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Chapter Text

The wind from the Solemn Mountains cut through your armor and layers of wool beneath. You repressed the shudder that threatened to cause the plated armor on your chest and shoulders to rattle, gripping the reins of your horse tighter.

Quick Silver, the darling mare you had raised since she was a filly, stamped one of her feet impatiently as your father swung down from his horse to speak to a guard briefly. The guards bowed, their eyes sliding over you. One of them sneered, and you stiffened as you ignored it. You were used to it by now; the whispers. They had chased you since you were a child.

Half-breed.

A low growl sounded behind your back--ah, Konig. You had nearly forgotten he was there, which was laughable given his size. The wolf shifter was a formidable opponent, incredibly tall and built, his yellow eyes peeking beneath his curtain of a mask daring them to say the words out loud. He was your oldest--only--friend. He'd been stationed alongside your father, as well as yourself, for the past year, though he had been around your house longer than that. He had been orphaned, taken in by your father and trained. There were talks that he would be the next general instead of you, given your...heritage.

Swallowing and straightening your back, you waited until your father gave you the go-ahead. Urging Quick Silver forward, you both passed through the wards surrounding the castle, magic that prevented unwanted visitors from entering the castle grounds. Of course, if you had enough power, the wards would hardly be an issue. But the small amount of earth magic gifted to you by your father's Fae heritage was nothing more than a kernel. "Konig," you said gently, quietly, though his keen wolf hearing would pick up on it. "It's alright."

"No, it is not," he ground out slowly. "And someday, I will make them pay for it."

You sighed, but there was really no use in arguing with him. Konig held a grudge against everyone who had ever slighted you, and you knew that he had not forgotten those names for one moment. He was like--pun aside--a dog with a bone.

After you made it past the gates, Konig easily dismounted his giant horse, handing the reins off to a stable boy. You saw the boy's rounded ears, took in his scent, and your heart squeezed. Another halfling, like yourself. Your kind seemed to always get the lowly jobs, the dismissible ones. You had been lucky your father's thinking was different from the rest of the Fae, deciding that he loved you and would raise you despite your human mother. Then again, he had loved your mother too--fiercely. But Fae births, even half ones, were notoriously difficult, and she had not made it, despite all the healers your father had desperately called.

"Lunelle?" The sound of your name brought your attention back from the pool of memories you found yourself drowning in, blinking as you surfaced to see Konig standing next to you, offering his hand.

Gods, just standing he was nearly as tall as you were mounted on your horse. But you were the general's daughter, and stubborn, so you ignored the hand and swung down yourself. Konig's eyes crinkled a bit underneath his mask in amusement as you also handed your reins over to the stable boy.

"General Travan will meet us in the throne room," Konig said, referring to your father.

"Let's not keep His Majesty waiting," you said with a sigh, placing a hand on the hilt of your sword as you headed forward.

-   -   -

"And lastly, I would like to talk about a marriage proposal for your daughter." The word clanged through you.

Marriage?

The meeting had been the usual, nearly boring you to tears, honestly. The king had not even looked at you, had not acknowledged your existence. Of course not, you were only half Fae. Everyone knew how humans--even those only half--were treated. Compared to your Fae father and his illustrious record, you were surprised the king even remembered you were his daughter.

Your father's eyes, your eyes, right down to the shape and color, flashed with worry, though he was quick to cover it. "Marriage, Your Majesty? May I ask to whom you are wishing my daughter to wed?"

"Oh, yes. As you know, general, our relationship with the Alextre Kingdom has not been the strongest. After long meetings with my advisors, the idea of marriage as a way to tie our kingdoms was brought up. What better way to unite two nations than a marriage?"

Your father and Konig went still in the way that only Fae could.

The king, either unaware or ignoring the tension, continued. He stood from his throne, meandering towards the towering windows surrounding the throne room. "As you know, one of my daughters has already found her mate, and I could not bare to have my youngest so far from me. But the daughter of my general? Why, it would be an honor for your family! She is high ranking enough to satisfy the king as well. As you know those barbarians choose their king by tournament."

Code for I will not marry one of my daughters to the Alextre Kingdom, but your daughter is disposable. Not to mention your half-blood status would be seen as an insult. You wondered if the Alextre king had been informed of your lineage. Likely not. It was an effort to keep your breathing slow and even, to maintain your resting heartbeat.

Konig, who never missed anything when it came to you, moved a fraction closer to you. His presence did help calm you a bit, his woody scent filling your senses.

And what the king had said...that was right. Alextre was a kingdom of warriors. Full of mostly lower Fae as well as various shifters, new kings were decided by tournaments held every ten years. Whoever was left living in the end was crowned. Barbaric, vicious, horrific. The crown was earned by blood. That meant the current king, whoever he was, had also earned his title via that violent, bloody conflict.

Your father's fists tightened behind his back, knuckles turning white. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

Say something, you begged silently. Tell him no.

But no one contradicted the Theodric Fae King.

"It will be as you wish, Your Majesty."

You could nearly hear the sound of the last nail in your coffin.

-   -   -

"I cannot believe--" Konig seethed on the way back to your villa. His entire form shuddered atop his horse. The horse in question neighed, as if protesting. If Konig shifted, the horse would be injured.

"How can your father just--just give you up like that?" he demanded. "He's throwing you to them like a Gods-damned piece of meat in a pool of sharks!"

Your father had other business at the castle and had firmly ordered you and Konig to head home. We will speak later, his clear green eyes said.

"Konig," you said gently, but the large Fae male kept rambling until you repeated yourself, firmer. "Konig."

He stopped, looking at you with his eyes large and glowing yellow. His chest heaved slightly as if he were out of breath.

"I am just as angry as you are. But you acting like this is not helping. When Father comes home, we will talk. He might have a plan. And if not...well, we will make one. Alextre is by all accounts a heathen kingdom, but I am a trained soldier, just like you. I believe that I can make my way out, at the very least."

"But Luney, you are not just like me. You are..." His eyes guttered as he trailed off.

You ground your teeth as you yanked at Quick Silver's reins, bringing yourself closer to Konig. Even with him towering over you, you glared at him. Your kernel of earth magic had vines curling up at your horse's feet. "I'm what, Konig?"

"Luney, you know that's not what I--"

"I'm what? Powerless? Weak? A half-breed? Just because I cannot shift as you do, or I cannot grow an entire mighty forest with a twist of my wrist like Father can does not make me weak. I have lived among the Fae my entire life, and I have survived. If I can do so in Theodric, I can do so in Alextre. I will not have you or my father underestimating me. I can do this."

"I know," Konig's deep voice had softened. "I know, Luney. I am sorry. I am only worried for you."

Just like that, all the fight left your body, leaving you exhausted, as if your journey here had finally caught up. "I know. I am too. But who knows? Maybe the Alextre king is my mate and we will live happily ever after."

Konig stared at you silently. He did not have to voice the words for you to know what he was thinking.

No half-Fae has ever found a mate.

Chapter Text

When your father came home Konig nearly pinned him to one of the walls.

But he had anticipated this, and with a wave of his hand vines studded with thorns had wrapped around Konig's hard frame, pinning his arms to his sides and bringing the tall man to his knees. A low growl rumbled from Konig, the sound more wolf than Fae.

You stood in the entryway to the dining room, now changed out of your armor and into a soft olive gown. You hugged yourself with your arms, unsurprised by the actions of your father or your best friend. When you looked to your father, your eyes were filled with despair.

Your father let out a long, weary sigh. "I understand why you are upset, but I need you to listen to me. Both of you. Alright?"

