Bite Of Winter (Fae's Captive #3)(15)

Vanara grips the arms of her chair. “The way you can help is to allow us to turn you over to the king beyond the mountain.”

“If you want to keep your life, you will never speak in my presence again.” I maintain my hold on the heart of winter while the feral seeks to unleash its fury.

Vanara, eyes wide, turns to Keret, but she doesn’t open her mouth. It’s the only smart choice she’s made. With a disgusted huff, she rises and storms from the room.

Keret blinks slowly, his reptilian shoulders rising in a shrug.

Delantis chuckles. “I knew I wasn’t the only one who’s grown tired of her voice. Thank you, King Gladion.” She rises, her posture bent and her eyes watery. “I’ll show Taylor to the crops, if that’s okay with you. We have some things to discuss.” Without waiting for approval from the council, she hobbles to Taylor, who offers her arm.

“Thank you, child.” The elderly fae takes Taylor’s elbow, and they turn to leave.

I can’t let her out of my sight. Can I?

“You have things to discuss here, my lord.” Delantis pauses. “So I will make this easy for you. I give my oath to the Ancestors that I will not harm your mate or allow anyone else to harm her while she’s with me.” Her fingers glow bright white, the magic so strong within her that it has to escape. When she gives her word, magic ripples through the air between us, sealing the deal.

“Taylor?” I loathe letting go of her hand.

She steps up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be fine. Maybe Delantis can give me some information on the stone, or what I am, or what’s going on, or the two million other questions I have.”

I kiss her forehead, my need to keep her near almost overcoming even Delantis’s oath. But I have to let her go. She must be seen as capable of handling herself … No matter how much I want to hide her away and keep her to myself.

“She’s safe.” Delantis pulls her gently. “I know well what it means to have a mate and feel the bond. But you must trust in her. And I can assure you, if anyone threatens her …” She lets the magic seep from her fingertips until a gryphon forms next to them, its body of white smoke, but its talons of silver. Delantis’s feral fae in corporeal form. How old is she? She pats the gryphon on its eagle head. “We will handle it.” The gryphon blinks, and its lion’s claws click on the stone floor.

“A gryphon?” Taylor’s fingers twitch to pet it, but she keeps her hand at her side.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Delantis smiles.

“As soon as you’re done, meet me back in our rooms.” I let go of Taylor’s hand, even though it feels wrong.

“I will.” She gives me a confident look and leaves the room with Delantis on her arm. The gryphon follows, its tail whipping out the door.

I turn back to the Vundi council, the mix of high and lesser fae eyeing Gareth and me with an apprehension that borders on fear. While I admit I will destroy anyone who threatens my people, I’m not a despot. I see the plight of the Vundi. Though the heart of winter beats in my chest, I am not cold, not ice, not unmoving.

Striding to the table, I sit down, though my attempts to put the council at ease don’t seem to have any effect. Half of them still look ready to bolt.

I lean back and graze the hilt of my sword with one hand. “Before we engage in any hostilities—which is exactly what will happen if you continue with your foolhardy plan of kidnapping my mate—let’s discuss possibilities for peace and cooperation between our peoples. Gareth, you have the floor.”

He clears his throat. “As you know, the winter realm does not have the bounty of the farmlands to the west that supply a great deal of the summer realm. However, we are not without means to assist a neighbor in need, especially one that is … let’s say, underappreciated by Byrn Varyndr, as are the Vundi. Now …”

As Gareth launches into our plan for diplomacy, I monitor my subconscious link to Taylor. For the councilors’ sakes, I hope they don’t intend to double-cross me. Because if I get so much as a hint of fear from Taylor, I will turn this room as red as the plains above.





8





Taylor





“That mate of yours is a real bruiser, isn’t he?” Delantis and I walk slowly down a stone passageway.

“He can be sort of aggressive, I guess you’d say.” I glance at the gryphon. “But I guess most fae have some fight in them.”

She laughs, the sound brittle like fall leaves. “You are correct about that, young one.”

I want to rattle off so many questions, because if anyone here has answers, it’s Delantis. Even Leander seemed taken aback by her age and power.

I clear my throat as we turn a corner. “Can you tell me more about the soulstone I wear?”

“It was mined right here under the Red Plains.” She pauses and turns, eyeing the necklace with affection. “I remember when I birthed it from the same gift of stone that my own jewel was created from.”

“Wow, so you recognize it. How long ago was that?”

She cuts her eyes to the side, the silver flashing in the dim hallway. “Is that a classy way of asking my age?”

“No.” Yes.

“Let’s just say it was quite an age ago.” She smiles and pats my hand. “But I can’t forget the stones. And yours has a peculiar history.”