold, and nobody ventures onto the balcony today. But I find my favorite spot near the window where I can feel the weak sun warming my skin through the glass. I’m soon joined by Dede, who swiftly launches into the latest news.

I listen attentively as I embroider a flower onto a new cushion for my nest.

“… And, of course, you know what happened next,” Dede says, her voice a low, conspiring whisper.

I lift my head. “No, what?”

Dede is the source of all quality gossip. The omegas of House Silva hang on her every word. She is also my best friend despite us being as different as night and day.

“They moved her to another house because…” She glances around to ensure no one else is listening, which is ridiculous when she will likely tell everybody anyway. “Mated.”

I gasp. Her dramatic build-up was fully warranted.

I fumble my needle. The thread comes out, and I scramble to retrieve the fine bond needle, lest someone, or me, later stab themselves.

“I don’t know why anyone would want to mate,” she says with a shrug of one delicate shoulder .

Dede loves the life of a feeder, enjoying the attention of many men. With her vibrant red hair and sparkling green eyes, it’s fair to say that Dede is very popular whether a warrior is wounded or not.

I have often wished I could be more like her. But I have always secretly dreamed of more, even before two warriors crashed into my life.

“I thought you’d like to know,” she says, giving an exaggerated wink.

“Dede,” I hiss, glancing around to make sure no one is in hearing distance. “I swore you to secrecy!”

Her slender brows pinch together, and her pert nose raises. “I have told no one. No need to get your silk panties in a twist.” She wiggles her brows. “I’ll let Jayga and August do that for you.”

I snort an unladylike laugh.

It dies on my lips when I notice Denna has lowered her embroidery and is glaring at me. She is subtle about it, and no one has ever made mention, but her cool gaze lingers on me more often than it does the other feeders.

“In all seriousness,” Dede says, drawing my attention back to her. “I would never tell anyone your secret. If it makes you feel better, you’re not the only one with such dreams. I’ve not told you their name, either, have I?”

“No… They do?”

She offers a small nod.

I feel better and somehow worse knowing another omega suffers as I do. In the distant past, it is rumored that all omegas, both imperials and the lower feeders, mated as they desired. The rumors say our blood grew more potent for the mating but that the cost was too high should a mated warrior fall.

“How do you think the feeder came to be mated?” I ask, circling back to her earlier revelation. “Were they… Do you think they got permission, somehow?”

“Best make like you are doing your embroidery,” she whispers. “Mistress shrew is eyeballing us. The last laundry duty punishment ruined my nails for weeks.” She shudders and resolutely flips the page of her book.

I bite my lip to hide my smile and quickly thread the needle again. I’m confident she hasn’t read a word of the tome dedicated to nest design. Her nest is the prettiest I’ve seen. She could likely write a book on the subject, should she be inclined. As for the cushion I’m embroidering, my nest is full already, and so are my stores. I’m not even sure where it will go. But we just have to make ourselves look busy doing something other than gossiping so our house mistress will leave us alone.

“They did not get permission,” she says confidently, flipping another page of her book. “I bedded a warrior only last week who said how the omega was claimed without permission. He wouldn’t give me the details but implied it had something to do with her heat. Maybe they know a way to sneak into the hall of solitude?”

Warmth blooms on my cheeks and a wave of lust slams into me at the thought of Jayga or August tending me through a heat. Of them sneaking into the hall of solitude where we are put during such times. “Do you think it’s true?” I can see some complications, like most feeders having a close friend stay with them during their heat, but I suppose there are ways around that.

She grins and flips another page without even looking at the book.

“Well, that’s the only way to mate an omega, biting them during their heat. Sounds hot, doesn’t it? I admit, I enjoyed the warrior talking about rutting a fertile omega as he was taking me.” She makes like she is fanning herself. “You know I love you well, Adaline. How sweet and innocent you appear, yet how saucy you are underneath. Hiding those scandalous books in your nest… stealing your favored warriors’ clothes…. Making them vie for scraps of your attention… likely bringing them to blows.”

“I do no such thing!” I say aghast. I glance at Denna, relieved to find her inspecting an omega’s needlework. “Well, the coming to blows part, anyway. I don’t think they even know about each other. And even if they did, what is there to know?”

“You think they don’t talk?” She arches one golden eyebrow.