You nodded, but Konig continued to struggle against the vines. Your father's magic was strong, but Konig's sheer strength was incredibly impressive, even amongst the Fae. Fae had a variety of gifts, ranging from elemental, like your father's earthen magic, to shifting like Konig. Some Fae possessed both, while others had gifts far more deadly, such as the Theodric king's talent with pure, hot sunlight. Konig only possessed shifting magic, but his strength was unnatural.

Your father looked to Konig, then to you with a silent plea in his eyes. You sighed, moving to put a hand on the tall male's shoulder. "Konig. Relax. We need to at least hear him."

As if your scent calmed him, Konig took in a deep breath before he relaxed. As he did so, the vines loosened, sinking back into the earth of your home. Your house was grandiose, but the floors were made of packed dirt, the strong oak beams of living wood so that your father--and you supposed you--could use your magic on them as needed. The house was alive, created to protect you.

All three of you moved to the tea parlor, where one of the servants had already set out tea. Before she could pour the tea, your father waved her away to do it himself. He gave the first cup to you, the teacup warming your hands while the scent comforted you.

Seeing Konig's large hands handle the china was always amusing. He had broken a few during his younger years. when he was still growing and not used to his sudden power and sheer size.

"I am not happy with this either," your father began slowly. "You think I want to send my daughter to Alextre, of all places? But do you think the king would hear me out on this? You know exactly what kind of person His Majesty is. Once he has decided upon something, it is final. I am sorry, Lunelle, but you will be going to Alextre."

You could not help but slump down into your seat. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it felt too final. Too real.

"Now," he continued, dropping a cube of sugar into his tea with delicate golden tongs. "I never would have agreed to this did I not think you could handle yourself. I have raised you as a warrior and a soldier. You can hold your own in a fight, even against a full grown Fae male. You are trained in a dozen different types of weapons, and know how to keep them hidden and within reach. You have been raised around court. I do not know how Alextre works, but you are familiar with how politics work."

You nodded slowly. You were still unhappy, but knowing your father had this much faith in you was assuring.

There were a few beats of silence as your father looked between you and Konig pensively. You frowned, ready to ask the question, but your father opened his mouth again. "I have asked that Konig goes with you as a guard, and that he remains by your side," he finally said.

You paused. You had expected Konig to be allowed to escort you to the border, but if he were to remain with you... Your shoulders sagged in relief.

"I thought the king wanted Konig to be his next general," you admitted. Konig remained silent, but you knew he had thought the same. "He gave permission?"

"Yes. I still have centuries of life left in me, Lune. By the time I step down some other powerful male or female will come along and fill my shoes. Konig is powerful, but all he has is shifting. Other Fae with other talents hungry to prove themselves will be frothing at the mouth for my position. The king knows this. Right now, your safety is more important."

"Thank Gods," Konig breathed silently, and you could not help but agree.

-   -   -

"Everything is all packed up?" your father asked as you tied your moss green traveling cloak around your shoulders, the gold trim dancing in the watery morning sunlight.

"I think so," you said, unable to hide how your voice shook. You refused to meet your father's eyes until he placed a hand under your chin, tilting your face up.

When you saw your father's face, and the moisture turning his eyes glassy, you could no longer stop your own tears from tracking down your cheeks in great big droplets as your chest heaved with sobs. You threw yourself into your father's arms, his earthen scent telling you of nothing but home.

"You will be fine, my moon," he whispered, using his nickname for you from childhood. It made you sob harder. "You are strong, you are powerful. You will not break. You will not belittle yourself. Konig will be with you." His eyes drifted to where the tall male was, readying your horse and his own. "I will admit, I always imagined you would marry Konig. But if he is by your side, I feel at ease."

Your cheeks burned bright red, and you prayed Konig's wolf hearing hadn't been paying attention to the two of you for privacy. "I--Father!"

He chuckled, wiping your tears and checking your cloak again, no better than a mother hen. "A father cannot help but wonder. Now, now. No more tears. We do not want those Alextre barbarians to see you this way. Remember everything I have taught you, and keep your weapons within arms reach. You remember how to send messages with the trees?"

You nodded. "All the roots are connected."

"Good. You carry your mother's heart. Keep it safe." Your father placed a warm kiss on the top of your head, and then he was shuffling you into your carriage.

Konig, watching from behind his mask at the front of your party, watched you with sad eyes. He had a word with your father as well, and as you saw them embrace through the carriage window, you could have sworn there were tears in Konig's eyes, too.

-   -   -

The journey from Theodric to Alextre would be three weeks if the weather remained fair.

You had gone on longer journeys than this on horseback and foot, out to skirmishes along the southern and eastern borders. Alextre was to the west, somewhere you had never ventured to. 

While Konig had reminded you that if you married Alextre's king, you would be queen, you couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably from the princess treatment. Along with Konig and a few of your father's men, other guards had been sent from the palace to accompany you to the border. You had gotten some looks from those guards, but a low snarl from Konig put an end to that. Your father had also picked males you already knew and were used to. They had only ever shown you respect and kindness, and for that you were grateful.

The first day of travel came to a close, and you and your party stopped at an inn for the night. The day had been rather uneventful, but you knew from the many meetings you had sat in on that things would not get dangerous until you were a few days out from the Alextre border, a stretch known for being rife with bandits looking to rob anyone and everyone.

However, you were a trained soldier. You were not frightened of robbers, and had a feeling most of the "criminals" were no more than hungry humans desperate to fill their bellies one way or another.

You fell asleep quickly, efficiently, and by the time Konig was knocking on your door, you were already dressed and packed. You ignored the smirk on his face as you pushed past the solid wall of muscle that he was, but a long arm stopped you from exiting. Stepping back, you looked at him with a question in your eyes.

"You doing alright?"

You sighed. "I'm fine, Konig. I just want this journey done and over with so I know what I am going to be dealing with for the next...however many years."

Konig's yellow eyes searched your face. Once he found whatever he was looking for, he nodded once and took your small hand in his very, very large one. You made a noise of protest. Holding hands was hardly unfamiliar or unwelcome, but you didn't want the king's guards seeing and getting the wrong idea. They already called you awful names, implying that in the war camps you had been...passed around. You did not wish to fuel those rumors.

"You will eat, and then we will head out," Konig informed you, squeezing your hand when you tried to pull away.

You gave in with a sigh, allowing him to lead you to the first floor where the innkeeper's wife and daughter were doling out sweet-smelling porridge and fluffy eggs.

-   -   -

A/N: PLEASE SKIP THIS PART IF MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT OR DRUGGING TRIGGER YOU!!! YOUR SAFETY IS THE MOST IMPORTANT!

About halfway into the journey your party decided to have some drinks at the tavern next to the inn you were staying at. The heady scent of mead filled your nose, making you crinkle it delicately.

Already you were in your room for the night. Konig had your dinner brought to you, a plate of steaming potatoes, carrots, and roasted meat of some sort. It smelled divine. You picked at it as he stood with his arms crossed, blocking nearly the entire doorway that stood between the sitting room and bedroom.

"Did you eat yet?" you asked, impaling a hunk of potato on your fork. It could have used butter, but you knew how expensive that was.

"I will eat after I come back," he said simply.

You frowned. "From where?"

He pushed off the wall. "We got some reports of a band of robbers about an hour down the road. It's probably just hungry humans but...I want to check. Just in case. You will be safe here. You can handle yourself, and the rest of the men are downstairs. They might be a bit drunk, but they should still be capable enough."

