How to Keep a Fae (Coveted Fae #1)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

August

I t has been a while since I spoke to my mother and saw my siblings, at least those still at home. Two of my younger brothers are warriors like me, and I cross paths with them from time to time in the warriors’ hall. They seem happy with their lot, as I was before I met Adaline.

Before I realized I wanted something more.

A squeal greets my arrival as two of my youngest sisters run over, demanding I pick them up. With one in each arm and my five-year-old brother clinging to the leg of my pants, I enter the lounge.

My mother has a nice home now, so different from what I remember growing up in the breeder hall, and where our private quarters were small. There was a spacious day room where the breeders and their children spent much of their time. Private quarters were considered a luxury we did not need.

There was a lot of love, but not the strong sense of a family unit I feel now whenever I visit her .

“August!” My mother sweeps over, her long golden hair and bright blue eyes so different from mine. “I swear you look more like your father every day!”

And I do. I’ve met Aurelius enough times to know I am looking at myself years from now.

Many years from now. My birth father’s lifespan can be measured in centuries that do not show on his face. But his eyes, the same golden ones I bear, tell a story that reaches back to the great battle of Sendar.

He was my mother’s first, and still visits on occasion, a point of contention with her human alpha mate. My mother has a dozen children, and only the last two were by my stepfather. Most fathers still visit, where circumstances permit, to see their children. But some fell, as is the risk of a warrior’s life.

My stepfather accepts them with grace—he is on friendly terms with most of them. Only Aurelius, my father, whom I have long recognized my mother to be still in love with, stirs his ire—an impressive feat in one of the most composed men I have met.

“How have you been? Can you stay for tea?” my mother asks.

The children, more of which have appeared from the playroom hearing my arrival, make their demands.

“Stay!”

“Stay, August, please!”

“I can stay,” I say, smiling. I would have a riot on my hands if I tried to leave now.

I take a seat. My mother bustles off, talking about cake and urging the older ones to set the low table and bring things through.

They are good children for the most part—a couple have more than their share of mischief. My longest memories are of my mother’s quiet patience. She loves her children. It is perhaps a blessing that her blood holds no benefits, and she got to embrace the role.

I swallow, thinking of Adaline with our children, of her belly swollen with my seed.

“William woke up!” Sally announces, carrying my youngest brother, who is still a babe, into the room.

My mother does a double take as she returns to the room with a tray. She raises a brow. “Did he really?”

Sally, thirteen and hitting the rebellious stage with gusto, lifts her pert nose. “He did.”

My mother mentioned during my last visit that Sally revealed imperial blood during testing. She will soon begin her training in portal lore. My mother was conflicted by the news. Thrilled for her daughter, but also aware that the elevated status brings danger in the form of quests for the king. Quests that will take Sally outside the safety of Sanctum.

No matter the rank of fae or human, there are compromises. Things we gain and things we lose.

“Sally.” There is a distinct warning in my mother’s voice as she places the tray on the table where cakes and pastries, plates and napkins, already wait.

“Fine, he was asleep. But he looked like he wanted to wake up.”

I fight back a chuckle. Sally, unrepentant, presents William to me.

He waves his chubby arms when I take him and blows bubbles at me. His big blue eyes are all my mother’s. His pink, round ears are all his father’s.

I love all my siblings. And even the ones who are brats. Sally takes the seat beside me and slips her arm through mine. I want to hold onto this innocent version of her, the one before training turns her into an imperial in ways more than blood.

Imperials who do the king’s bidding .

The king, who, in turn, is guided by the whim of the chosen—I shudder, thinking of their pale, ageless skin. Fae live for a long time. The king is near immortal, or so I heard.

The chosen live forever, and we, the fae and human underlings, are no more than a fleeting moment in the wheel that never stops.

“How have you been?” my mother asks, bringing me out of my dark rumination. The children are already enthusiastically diving into the assembled spread while keeping their eyes on me. She takes baby William from me and encourages me to select something from the spread.

“Good,” I say. Last week, I battled orcs. The week before, it was raiders who had harassed a small community south of Sanctum. The week before that, it was a long, uneventful patrol.

The days blend into one another, as do the years.

Until Adaline.

That’s where matters turned tumultuous. A room full of nosey children is not the setting for open discourse on what went down between the three of us—I would not discuss it with my mother even were she alone. Instead, I pick a lighter story in which we vanquished the raiders, leaving a village safe.

The children, some of whom are more shy than others, listen avidly. Then they take turns to show me their finished projects and schoolwork. We fall into easy conversation. I talk of all manner of things to my mother, about myself, and about the children, always skirting away from the feeder fae that is on my mind.

“Have you seen my father?” I find myself asking.

I don’t know why I enquire. We rarely speak, and when we do, he insists on using my full name, Augustine, which has always grated on my nerves.

“No,” my mother says. “Not for a few months. Last I heard, he was traveling to speak with the king of Imperium. But I believe he should be back soon.”

“And your mate?” My stepfather is, at best, cordial with me but more approachable than my birth father.

“Likewise traveling, but it is a short trip and he should be home tomorrow.”

If he were here, I might have been tempted to seek his counsel on the delicate matter weighing me down. Perhaps it is for the best that he is away because something holds me in reserve, and makes me wonder if my birth father would be the better choice.

I’ve been told more than once that I have my father’s ways as well as looks. A high-ranking diplomat, Aurelius is better known for his cool calculation than warmth. Except for those few unguarded moments where I have seen him with my mother, looking at her when she is unaware, then his golden eyes burn.

I have never asked either of them. It would be rude, and possibly painful, if what I suspect is true. She is mated now. What is done is done. And besides, I have seen her with my stepfather often enough to know they share a deep and committed love.

I want this, I realize. A family. A mate. Unorthodox though it is, I would do what my father couldn’t do, and would share my woman, willingly. Jayga is human, and a pushy bastard who talks too much. At times I want to punch him. But I also like him a lot. Life would never be boring with him around.

He loves Adaline.

I do, too.

In this, we are united.

But he is also human and will not live the same lifespan Adaline and I do. Adaline is no imperial. Her blood cannot offer Jayga longevity of life. Would it be cruel to seek more knowing what will come?

Just like my mother’s blood cannot for my stepfather. She chose to mate him, to be with him regardless.

I surmise that the world is cruel and happiness fleeting.

I don’t have answers, only more questions.