Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(96)

“The end will come whether you are involved in this story or not, midwife. I believe it will be far more interesting with your intervention.”

“Why is it that all Fae seem to think that their own future is a story?” Sorcha said. “There is no story here! No one will sing of two brothers who destroyed each other!”

“How can you know that for certain?” The king waved a bejeweled hand. “There are stranger stories told to this day. Keep your head up, little midwife. Your journey has only just begun.”

“I want no part in this story.”

“You’re already in it. War is coming. Tell my brother to enjoy his last few days of life.”





Chapter Twelve





THE HUNTER’S MOON





“Where are we going?” Sorcha asked. A blindfold covered her face, the velvet soft against her skin.

Stone had walked into her bedroom with it in his hands, a sheepish grin on his face. He refused to tell her where they were going, but she also refused to stop asking.

“Sorcha, just let it be a surprise.”

“I can’t do that. I want to know.”

“You’ll find out!” he said with a chuckle.

“But not soon enough!”

She didn’t think he knew about her recent escapade into Seelie. He certainly hadn’t mentioned it.

Sorcha had scrubbed her skin for an hour before she saw him. Clean water and lemon verbena washed away the scent of faeries and anything else he might have recognized from home.

Weeks passed. Sorcha took to begging him every night to return to the mainland with her. Sometimes, she thought he might bend. Other times, all she did was anger him.

He grew angry so easily.

But tonight, he was happy. Pleased, almost. The surprise he planned obviously meant something to him.

“Stone,” she begged, “I want to know!”

“And you will, little human. Just not yet.”

Sorcha tried to figure out where they were going. She knew each turn of the castle by heart, but got lost when he spun her in circles.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a laugh. “You’ll make me dizzy!”

“I don’t want you to guess what direction we're going.”

“I wasn’t tracking our steps.”

“You most certainly were. I could hear you mumbling under your breath.” He leaned close, breath tickling her ear and sending shivers down her spine. “I refuse to let you ruin this surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her down the hallways. Each step felt more and more unfamiliar until he finally tugged her to a stop.

His hands were so big. They covered her shoulders and dipped into the hollows of her collarbone. She was intensely aware of the soft circles he drew just beneath the winged bones. He seemed to stroke her skin without thought.

“You have been so kind to my people. And you have made a lasting impression upon all of us. I wanted to do something for you.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t deserve anything special though. I hope you didn’t go out of your way.”

“We only spent a few nights on it.”

“A few nights? Stone!”

“My name is not Stone.”

“I refuse to call you master.”

He chuckled, hands sliding across her shoulders and tangling in the heavy weight of her hair. “Someday, I would like to hear the word cross your lips just to see how unnatural it sounds.”

“You won’t like it if I ever called you master.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I’ve come to expect you to surprise me, Sorcha. It would be a shame for you to fall in line like the rest.”

The knot at the back of her head pulled, and the velvet fell free.

She gasped in delight. The throne room glimmered with light. The ceiling, free from cobwebs and dust, had a mirrored finish that reflected the candlelight. Smooth marble and great swaths of red fabric made the room seem fit for royalty.

Sorcha couldn't care less for the grand appearance of the room. It was the people her eyes locked upon and the sight of them that made her knees weak.

Every faerie on the isle had dressed in their finest. They did not decorate themselves with silk or velvet, but clean clothing and woolen cloaks. Their faces scrubbed clean, they had tied their hair in intricate braids.

They were not a people of royalty. They were not kings and queens, but men and women who lived on the land.

“They look out of place,” she said with a chuckle. “And they are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

“Good. You’ll be seeing a lot of them tonight.”

“Not for me,” Sorcha turned with a worried expression. “You didn’t bring them all together for me, did you Stone?”

He winked. “You have lost your memory coming here, haven’t you Sorcha? As much as I would love to force my people to bend a knee to your beauty, that is not why they are here. It’s Samhain.”

“Already?”

She’d left home in spring, and it was Samhain already? Sorcha felt as though she’d only just washed up on the shore, and now autumn knocked upon the door of the human world.