"I will be fine." You took a sip of mead Konig had brought you, making a face. "This stuff tastes awful."

Konig chuckled, the sound reverberating in your chest. It made your skin heat--or was it just the alcohol? "You never could handle your liquor. Only thing you ever could drink was that fancy Edelweiss wine your dad makes. Could never understand why you like it. Tastes like you are eating a flower."

"It's a delicate flavor!" you responded indignantly.

The wolf shifter rolled his eyes. "Mm. I am going to head out. I should be back back in a couple of hours. Keep your weapons in arms reach."

You waved him off with another chunk of potato impaled on your fork before biting into it. "Need me to go with?"

"No need. Head to bed early." With that, Konig was out of your room. You always wondered how he managed to be as silent as a cat. Fae were quiet, deadly, but Konig's utter size made him a marvel.

Taking a peek outside, you saw the guards all laughing over frothy mugs of mead, talking about Gods-knew-what. Everything seemed fine, but your senses pricked at the back of your neck, like something was wrong.

Frowning, you did a sweep of your room, but nothing. Sitting back down, you continued to eat, taking another long swig of the disgusting mead. As you set the cup down, you noticed it had quieted down outside.

As you stood to look outside again to investigate, the entire room tilted and began spinning.

Oh no. You struggled to reach for the mug again, doing your best to smell it, to scent it. Nothing. 

Wracking your brain, you ran through every poison you knew before landing on Viktorleaf. Odorless, deadly, but in very small quantities enough to knock a person out.

You knew the antidote, knew how to grow it, if you could just reach the soil...but the moment you moved you stumbled, crashing to the ground.

You heard the door open, footsteps. "She's out," one male hissed.

"Perfect. Everyone hears she's been ruined by Alextre thugs and that will be enough."

Enough for what? you screamed silently, but your limbs were too heavy. Your fingers twitched, but your sword was too far.

"Ko...nig..." you choked out.

-   -   -

Konig had made it to the spot one of the king's guards had informed him was a camp for the band of robbers. There was evidence of a fire, but it was long cold. The scents were all human and at least a few days old.

A sinking feeling in his gut had him shifting to his wolf form in a flash of light, midnight black and the size of his massive horse. He raced back towards the inn as fast as he could, paws clawing into the earth as he urged his body to go faster, faster.

The scene he returned to had his instincts roaring. Half the king's guards and all of your father's were knocked out. A snarl, and Konig was scenting their food, taking a taste. Barely there, but his wolf senses picked up the Victorleaf powder that laced the alcohol.

Voices drifted from your room, and Konig was there in seconds.

His heart almost stopped. You were on the floor, eyes glassy and far away. Above you was one of the king's guards, tearing at your clothes. Your deep brown over dress was ripped down the front, and the guard had began ripping into your undergarments when Konig let out a vicious roar.

The other guards in the room hastily backed up. A few tried to wield their gifts at him, sending bright, hot flame at him, but he charged through, even as the fur on his back was singed. 

Konig clamped his jaws around one guard's neck, quickly turning his massive frame in the small room to finish the other two with swipes of his massive claws.

The room smelled of iron-rich, tangy blood, but Konig ignored it as he shifted to his male form, quickly going to your side. "Luney!" he cried out, lifting you into his arms and holding you close. "Luney, I am so sorry. Please...please..."

A crackling breath left you and Konig leaned down. "What? What is it? You are safe, Lune. I've got you. You are safe."

"S...s...soil," you struggled, eyes glassy but hard.

Konig paused for all of a beat before he understood, hoisting you up into his arms and nearly jumping down the stairs, crouching in the dirt with you. He grabbed your calloused hand, pressing your fingers into the cool, wet soil.

It took a moment, as it always did. Your Fae gifts were small, and the drug hazing your senses made it that much harder. But after a moment a small green plant sprouted from the earth. It took a few moments for it to produce the fruit you urged it to, sagging against the earth with the weight of it. Two fat black berries, ones Konig recognized as usable as an antidote for Viktorleaf.

Konig quickly plucked one of the berries. Traditionally, the leaves would be dried and ground into a tea, with the berries dried as well and made into a powder, then consumed as a tea. But they didn't have time, and Konig could only hope the berry alone would be enough for the small amount of Viktorleaf the mead had been laced with.

"Eat," the shifter begged silently as he pressed the berry to your lips, his fingers staining deep purple. Your supple lips parted, jaw working to chew the fruit.

It was not instant, so Konig remained on the ground with you in his arms, rocking you gently until the fog cleared from your head. You gasped, sucking in a breath, the adrenaline coursing through your blood too late, making you shake and shiver.

"I'm here, I'm here," Konig continued to whisper to you. He continued to gaze down at you until his eyes suddenly widened. He stiffened suddenly, halting his movements.

"W-what's wrong?" you asked, struggling to sit up. Konig didn't even move to help you. "Konig?"

He stared at you for a beat longer before slowly blinking, shaking his head. His eyes lifted up in a smile under his mask, but you didn't see it reach his eyes. "Nothing. You are fine, Luney. That's all that matters."

-   -   -

Some questioning done later revealed that some of the guards had taken it upon themselves to stage an "incident" between yourself and an "Alextre grunt". They wished to present a "ruined" bride to Alextre as much as they wished to give the Theodric king a reason to go war. Spoiling a bride offering was certainly grounds for that.

You frowned deeply as you processed what they meant by "ruined", as if your sexual conquests defined your worth. Many Fae spent their days enjoying the most carnal of pleasures, but there were also very old laws about females of the Fae, laws that dictated females to be the property of their kin, and at the very highest, their king.

You did not wish to know how the Theodric king knew of your sexual conquests--or lack of them. Perhaps he did not care, perhaps all that ever mattered was the public's perception, the official story. Konig was not fully convinced the plan to "ruin" you was only that of the guards, but you knew nothing good would come of that train of thought.

Konig wanted to kill the rest of the guard entirely, growling that they could not be trusted to keep you safe. You had to remind him that you were capable of keeping you safe as much as they were. No one was expecting to be drugged. You convinced him to spare some of the king's guard so he had no reason to be angry at the both of you, or your father, and just barely managed to calm him down.

Plenty of threats were snarled at the remaining males, with Konig sticking even closer to your side, always by your carriage. He even took to sleeping on the floor of whatever inn you stayed at for the night, often shifting into his gigantic black wolf form and sleeping next to the door.

You hated that you had been that vulnerable, and honestly you were hiding just how much the attack had effected you. But you promised to be strong.

Even if a part of you sang at the thought of Konig protecting you, of keeping you close.

Chapter Text

Konig was acting strange.

He was closer to you than ever after the attack, but his mind seemed far away.

You were a few days from the border now, and even though you were allegedly in the most dangerous part of Theodric, there had been no other issues. Perhaps it was the scent Konig was giving off, his protective instincts on high as he snarled at any guard who even dared to glance in your direction.

Konig had taken to either preparing your food himself or sniffing and taste testing everything you had before you ate. It was sweet, but also stifling.

You could hardly say anything though; Fae males had protective instincts that ran to their bones, and Konig was likely worse due to his wolf side.

Today you were camping out in the woods after a sweep had been done. Dinner was rabbit Konig managed to hunt down, along with slightly stale bread, hard cheese, and a watery soup made from a mix of things you had foraged and grown yourself on the mossy earthen floor.

Your father could grow anything he had seen before, but your talents were limited. The earth only let you grow what was suitable for the climate you were in. You could not help but miss the exotic, brightly colored fruits your father would grow, cutting them up while telling you stories about the lands they were from. All you had managed were some mushrooms and skinny carrots.