“Why would they?”

“We talk,” she points out. “Maybe they know all about each other… maybe they compare notes on what you like well.”

A little worm of unhappiness settles in the pit of my belly. “I don’t like the thought of them comparing notes.”

“Do they do anything similar? Maybe one of them has found a way to make you come extra hard and has told the other about it.”

“No, nothing,” I say indignantly. “They have very different ways.” But she has sowed a seed of doubt. And there is the fact that they both call me their queen. But more likely, that is just the nonsense males say when they are high on our blood. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I’m quite convinced they don’t know about each other,” I add. “And anyway, nothing can come of it. It would be complicated enough if I were in love with one warrior.”

I begin to stitch.

She flips another page in her book.

“I grew attached to a warrior once,” she says.

My head snaps up and my eyes search hers.

“They moved him to another patrol in a different part of the undercroft. It happens sometimes. I still think about him at low moments when the world is too quiet.”

My lips quiver, and a watery pressure settles behind my eyes. My heart breaks anew for Dede—for us all.

“Would you mate him, that warrior you loved? If you could?”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “I made a fuss once when a mean feeder boasted about how she had been with him. I ripped a chunk of her pretty hair out and gave her a black eye.”

I gasp.

She shrugs. “I regret nothing save it cost me stolen moments with the warrior I loved. I still dream about him. I still pray for the day when he might change patrols again, and our paths cross. Goddess, what I’d give for his hands on me just one more time. I don’t know how it might happen, but if you ever get a chance. Do whatever it takes. Make them claim you. Consequences be damned.”

Her face smoothes out. She smiles, bringing the playful fae back. “Don’t tell anybody what I told you. My reputation is on the line.”

“I won’t,” I say quickly. “You’re my best friend.”

She smirks. “As you are mine… only don’t tell the others that, either. I get a lot of gifts from omegas eager for my counsel.”

Denna is now scolding two young fae feeders for their poor needlework. She is not a complete witch—she has a story of her own.

I also see Dede, my best friend, in a new light. I see the woman beneath the facade she presents. “I’m glad you trusted me,” I say. “It makes me love you even more. How you pick yourself up even though life did not deal you the cards you wished… Do you believe in the Goddess? ”

“Maybe,” she says. “The life of a fae feeder is long. There is still time.” She nods in the direction of our house mistress. “The warrior I bedded, the one with all the good gossip, and who I hope to see again for he was a skilled lover too, mentioned something about Denna’s past.”

I frown. “He did?”

“Apparently the old warrior master, Cecil, had sharp words with a warrior who called her a bitch. Said he should treat Denna with more respect. That she was once mated, and that warrior died. Which was why she became a house mistress and never fed a warrior again. No matter which way you turn, life is not without risks. It’s why she deals so harshly if she finds anyone favoring one warrior over another.”

Mated? My mind goes blank for an extended period of time and my heart slams around behind my ribs.

“Hey?” Dede says. “You’ve gone really pale.”

A knock comes on the door before I can answer. We all watch as Denna strides over to answer it. Her posture stiffens, settling off a prickling of unease. She turns to the room, clapping her hand briskly. “Quickly, back to your nests!”

We abandon books and work, and gathering up our silk skirts lest we trip, we hasten down the spiral stairs back to the undercroft and our nests.

Has something terrible happened that caused the patrol to return early?

Are the men I love well?

I pace my nesting chamber as the passage of boots and voices signal the warriors’ arrival. It is getting harder to behave normally when warriors who are neither August nor Jayga come to me.

I try to steady my pounding heart. I can do this; I can endure anything because the random design of life suggests I shall get my turn with each of them again, and I will live for that precious, stolen moment.

“Adaline!”

The call elevates my already pounding heart rate. I hasten to the doorway, thrusting the covering aside. I want to peer out and see who is coming to my door. But I can’t. I just stand there waiting, frantic with worry and hope.

My eyes land on the small patch of stone flooring just outside my room. A pair of boots enter the space and stop.

My chest freezes. How is it possible to recognize his boots?

My eyes rush upward over leather pants and body armor. He does not look badly wounded, and there are certainly no obvious signs of wounds. My blood rises a little as I sense underlying bruises.

Then my eyes reach his dark mahogany ones. They are usually warm and playful—they are icy, cold, and empty today.

