“Wow. The aesthetic is strong with this one.” I blinked, trying to figure out if I was scared or simply in awe.
“Damn it. Damn it. No. No. No,” Hekla murmured like she was chanting and hoping sheer will would make this all disappear.
More fae stood beside the female alpha, and others lounged on chairs and chaises made of roots and moss. Some had horns—spindly, short, tall, and jagged. I think they had to hold ruling blood to have the horns. That was my guess anyway. Wings of ivy and vine lay folded behind all the fae’s backs, not hidden by glamours as sometimes Lucus and his brothers had done. Though some of them had moss for hair or eyebrows, their features were sharp and painfully beautiful just as the fae I’d seen in Lucus’s memories, but these didn’t have kind eyes. They pretty much all had resting bitch faces with cold gazes and postures of disdain that spoke of extreme boredom. Viridescent gems and sparkling crystals shone from their ears and fingers, a match to their fancy outfits made of flower petals and oak leaves. A few had leaves sprouting from their palms and twigs for fingertips. Most held golden goblets that seemed to stain their mouths a blood red after they took a lazy sip. The cups had to be the source of that mulled wine scent I’d picked up.
One word came to mind as I looked them over. Decadence.
Lucus bowed at the waist, so I tugged at Hekla, and we mimicked the move.
The blonde daughter spoke to her mother. “This fae suffers under a curse. He and this human arrived through a portal created by their mage.”
I wasn’t a fan of the phrasing; I didn’t belong to anyone. But I bit back my retort because I would trade a little pride for the chance to keep my powers from electrocuting me to death. I needed access to mages more skilled than me, and I needed them yesterday.
The female alpha walked toward us, and it seriously seemed like she was floating. “Arrived by way of a portal, hmm?” She did not seem pleased, more like she was attempting to hide her incredulity. “Welcome to my hill, kin and outlanders. I am called Arleigh.”
Lucus studied the woman, meeting her gaze with a cool look in his green eyes. “I am called Lucus. I have two brothers who are feeding beyond your enchanted pool, beyond your henge. A vampire was in our party as well, but he has flown away. And this,” he said, nodding toward me, “is my fated mate. She requests permission to train with one of the mages who lives among you. Your daughter mentioned the arrangement of mages living alongside you.”
Their names reminded me that I needed to ask Lucus about whether or not Aunt Viv had been right about true names and the fae. She always insisted the fae hid their real names because if someone knew the truth, they gained a sort of power over the fae.
Hekla jerked me close and hissed into my ear, “What did he just say, Coren?”
“Oh, yeah. The fated mate thing.”
“Oh, yeah?” Hekla huffed, eyes popping.
“Later,” I whispered as the fae court scowled at our whispering.
Hekla covered her face with her hands.
The corners of Arleigh’s lips rose. “Fated mate. A mage and a fae. What an incredible rarity. I’ve never once,” her voice grew sharp, “heard of such a destined pairing. I do wonder how things will work out for you.” As Lucus opened his mouth to speak, she waved him to silence with a willowy hand. “My Corliss told you that we have mages here, did she? My dear does enjoy flaunting her knowledge.”
Her words seemed to have multiple meanings, none of which I could grasp. One thing I did know: This lady was shifty as hell.
Corliss glared at her feet, obviously wanting to snap at her mother about something but remaining obedient. I would’ve obeyed too if I’d been in her boots because, damn, her momma was scary.
The red-haired Arleigh approached Lucus, and I tensed, wondering if she was going to chit-chat more or possibly bite his head off. Literally. She grinned, flashing pearly teeth and the edge of a wine-stained tongue. “What is this I hear of a curse? Tell me your story, fellow alpha.”
A shiver traveled down my spine as Lucus went into the details.
He refrained from mentioning that I was the descendant of the Mage Duke. Perhaps because he thought all fae hated the Mage Duke? Or maybe he worried his brothers might be nearby and hear? His brothers still didn’t know, and thank everything they didn’t. I didn’t need any more trouble. But could Baccio and Aurelio have already finished feeding and trailed us through that terrible magical pond?
At the conclusion of Lucus’s lengthy recollection, Arleigh clasped her hands. Her smile was a twisted thing, full of bitterness. “The Mage Duke cursed you. Sforza himself. Some say he still lives, wrapped in that unique magic of his.”
“I assumed as much,” Lucus said gravely.
And here I’d been hoping the asshat was dead.
Arleigh’s antlers cast spindly shadows over her sharp-boned face. “What a fantastic tale,” she said, her lips pulling away from her teeth in something that resembled a snarl. “Trapped with a vampire, and your fated mate is a mage.” Shaking her head, she laughed, a husky and echoing sound in the thick grove of trees. “And now this powerful mage must train to avoid death. Fascinating.” Her smile fell as quickly as it had appeared, and she narrowed her eyes. “Oh, and condolences for the loss of your brother,” she said, referencing Lucus’s mention of the fallen Francesco.
How did she know I was