Konig was staring at the fire, occasionally turning the two poor rabbits he'd impaled on a long branch, mask on despite the heat of the fire. You had seen him without it of course, as had many of your father's men, but he was on guard around the king's men. You were not totally sure why; even if they did not know his face, his scent was distinct. But you never pried, never asked why he started wearing the covering just before he became full-grown.

"What do you think the Alextre kingdom is like? The king? The people? His court?" you finally asked lowly, taking a spoonful of soup and letting it dripple out of the spoon back into the bowl.

Konig blinked, shifting his massive form on the log next to you. "It is a mountainous region. They do not possess much flat land, which makes it hard to grow. They rely on Theodric and neighboring kingdoms for much of their grain supply, but we receive timber and coal from them. There are smaller tribes that live within those mountains, places that are so harsh in winter no others dare tread. As for the king...this one has not been king for so long. The last tournament was seven years ago. This king's name is John, I believe. He defeated the previous king, who held the throne for one hundred and fifty years or so. The kings pick their court. If they ever had nobility, it's long been forgotten."

You set your bowl down, sidling closer to Konig for his warmth. He stiffened, but relaxed after a few moments. "Ten years is short for the Fae," you said thoughtfully. "Why not make it one hundred?"

Konig lifted his shoulders. "I guess if an opportunity to try to kill the king comes along every ten years, there is no need for assassins or the like. Keeps things fresh. Usually kings hold their seat for a few centuries. The last one must have been weak, or the new king incredibly powerful. As for the people...I have heard they are mostly self-governing." He prodded at the fire. "Even your father has not been to Alextre for over three hundred years. He said it was a lawless land, where locals relied on gangs of criminals to protect them, always for a price."

"And how do they treat...people like me? Or humans?" you asked, hating how quiet your voice was as you stared down, the toe of your leather boot nudging around a stone on the ground.

Konig followed your gaze, quiet for a moment. "Of that, I cannot be certain. Slavery used to be common practice, but I have heard rumors of the new king halting the trade. Perhaps he just wants to keep them within Alextre. I suppose we will find out when we get there." Suddenly Konig reached for your hand, sending zaps of electricity and heat through your body. "Lune, no one will treat you poorly. No one will hurt you. I will not let them. Having a human mother does not make you less. If anything, it makes you far better than any Fae, for you have eyes and ears open to the truth of this world. Do not worry."

"I'll try," you conceded, blinking at the fire. "The rabbit's burning."

Konig swore lowly, quick to stand and attempt to save your dinner.

-   -   -

Your tent was pitched a ways from the others. You did it yourself, as you had in the war camps at the border. You rolled out your mat and placed the hard excuse for a pillow at the head, reaching into your pack for the tightly folded wool blanket when the door opened to reveal Konig.

You blinked once at him. "You are not going to fit in here."

He stared at you from beneath his mask. "If I don't shift I'll mostly fit."

"Konig!" you barked in protest as he began to roll out his bed mat next to yours anyway. "Your feet are going to hang out of the door! I thought you packed a tent big enough for you."

"I did," he confirmed with a nod, pulling out his pillow and blanket. "But yours is already pitched."

You sighed, but knew arguing was not going to help. "You could sleep outside the tent," you grumbled.

"At least you won't need a fire," he said, and you supposed he was right. Konig was always warm. "Besides, it smells like rain."

It would also leave him more vulnerable to attack. Of course his hearing would pick up on that far before anyone reached him, but the threat was enough to keep you from demanding he leave. After all, when you were young you slept in the same bed together.

Konig came to your estate when he was just barely starting to grow into himself. You had only been ten or so, small but already full of fire. Your father brought the boy to you, explaining he would be staying with you, and that he had nowhere else to go.

Your father told you to introduce yourself, and you did. When you asked for the boy's name, all you received was a simple "Konig". No family name. Just Konig.

Sometimes you wondered what happened to him, to his family. Your father had simply said they were gone, and the shadows that haunted Konig's eyes kept you from prying. He never brought it up, and you never asked.

The first year was rough. Konig barely spoke, and it was clear he had something to prove from the way he trained. The two of you spared one day, the fight ending in you on the ground, cradling a broken ankle. You were brave, biting back the cry of pain and swallowing your tears. Konig was by your side immediately, apologizing and staring at your leg in panic. Your father had already called for a healer.

That night Konig brought you a steaming up of hot tea, chocolate cake, and stayed beside you all night while you recovered. After that you sometimes crawled into his bed on nights where the sky felt too dark, or you needed someone and had no one else.

Brushing the memories away, you glanced over at Konig. As you predicted, his feet were hanging out of the opening of the tent quite a bit. He still had his mask on, eyes closed and one arm stretched up and behind his head. Your eyes trailed over his arms, the way the position made those hard muscles bulge.

Swallowing, you turned away and blew out the candle that was lighting your movements. Settling into your bed roll, you closed your eyes and attempted to shut your brain off. It didn't work though, and you found yourself glancing over at Konig again, watching his chest rise and fall evenly. You wondered if he was asleep, and shifted.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked, eyes still closed. That answered that question.

You were silent for a moment. "I know I have been brave this whole time, but...I'm scared, Konig."

There was a moment of silence, and then Konig turned his body towards you. You could picture the concerned frown on his face. "There is no need to be scared, Luney. I will be beside you the entire time."

"I know that. It's just...we have no idea what to expect. We are practically going in blind. For all we know the king is just pissed at my father and this is some elaborate way to punish him. Maybe the marriage is a lie. And even if it is real, what of the king? John, you said? He won the tournament, but what if he's old and decrepit? What if he's a troll?" you nearly squeaked.

Konig let out a low chuckle. "A troll? Really, Lune? You are worried your future husband," his voice cracked on the words, "will not be pleasing to the eye?"

You turned red. "It's crossed my mind. I can't help but wonder."

Letting out a sigh, Konig reached over to ruffle your hair. "Everything will be alright. General Travan is well respected enough that even the Theodric Fae King would not dare send his daughter to her doom, even if this is how it feels. The Alextre king may not even have an interest in you. Perhaps he has more than one wife already. There is no use in pondering. You will remain brave, and we will face whatever happens together. Understood?"

Your throat felt tight, but you nodded once. "Understood," you whispered.

"Good. I have told you time and time again, but I am right here, Luney. Nothing will happen to you. I will protect you. Try to get some sleep."

"Okay," you mumbled. "Konig?"

He had already returned to laying on his back, eyes closed again. "Mm?"

"Thank you. For being with me." Your hand blindly reached over, patting around until you found his thick forearm, sliding your fingers down until you found his warm, calloused hand. You slipped your slim fingers through his large ones, giving it a squeeze.

Konig squeezed your hand back. "Of course," he whispered back, and you could have sworn the words were just barely choked out. "Always, Lune. Always."

-   -   -

Being like this, in a small tent next to you, was torture for Konig. He could not sleep no matter what he did, not with you and your honeysuckle-apple scent so close.

He could not stop thinking about seeing you shake and shiver as your body fought through the Viktorleaf, the trauma. Of what he felt when he met your eyes.

Impossible. By all accounts, impossible.

Even if by some fluke, some stroke of luck--or cruelty--why now? He had been by your side for fifteen years. He always felt drawn towards you, but of course he did. You--and your father--became his family.

You were beautiful, yes, that was obvious. So of course he would feel an attraction to you. When you were at the border, both of you fighting for your lives every day, he had hoped. Why couldn't you be his? He could do so much more to protect you.