His fury slams into me.

“Are you going to let me in?” Jayga says, tone clipped.

“Of course,” I mumble, stepping back so he can enter.

“What happened? Why are you back early?” I demand, not even caring that he is radiating menace. “Are the warriors… is anyone badly hurt?”

My eyes search his. A tic thumps in his jaw. Usually, he would begin to strip by now and then go and clean up in the shower. Instead, he prowls back and forth in the limited space like a caged beast.

“Worried about him, Adaline?” he sneers.

Him? I shake my head, telling myself I’m reading all this wrong. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re back early. I was just worried, that is all.”

He rounds on me, stepping right up, towering over me.

I quake under his sharp glare, wanting to touch and soothe him, yet understanding that something is very wrong .

“Is it true?” he demands.

I shake my head again. “True? What are you talking about?”

“August.” He bites the word out like a curse.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words emerge as my delicate house of cards collapses before my eyes.

“August,” he repeats. “Does that name ring any bells, my sweet little fae?”

“I—I don’t know,” I hedge. A bell is ringing like a thunderclap inside my head. Instinct tells me that admitting the truth would be a very bad idea.

I swallow nervously.

He takes a big step back and rakes his fingers through his hair. “He’s fucked you, hasn’t he?”

Many warriors take pleasure in my body. They are part of the same patrol and of others who all share the same warrior hall. It stands to reason that I would have lain with August, too. His questioning of me would be unreasonable if I did not sense a wound within him pertaining to his heart.

“Do you like him?” he asks. “Do you love him?”

Something breaks inside me. Jayga is no longer looking at me but staring sightlessly at the door covering as if he wants to thrust it aside and leave.

A part of me will die today if he does.

I think about lying. I think about saying nothing at all. But I have lived too many lies, and they are breaking me in two.

“We cannot form attachments. There is only pain in that pathway.”

Denna was speaking from her own experience—she was talking about herself.

I never paid her warnings any heed, and now it is too late.

My mouth is suddenly dry. I bite hard on my lower lip, hoping the pain might center me. “Yes. ”

With hindsight. It was not the right word to use. But it is the truth.

He’s on me, dragging me into his arms, his fingers spearing my hair before his lips crash over mine. A sob escapes my lips. He swallows it up in hungry kisses that sets me aflame.

“I want to fucking end him,” he growls against my throat. And then, without any preamble, his teeth sink into me.

The sharp sting is followed by euphoria. I melt into his arms as a climax rips through me, so strong I feel like I’m subject to a supernatural storm, quaking uncontrollably as he latches deeply onto my vein and sucks my blood from me.

He hoists me into his arms, still drinking, and takes a stumbled, zig-zag path to my nest. My back hits the soft bedding. His mouth is wrenched from my throat. Breathing heavily, his body caging mine with his fists planted to either side of my face.

Another storm rages inside his dark eyes as he stares down at me.

“I love him,” I whisper, hating the pain tightening his face and knowing this needs to be said. “But I love you, too.”

The growl that erupts from his chest might as well belong to a stranger, and it sparks white-hot desire deep inside my womb.

“I’m going to lose my damn mind,” he mutters. He rocks back, pushes my skirts up, and rips my panties away. His hands shake as he unbuckles his belt and shucks his pants down only as far as he must to free himself.

He lines up and thrusts deep, filling me.

We both groan. I’m soaking wet for him. He could do anything, and I would be ready; I love this man so much. But I also love August. And now he knows… Does August know, too?

He must. Oh, I hate this. I wish I loved only one. It would be so much simpler. But my heart belongs to both of them and there is no fixing that.

He fucks me hard and rough. I love every delicious, brutal thrust.

My fingers score his throat and tear into his hair. I arch my neck to the side, encouraging him to bite.

He does. His teeth pierce me, gifting me the familiar euphoria and a climax so sharp and sweet that tears spring from my eyes.

With my legs spread wide to accommodate him, he roars out his release, pinning me to the nest and filling me with his cum.

Our clothing is still half on and a tangled mess, but I do my best to wrap my arms and legs around him, reveling in the closeness of him inside me, like this, how he was always meant to be.

“I love you, Jayga,” I whisper against his throat before kissing his warm skin.

“My sweet queen,” he says. “Never doubt that I love you too.”