What Lurks Between the Fates (Of Flesh & Bone, #3)(50)
“I don’t need the child to be my blood, just for it to be strong enough to take my place and for it to be at my disposal from a young enough age that I can mold it to my image,” she said, pausing as a gleeful smile transformed her face.
There was only a moment of hesitation before she turned a sly glance my way, making everything inside of me freeze to solid ice beneath the weight of it—the horrid intent washing over me.
“Perhaps I will allow you and Caldris to complete your bond one day. Just imagine it, the child you would bear with the God of the Dead.” She sighed, reveling in the horrified gasp that erupted from me.
Everything in me raged, the revelation angering that monster that lurked within me. She rose up in fury, and ice so cold it burned flooded a path through my veins. I felt it move through me, felt it slowly begin to burn away the remaining traces of venom in a path that stemmed from my center and reached each of my limbs as they thrummed with golden light.
“I have no intention of having children,” I said.
Her words solidified that truth. I would not bring a child into this world, not until Mab and her evils were gone from it.
I held her stare as her nostrils flared and she stared down into my eyes, her malice slithering through me. “And I would sooner burn this world to ash than ever allow you to lay eyes upon any child of mine.”
“We shall see. The Fates work in mysterious ways. You are here for a reason,” she said, abandoning her hold on my elbow to grasp the door handle. “If they want you to have a child, you will have one. No matter what precautions you take to prevent it.”
Unless we didn’t complete our bond.
The thought danced in my head; but doing so was the only chance of freedom. It was our only chance at being whole and one in the way I wanted more than anything. In the way Caldris had dreamed of for centuries.
I couldn’t deny him that.
Mab pulled open the door, revealing a room lit only by a few candles spread throughout the room and the light of the twin moons shining in the window. They were curved into crescents that night, gleaming in the distance. The Court of Shadows was carved into one of the rolling Faerie hills of Tar Mesa, and the valleys between them were filled with white sand that seemed to glow beneath the light of the moons shining above. The other hills were formed out of white rock, pale and gleaming and rounded, but the Fae had carved the symbols of the Primordials into the sides: the stars and the sun, mountains and the ocean, belladonna and skulls. Like a rolling sea of white rock and sand, it was everything light, whereas I’d expected nothing but inky black and shadows.
I’d heard legends of the Fae existing within the hills and mountains in Nothrek before the time of the Veil, but I found it difficult to believe that anyone would knowingly choose to exist in the darkness forever.
“You cannot have shadows without the light,” Mab said, stepping around me to approach the seat at the head of the table.
Sidhe surrounded it, their plates empty as they waited, and their wine goblets full as they sipped and chatted aimlessly. Silence descended the moment they looked up and found Mab staring back at them. The entire room rose to bow or curtsy for the Queen of Air and Darkness as she moved to her seat.
She took it gracefully, glancing around the long, rectangular surface crafted from the finest wood and giving a brief nod. They moved to sit immediately, their gaze snagged on her and stayed planted there.
I had no choice but to take the place at her side, sandwiched between her and Malachi, where he moved in synchronization with her. I glanced around the table, seeking out the bright, shocking blue eyes that would give me any level of comfort in a room surrounded by my enemies.
Caldris was nowhere to be found, and my thoughts immediately went to searching for him down the bond once again. I felt the vaguest sense of him nearby, felt his steady heartbeat, but couldn’t seem to place him beyond the mere fact that he lived. I searched the table for Fallon next, not finding her either as I settled more fully into my chair.
I picked up the metal goblet beside my plate, staring down into the ruby liquid inside and placing it beneath my nose so that I could smell it.
“We’ve discussed this, Little Mouse. Our food cannot trap you here if you are not human,” Mab said, drawing a sip of her own wine.
“I was more concerned with what might be hiding within it,” I said, taking a quick sip of the sweet drink.
The berries and grapes washed over my tongue, that slightly bitter flavor hitting the back of my palate as I braved a second taste. Each swallow went down hard, my body revolting against the potential venom after Mab’s story in the hall.
Two Fae women made their way around the room, depositing food onto the plates in front of us. Tiny white pumpkins filled with some sort of cream-based soup sat upon my plate, a fried meat crumbled across the surface.
“Eat. You’ll need your energy,” Mab commanded ominously, picking up the spoon beside her plate and dipping it into the soup.
I did as ordered; my hunger finally becoming too much for me to resist. I wouldn’t thank her for feeding me, but her tests and prodding and torture had long since begun to take their toll. I couldn’t fight back if I was half-starved.
I raised my spoon, dunking it into the soup cautiously and forcing myself to take a careful bite despite my hunger. Even after all these weeks, the Priestess and Lord Byron’s commands about manners rang in my head. A constant reminder that I would be beaten if I abandoned such formalities in my haste to just eat. I was no stranger to hunger, having become well-familiarized with it in my years spent working in Mistfell.