So why, right before he had to hand you off to the king of Alextre, did the mating bond decide to snap into place?

Konig glanced over at you again, eyes tracing over your hair, splayed against the pillow. The slope of your nose, the lift of your eyelashes against your cheek, the soft pillow of your lips...Gods.

Being your mate would not stop this. The marriage to the Alextre king was a political match. It would not be halted for him, a mere soldier. No one would ever believe him. No half-Fae had ever found their mate, so it was assumed their non-Fae side prevented it.

Or had they? Perhaps Fae thought themselves more, thought that something as sacred as a mating bond was only possible to pure-blooded Fae. Perhaps it was another way to deny them rights, happiness.

His mind was reeling with possibilities.

But under it all, his heart continued beating that same word over and over again.

Mate, mate, mate.

Chapter Text

You were due to arrive at the border today.

From what you heard, the king of Alextre would be there to greet you himself, along with his guard. From there your father and the king's men would head back into Theodric, and you would be left only with Konig in a foreign land.

You wanted nothing more to be on Quick Silver's back right now. You asked Konig, but the answer was a sigh. You understood a carriage would provide more coverage from any last-minute attack on you and your convoy, but at the same time you were a soldier, too. You could handle it.

Konig finally conceded that once you were within half an hour of the border, you could ride Quick Silver. He agreed showing a strong image instead of a coddled half-Fae female would be best. Show them that you could not be messed with, and would not cower to the king.

The entire ride over, Konig stayed close to your carriage, occasionally shifting or riding ahead to check out the path before you. There was no sign of danger though, and it made you nervous. The danger was likely the king of Alextre himself, after all.

You began running your hands over the callouses worn into your battle-trained hands, picking at a bit of dry skin in a bad habit. King John. It sounded ridiculous. Perhaps you were only trading one awful king for another, and this one was to be your husband.

You sighed, pulling out your sword and deciding to polish it again, despite the surface being cleaned to a mirror-shine. But you wiped the blade anyway, also wiping down the hilt, making sure no dust was in the intricately carved bark texture, none in the delicately rendered edelweiss flowers.

Edelweiss. It was not the prettiest flower, with its staggered, oblong white petals and morning star formation. But it was your favorite. Not only did the wine your father made from its fruit taste divine, it represented bravery. It was your mother's favorite flower, and the sword was something your father had made for her, carving the hilt himself.

You sighed softly, running your finger over the flower's petals. Brave. You could be brave, just like your mother. She was a warrior too, after all.

Sheathing the sword, you laid its scabbard across your lap and pulled back the gauzy curtains of the carriage to peek through the windows.

For the past week or so, the landscape had begun to change. No longer were you in the rolling glens of Theodric. In the distance you saw mountains spearing into the sky, some peaks so high the sun or the clouds prevented you from seeing the tops.

The terrain down here though, at the base of the mountains, was mostly green and wet, full of the tallest trees you had ever seen. It was cold, and you could not shake the feeling of being damp even when perfectly dry. Indeed, your hair would not lay smooth, either.

You sighed, feeling restless. "Konig?" you called softly, knowing he would hear you.

A neigh sounded, and then Konig was next to your carriage, eyes full of worry. "Do you need a rest stop?"

"No, I'm alright. Just anxious. I feel like a steer being taken to auction."

Konig's grip on his reins tightened, but he said nothing, so you continued. "I just...I just want the people I love to be happy and safe. My father won't be happy with me so far away, and you're going to be stuck with me in Alextre."

He straightened, staring at you with wide, yellow eyes.

"What?" you asked, frowning.

"You...you love me?" he asked, voice breathless.

"I..." You saw the emotion in his eyes, and something in your own gut was twisting.

Konig leaned in. "I have something to confess to you, Luney. Back at the inn, after everything happened, I felt something."

"Felt what?" you asked, the intensity of his gaze pinning you.

Konig opened his mouth, but a shout from up ahead stopped him. "They're up ahead!"

Konig's gaze went forward, and you forgot everything as you quickly shouted for the carriage to stop so you could swing yourself out of it, heading to Quick Silver to mount her before you were in view of the Alextre convoy.

Konig stared after you.

-   -   -

About twenty minutes later, your convoy reached a bridge that stretched across a roaring river. The river served as a natural border between Theodric and Alextre, fed directly from the mountains and flowing all the way to Theodric's southern border on the western side.

On the other side of the bridge you saw the Alextre convoy, waiting for you. Your heart leapt into your throat, gloved hands tightening on Quick Silver's reins.

From here you could make out a man seated atop a mighty gray horse, the Alextre flag of a hawk circling a mountain on a red background waving behind him, the color stark against the green forest that stretched beyond.

The king was closely guarded by three men, all on foot and standing around him. They varied in height, and your human side dulled your Fae senses enough that you could not make out much more from here.

"The king is in the center?" you asked Konig lowly.

He nodded. "Yes. Reports have said he keeps a tight-knit circle. They act as counsel, guard, whatever he needs. They were trained together. Be careful of the one on his right. I have heard dark things. He has a real name, but most know him as Ghost."

Ghost. The name alone caused a shiver to creep up your spine. But you would not be intimidated. You were the daughter of a mighty general, and you would not be afraid.

"Time to meet my husband," you muttered as you pulled ahead of the rest of the group.

Konig followed you, eyes full of quiet sorrow.

Now that you were close enough, you could make out your future household members. John--the king--appeared to be a bit older. In Fae years that could mean just about anything, but he had a wizened feel that vaguely reminded you of your father. Your stomach rolled. Your husband was your father's age. In Fae years this meant nothing, as they lived for centuries. But your human side recoiled at the thought. The only thing that comforted you was that he was, in fact, not a hideous troll. 

Your attention immediately went to the king's left, where an imposing figure stood. He was tall, though not as tall as Konig. He was broad with muscle, arms crossed to show those hard-earned muscles even more. But...he wore a mask. His entire face was covered, the upper portion covered by an elk skull, horns curling out from either side. You knew why Konig hid his face, but why did this man? This...ghost. It was unnerving.

Thankfully the other two guards were unmasked. The shortest of the three had the sides of his head shaved down in a fashion you had never seen before. His face was shadowed with stubble, and there was no mistaking the smirk on his face, or the mirth in his piercing blue eyes.

The last of the three was a tall but slightly leaner male. His skin was rich brown, his honey eyes glowing in a similar way to Konig's. You wondered if any of these males were shifters, too. You would not be able to scent it, but Konig would. You glanced towards him, but his eyes gave you nothing as he stared down the Alextre king and his companions.

You were in front of the group of men now. The king and his guard wore similar dark leather armors that made them look even bigger somehow. The rest of the guard behind them were in similar, though less elaborate armor, of deep navy and red, the kingdom's colors. It was quite different from Theodric's airy gold and silver.

"Welcome," the shortest male of the group called out, in an accent you had never heard before. "You the lass?"

Taken aback, you stared for a moment. Konig remained silent, and you realized you were the authority here. Straightening on your horse, you opened your mouth, but the king of Alextre beat you to it.

His eyes were wide as he stared at you. "I cannot believe it," he whispered. He dismounted from his horse easily, his companions looking to him in confusion. Ghost protested as the king pushed past them, right up to your horse.

Konig made a move to get in front of you, but you held up a hand, curiosity winning out as you watched the king stop at your side, staring at you with eyes swimming with...what was that? Amazement? There was something softer there, though.

"Your Majesty?" the lean male called out.

"Boys," he said, a grin slowly growing on his lips, "I believe I have found my mate."

