What Lurks Between the Fates (Of Flesh & Bone, #3)(68)
“I heard rumor you found your mate,” Rheaghan said, the words cautious as he rode at my side.
I nodded my confirmation, turning to look at him in warning. “Your sister has developed an unhealthy obsession with her,” I said.
He swallowed and hung his head in shame. “That is unfortunate,” he said, keeping his voice soft. “Yet even still, I feel I must congratulate you on the mating. To find one’s completion is worth celebrating.” He nodded, his gaze going distant as the rolling hills of Tar Mesa came into view ahead of us.
“Your mate will come someday, Rheaghan,” I said, feeling that within my very being.
His own Fae Mark scrawled up his neck, the red twining flames upon his skin and shifting with shades of orange and yellow mixed in. I understood the impossible wait he must have endured, knowing that while mine had been miserable, his was even longer.
As one of the original gods, he’d been waiting an eternity.
“Or perhaps the primordials decided he did not deserve a mate for his crimes against all of us,” Kahlo said, his reluctant, tenuous alliance with Mab keeping him from outright hostility. The God of Beasts would not have been my first choice for an enemy.
Rheaghan didn’t so much as flinch at the harsh words. “At least I’ve had the decency not to string an innocent woman along in a sham of a marriage for the sake of politics. I do not see your mate anywhere either, Kahlo; so perhaps you’ve been shunned the same as I.”
“Enough,” I warned with a roll of my eyes.
For immortal beings, sometimes the feuds between us felt no better than the tantrums of children. We approached Tar Mesa too slowly for my liking; then the horses would require stabling and care when we finally arrived.
It would be hours yet before I could see for myself that my mate was indeed safe.
When we escaped, I’d keep her locked in the bedroom with me for weeks to make up for the agony of our separation. I’d run my mouth over every injury she’d suffered, until only the pleasure of my touch remained in her mind.
One day.
22
Estrella
Nila prepared me for the next evening as I stood in front of my wardrobe, staring into the mass of fabric and dresses waiting there. I’d never worn pants prior to spending time with the Resistance, and yet I couldn’t help but long for the security they offered. With Mab’s propensity for wielding sex as a weapon, I would have felt moderately better having something to cover myself—particularly after the exposure of the day before and everything that had been plucked, scrubbed, and shaped on my body while she watched.
The gown Nila pulled from the wardrobe was a deep teal, the color of the depths of a cove. It was embroidered with beading, white gems sewn into the fabric in a stunning pattern that accentuated the waist. There were no sleeves. The fabric merely rested against the shoulder in thin straps, leaving the chest open. Another piece of fabric hung about the hanger, a collar of sorts that I had to hope would conceal the iron at my neck.
“The Princess of the Winter Court will not look like a prisoner when we welcome the royals from the other courts,” Nila said, running her fingers over the delicate pieces of fabric that draped down from the collar and would hang over my arms like sleeves.
I stripped off the silk robe I’d dressed in while I dried from my bath, allowing Nila to style my hair as she saw fit. She helped me into the dress, carefully doing her best to avoid touching my iron collar as she clasped the beaded material over the top of it.
I winced as she pulled the laces of my dress tight, pressing my breasts into my chest forcefully until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“I think the collar is less painful,” I wheezed, touching a hand to my chest as I glanced down at the swell that peeked out above the low scoop of the neckline.
“Don’t be dramatic, Princess,” Nila said with a chuckle. She knew as well as I did that it simply wasn’t true, but that didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t breathe.
“You haven’t told me what to expect during the Solstice. I think I should have some idea of what I’m walking into,” I said.
Nila sighed, fluffing the fabric drapery to hang over the top of my shoulders and down my arms. “There will be Seven Events, all culminating in the Tithe,” she said, her voice dropping low as if even in the Court of Shadows, the subject of such was forbidden.
“The Tithe?” I asked, turning to look away from the massive mirror that hung on the wall opposite the windows of my chambers.
“In order to keep the boundary between the court and Tartarus in place, the Fae must pay a sacrifice to the Primordial Ubel in order for him to agree to uphold it,” she explained, staring down at me as she nodded. She dropped to her knees in front of me, placing the heeled shoes upon my feet one by one as I stared down at her.
My emotions were unpredictable on the best of days, but the word sacrifice would always send a flash of panic through me. I’d lost my father to such a notion, and nearly lost my life. If Caldris hadn’t broken through the Veil when he had, I would already be dead. My life given to the power of something that I no longer believed should have continued to exist; something that was always meant to fail so that Fallon and I, or both of us, could end up exactly where we were now.
It all seemed so... pointless in the end.
“What does that have to do with the courts?” I asked as she fiddled with my hair and placed a silver circlet upon my head.