A beat of silence. Your eyes grew wide as the shortest male let out a whoop of congratulations.

Konig had gone deathly still as you recoiled from the hand the king held out towards you. "Mate? No. No, that's impossible. I'm...I'm not full-blooded Fae. We can't have mates."

The king's joyous expression faltered. "Who told you that?" he asked.

You thought everyone knew that. You opened your mouth again, but Konig beat you to it. "I'm afraid it's not possible," he confirmed, moving closer to you, the king forced to back up a couple of steps.

"Now, I do not know what rubbish they teach in a place like Theodric, but you do not need to be full-blooded Fae to have a mate," the king said firmly.

"Even then," Konig cut in before you could even process what he was saying, what it meant. "It is impossible. I am her mate. I felt the bond snap into place over a week ago."

Wait.

What?

"And I just felt it snap into place the moment I laid eyes on her, so I'm afraid that makes you a liar," the king growled out, something nonhuman lacing his words. He must be a shifter too, you thought somewhere deep in your brain, past the swirling thoughts and emotions.

Half-Fae do not mate. You had been told that your whole life. Only Fae mated. Though...you had not actually met many half-Fae. You had seen them, in town and at the war camps. But you were generally kept away from them. Humans and half-Fae were barely counted as citizens, so would the nobility even acknowledge any mating claims they made? No, they would be thrown out, just as they always were. Shunned and denied the most basic rights.

So say you could mate. Both of these males were claiming to be yours. Now, a half-Fae mating? Unheard of, but not impossible, you supposed. But two mates? Now that...that was definitely impossible.

A voice pulled you out of your spiraling. "Luney?" Konig called, voice sharp. You blinked at him, and he softened. "You feel it, yes? The bond between us?"

"I..." You felt pulled towards Konig, yes. But that was a given. He was your closest friend, your protector. "Well yes, but...Konig, I don't even know what a mating bond feels like. How can I identify something I didn't even know was possible for me?"

His yellow eyes guttered. The king made a noise in his throat, moving closer to you again. "Do not worry about your wolf. Your name is Lunelle, yes? It seems I have much to tell you. You will understand our bond the closer we are. Now come. We must go home. Get back in your carriage, we have a long journey ahead."

You frowned. You could barely process the past few minutes. Konig...was is possible? Were you feelings for him more than a childhood crush? Or was the king correct? Were you his mate?

Konig was giving you a pleading look, but you ignored him. He said it snapped into place over a week ago, and he was only telling you now? For all you knew he was claiming it to prevent the king from making the same one. Though he had been trying to tell you something earlier, hadn't he?

It was all far too confusing, and you were grateful to climb back in your carriage, drawing the curtains shut. Sitting back on the cushioned bench, you listened as Konig dismissed your guards, the Alextre guard falling around you in their place. You recognized Konig's steady presence outside the carriage, and closed your eyes.

Good thing you had plenty of time to think.

Chapter Text

By the time your party stopped for the night, it was already quite dark.

You stayed in your carriage even during rest stops, not wanting to see anyone or do anything until you could sort out the feelings swirling inside you.

Mate. Mates.

What did that even mean? You heard your father talk about it, heard others talk about it, read a bit about it. Mates were not always the best match possible, you remembered. Something about the more beastly side of the Fae recognizing who would produce the best offspring. The Fae had evolved, but that base instinct had not. You heard of same-sex mating bonds as well, so perhaps it was more about safety than offspring.

Perhaps it meant nothing at all, something the Fae had outgrown but clung to.

You sighed, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. You were not sure you felt the bond--you felt something for Konig, but the Alextre king was a stranger. Would the bond snap into place for you? Would it creep in slowly? None of this was fair.

Maybe there was something wrong with you. The two Fae males mated to you, but perhaps your half-human blood prevented you from feeling it entirely. But the king seemed to imply it was common knowledge that non full-blooded Fae could mate.

Deciding you were done thinking of it for now, you exited your carriage as soon as it stopped.

Konig descended upon you immediately, as did the king, followed by his three...whatever they were. You tensed, and Konig loosened a growl at the males.

They answered with one back, and you wanted to go back in your carriage again. "Gods. Can I go to the bathroom before everyone starts demanding something of me?" you snapped.

Konig flinched like you hit him, and the king's eyes softened. "Of course. I only wanted to ask if you wished to have your tent near mine."

"Ye ken always sleep in his tent too," the short man suggested with a wag of his brows. The lean guard chuckled in response, and even the king grinned. Ghost remained silent. Fitting.

Konig growled again, stepping behind you like a great shadow. "She will be next to me."

You sighed. "Put me wherever you want. I'm going to pee."

Storming off, you relieved yourself, staring at the ground as you returned to the main camp. A few fires were going, and you wondered where they found kindling and wood dry enough in this climate. Perhaps someone in the group had fire abilities, or someone else had water.

The king and his cabal were seated around the fire, with Konig sat nearby, but as far away from them as he could, eyes blazing brighter than coals. You sat next to him, sticking your hands out to warm them by the fire.

The king's men hushed down before you heard him call out. "Lunelle? I realized I never formally introduced myself. My name is John Price. I was born and raised in Alextre, and was convinced by this bunch," he jabbed his thumb at the others, "to challenge the previous king in the last tournament. I won. I haven't been king for long, so I do not mind if you wish to skip the court formalities and use my name."

"And call you John?" you asked, having resigned that you could not sulk forever. You needed to get to know him, to know more about the mating bond he claimed was between you.

"If you would like. There are other titles I would enjoy hearing from your lips, but we will save that for after the wedding."

Your face burned red, and Konig nearly surged from his seat before you placed a hand on his leg to keep him down. He was warm and solid under your hand, the muscles flexing as he sat down once more. "Don't," you hissed.

The shorter male cackled out. "Aye, down boy!"

The king--John's--eyes softened. "Ignore Soap."

"Soap?" you repeated, looking to the male. "Your name is Soap?"

"Nickname, lassie," he said, stretching back. "Name's Johnny. Remember tha' fer later." He winked, and you pressed your lips together.

In the camps, when your father was not around, some of the men did try to make passes at you. Many half-Fae were forced into less than savory positions, and while you had nothing but respect and sympathy for sex workers, getting mistaken as one was not enjoyable.

Konig had broken plenty of bones that night, threatening to break the bones in even more places if any of them sought out a healer.

You decided to just ignore Soap's comments, looking to the lean male beside him. "And you are?"

He flashed a brilliant, beautiful smile at you. It made you pause for a moment. "My name is Kyle Garrick. The boys call me Gaz. I answer to anything, so please use whatever is the easiest, princess."

Princess. Well, until the wedding, that's what you were. Being engaged to John made you Princess the moment the decree had been made. An empty title you would not miss.

Finally your eyes slid to Ghost. Gone was the terrifying elk skull mask. Now his eyes were exposed, as well as pale blonde hair. Now you could see his eyes, the color so gray they were nearly white. "Ghost," he said simply, the deep timbre of his voice surprising you.

You couldn't help but remember Konig's first introduction to you. You glanced at him, and he had tightened his hands into fists on his lap as if he remembered it, too.

"Okay," you said softly, looking back to the Alextre band. "My name is Lunelle Travan. My father is General Padraig Travan. This is..." You glanced at Konig, but he remained silent. "Konig," you said for him, eyes flitting to Ghost for a moment. "Just Konig."

"To new friends," Kyle said from where he sat, lifting his skin of water to you.

"I'll drink ta tha'!" Soap said, knocking his own bladder of water to Kyle's and drinking deep. Or, at least you assumed it was water. The scent was muddled from here.

John approached you, eyes on Konig as he stared the king down. You sighed. Konig was like a feral dog. "Konig," you said sharply. He gave you a look, but stayed still.

The king smiled a bit, holding out another bladder of water. "Here. I am sure you're tired. We hunted a deer down earlier today, and are making a stew. The mountains are quite bountiful if you know where to look for harvest. Soap's not a half-bad cook, either. Come eat with me." You heard the plea in his voice, and saw the one in Konig's eyes.

You swallowed thickly, looking to Konig as you stood. "Thank you. I am feeling a bit hungry."

John offered his hand, but you ignored it as you stood. He took no offense, instead gesturing to his side of the fire.

-   -   -

Konig watched you from the other side of the fire, keen Fae hearing picking up on every single word. He could feel his hackles rising, his instincts roaring at him that that was his mate. His mate, talking to other males.

His mate, next to a male that also claimed her as his mate.

Two mates. First you and Konig had to deal with the possibility that you had both been lied to your entire lives. Now this king was saying he was your mate too?

Konig sighed, slipping a hand into his mask to rub at his face.

What was he supposed to believe anymore?

-   -   -

You felt uncomfortable around these strangers, but had spent enough nights around fires at war camps to be able to hide it.

"Tell us about yourself, Lunelle," Kyle encouraged, handing you a bowl carved from smooth, red-hued wood. The stew inside smelled more appetizing than anything you had eaten for the past two weeks, and you looked once towards Konig, wondering if he wanted to test this for poison, too.

But he had turned into a statue, so you inspected it yourself. But these men were also eating the stew, straight from the iron pot hanging above the fire, so you were sure it was fine. Unless they had built up an immunity to something, but maybe that was the paranoia speaking. What reason would they have to poison you? If they wanted you dead, you would be. Even Konig would have a hard time fighting against the four warriors and the guard they brought.

So you took a bite of the stew, finding it tasted as delicious as it smelled. The food in your belly steeling you, you tried to think of what to say. "I grew up in Theodric with my father. We live just outside the capital. I accompanied my father to court when I was old enough, and to the war camps on the border. But I didn't go to court too often. A lot of the nobility saw me as a disgrace. Since I'm...half human."

You scanned their faces for any reaction to the information. They would have already scented your mixed heritage, but hearing the words out loud would surely elicit a reaction. Except there was none.

"Yes, I have heard and seen how halflings and humans are treated in Theodric," John said thoughtfully.

"And in Alextre?" you choked out. "How...how are my kind treated?"

There was a beat of silence, the males all looking at each other.

"It's not perfect," Kyle admitted. "But it used to be worse! His Majesty has done a lot of work to make things better."

"Like what?" you challenged, looking back to John.

"He ended the slave trade," Soap provided. "Made it illegal. Ye cannae have human slaves no more."

You placed your spoon back in your bowl. "Good. Good. Though I hope you realize that might only breed more hatred for my kind. Resentment. People will see it as something being taken from them. Ending it is not enough, and I guarantee some families are hiding their slaves."

"Watch how you speak to your king," Ghost growled out, surprising you. It was the first time you heard his voice since he introduced himself. It made you jump, but as you met his icy stare you did not back down.

Konig had approached as well, standing at your back.

Ghost's eyes flickered up. "Need your puppy to fight for you, princess?"

"Ghost," Kyle hissed in warning.

"Princess," Konig repeated lowly behind you. "So you do remember her title. And that she outranks you. So how dare you speak to her that way?"

"Yes, Ghost, Lunelle is not only my mate but your future queen. She is allowed to challenge me. I will not have her left out of discussions that involve her," John said firmly, surprising you. Wasn't he, his entire kingdom, supposed to be full of barbarians? They seemed more civilized than the Theodric Fae, if not more sympathetic.

You ignored the bit about being his mate since you were undecided on your feelings towards it. "I will not be queen of a land that sees me as unfit for rights," you said firmly. "Nor will I sit idly while people like me suffer for the crime of existing! I have had to stay quiet all my life, and I will not be silent if it means I can help even one person."

Konig placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a firm squeeze of support. You were still mad at him, but you appreciated it.

John's eyes were dancing. "Spoken like a true queen," he said, voice full of reverence.

"Besides all o' tha'," Soap continued in a drawl, "What else?"

You still felt a bit fired up and shook Konig's hand off. "I was trained as every soldier under my father's command was. I can fight, and I am good at it."

You let the subtle threat hang in the air. Don't mess with me.

You saw the males process the information to, a smirk on Soap's face. "Lassie's got claws."

"And a dozen knives," you added, earning a laugh from everyone but Konig and Ghost.

-   -   -

In the end your tent was pitched not too far from the King's, John claiming it was for your safety. Konig pushed back and well...Konig's tent was snuggled up right next to yours. If anyone tried to enter your tent, he would know.

Overbearing. Overprotective.

You stared at the canvas ceiling of your tent, spotting a smattering of stars through the tall trees in a hole in the top.

Alextre was supposed to be a barbaric, backwards land. Yet everything you had seen of these men suggested the opposite. Maybe past kings had been that way, perhaps many still were that way. But John...he was nothing like you expected. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you remembered him praising you, and groaned, burying your face into your wool blanket.

Any apprehension you had about his age had vanished, apparently. It made him feel more trustworthy, someone you could depend on. That was not a bad thing. Plus age probably meant experience where you had none, and from what you had heard from the whispered giggles of the maids in your household, experience was a very, very good thing.

Oh Gods, were you already thinking about sleeping with him? With Konig right next to you? You could nearly feel his heat from here. You turned your face towards where you knew he was laying, probably still wide awake.

What would...what would it be like with Konig? What kind of lover would he be? Soft, gentle? Would he yield to the more beastly part of himself and ravish you? That didn't sound so bad either, honestly. Konig was so big. His entire body could easily cover yours, pin it down.... Would other parts be big, too? You had heard mixed things about that. Some said it hurt, some said the feeling of being full was heavenly.

You heard a cough from the tent next door and your eyes widened as you realized the scent of your arousal was permeating your tent. Others would be too far to scent it, but Konig, right next to you.

Face burning red, you squeezed your eyes shut and begged your brain to think of anything unpleasant. Etiquette lessons, the steps to the sword practice drills you did every day, your father's kale and sardine pie.

But...if that's what you would get, being John or Konig's mate didn't seem so bad. And if they took you together--

No. Stop. You needed to sleep before the entire camp knew what you were thinking about.

-   -   -

"Sweet dreams, princess?" Soap called out as you stepped out of your tent.

You blinked at him, nodding as you raked your fingers through your hair.

"Ye know, I picked up on an interestin' scent last night," he drawled, smirking at you. "Very sweet dreams, eh?"

Mortified, your face turned a shade of red that marveled the Alextre flags as you turned your face away. How had he scented you that far away?

"Soap, leave her alone," Kyle chided. "Sorry, Lunelle. Soap is not only a bloody wanker, but he has a better-than-average sense of smell. No one's sweet dreams are safe."

You could not speak. You wanted to lay down on the ground and beg the moss to cover you, to make you one of their own.

"I just wanna kno' who the dream was of!" he defended. "Me? The King? Your wee pup?"

"Nothing wee about him," Kyle grumbled as he bumped into Soap on his way over to you. "Come on, time for breakfast."

Konig left his tent a moment later, eyes looking weary. Had he even slept? You frowned, glancing back at him, but Kyle was already dragging you along.

Breakfast was more stew, but it was so delicious you couldn't complain. You brought a bowl to Konig, sitting next to him and beginning to eat. "You scented it too, huh?" you asked lowly, unable to meet his eyes.

He paused before slowly reaching for the spoon. "Yes," he confirmed. "It's natural, Luney, nothing I would tease you for."

"I was thinking of you," you admitted, unsure of where your sudden bravery came from. Perhaps it was the knowledge you would soon be married to John. Maybe you wanted some sort of hint if it was part of the mating bond, or just your own attraction. Maybe you were finally finished dancing around your attraction to the shifter.

Konig was staring at you, eyes blazing yellow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I thought about John too, though."

That doused the heat a bit as he looked down at his bowl. "You think it's the mating bond?"

He knew you far too well. "I don't know," you sighed. "I just...I wanted to ask. Have you ever thought of me...like that?" You refused to look up, refused to see any rejection you might see there. There was no way Konig--gorgeous, big Konig--would have ever thought of you in any way other than a little sister.

But you felt rough hands on your chin, and Konig was tilting your face towards him, eyes intense. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, Luney. Many times. I cannot say if it's the mating bond or not, but...even before I felt the bond, I thought of it."

You felt breathless, like you couldn't get enough air and you were far too hot. "I want it to be you," you breathed out. "Konig, I want you to be my first."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"My first time having...sex," you clarified. "I don't want it to be with some foreign king I barely know. I want it to be you. Before I'm married, I want it to be you. I trust you."

His fingers tightened on your chin. "Gladly."

Chapter Text

"I'm a virgin."

You were about a day out from your new home in Alextre. You were in a town, staying in an inn that had been vacated fully to accommodate your party.

And here you were, standing in John's room. He was sitting at a table with a cup of something sweet-smelling, likely wine or some other liquor. Soap, Ghost, and Kyle had been in the room as well, but once you asked to talk to him in private, he was quick to dismiss them and cast a silencing charm around the room. You still wondered what types of Fae gifts he--all of them--had.

John blinked at the statement, slowly turning to face you. His legs spread wide, the strong muscles of his thighs flexing. One of his hands rested on his thigh, and you marked the action, swallowing.

"You worry about the consummation of our wedding?" he guessed, swirling the wine. "I do not mind that you are a virgin."

You squeezed your eyes shut. You had talked to Konig about this. He told you it was a bad idea to ask, that if John really was your mate, he would go berserk at the thought of you sleeping with another male. But John so far proved to be a kind, reasonable male, and you did not want to hide this from him. Neither you nor Konig had the ability to create silencing wards like this, and there would be nowhere safe once you reached the castle, nowhere out of reach.

"It's...it's not that. I...my first time, I want it to be with...Konig." You dared open your eyes, waiting to see the anger, the violence twist John's expression. You knew how Fae males could get, how possessive they could be. Especially if John believed he had a claim on you. Asking alone was a huge risk. It was possible you had miscalculated, and he would go on a rampage to hunt Konig down, so you just waited for the pot to boil over but...

It never did. He remained pensive, slowly nodding. "You trust him," he acknowledged. "And you do not know me well yet. I can hardly blame you." He took another long drink of wine before sighing. "Alright. Then you may have your first time with your pup."

You didn't like that he also referred to Konig as "pup", but Konig hadn't exactly made any effort to get any of the Alextre convoy to like him. But was he really giving you permission?

"You're not...angry?" you asked.

"I am hardly happy," he admitted with a shrug of one shoulder. "You are my mate, whether you want to accept that right now or not. But Konig believes you are his mate as much as I believe you to be mine. If I were in his position, or yours, denying you this would be a cruelty I have no interest in committing. You have your first time with him, and you will be more comfortable when we are wed. Makes sense to me. After all, in the end it will be my bed you crawl into at night."

John slowly rose, approaching you. Staring at him, you backed up one step at a time until you hit a wall. You jerked, staring at him as he placed one arm on the wall above your head, leaning in. His breath fanned your lips, smelling of ripened berries and alcohol. "You have your romp with the pup, and the night of our wedding, I want you to show me exactly what he taught you." He smirked as he marked the way your face, your ears heated. "We clear, soldier?"

"Yes, sir," you blurted out, the response programmed into you since before you could hold a sword.

"Good girl," he said, pressing a soft but firm kiss to your cheek. The praise only turned you a darker shade of red, making him chuckle. "You liked that, yes? Noted. When we get back to the castle, inform me of which day you want. I will make sure your room is silence charmed, and that no one disturbs you. But know I will be thinking of you, imagining the sorts of sweet sounds you make, the entire time. And looking forward to hearing them myself."

You could not manage words right now, so you nodded.

"Good. Anything else?"

You shook your head in a jerky motion, and he chuckled again. "Then go get some rest. We arrive in the capital tomorrow."

You slipped out of his room as fast as you could, pausing on the staircase for a moment to calm your heartbeat before you sought out Konig to tell him the news.

-   -   -

"You smell like him," Konig grumbled as soon as you came into view.

You blinked, lifting your tunic up to sniff at it. Your Fae senses were dull, but strong enough to pick up on the scent of John that was certainly clinging to you now. Pine and something spicy like clove.

"He didn't hurt you," Konig observed, running his yellow eyes up and down your frame. "What did he say?"

You grunted, shaking off his mother hen energy. "He agreed."

Konig blinked. Once. Twice. "He did? There is no...catch? No trap?"

"No, I don't think so." You sighed as you plopped down onto his bed, wishing you had been granted more of the Fae grace than you had. Fae could manage hopping around in a potato sack look graceful. "He...he seemed to think it was a good idea for me to have my first time with someone I trust. Before...before I wed him."

The words made Konig growl, but he quieted when you gave him a look. He sat next to you, the bed sinking under his weight. "I will admit John is a far more reasonable male than I was lead to believe. It feels like waiting for the rug to be pulled from beneath us."

"The rug might be his companions," you suggested with a shrug. "John is a respectable male it seems, but the others....I can't be sure. Kyle seems alright. Soap is...a bit annoying, so far. And Ghost...I can't get any read on him. Have you picked up anything?"

Konig shook his head reluctantly, pushing off from the bed to pace. He was so tall he nearly hit the ceiling. "No. He keeps everything under control. I have not scented any emotion on him, have not picked up on anything, actually."

Fingers playing with the soft fur throw beneath you, you frowned. "Do you have any idea what his abilities are? John can cast silencing charms, but with his position, that makes sense. He could not have become king if he were not powerful. The others I have seen nothing from."

Konig nodded. "Soap smells like a hyena shifter. Hard to miss. Kyle is a shifter as well, some sort of big cat. Jaguar or puma. John also appears to be a large cat. It's quite common for the Fae who dwell in the mountains of Alextre. He could be a mountain lion. As for Ghost..." He shook his head slowly. "I haven't the slightest idea. I also cannot detect any other gifts they have beyond the shift."

"So they're a mystery. I guess for now all we can do is observe, right? And take this one victory. John said to name the day, once we're at the castle."

Konig moved before you, kneeling. He took your hands in his, engulfing them entirely. "I will get us out of here, Luney. At your word I would battle the Gods themselves to keep you safe."

You felt breathless, lifting one hand to touch his cheek through his mask. You still did not know if Konig was your mate, but...he was a good male. There was a reason you had a crush on him when you were young--though if you were being honest, it never fully went away. "I know," you whispered. "I know."

-   -   -

The Alextre castle was not what you expected.

The castle in Theodric was a marvel of white marble and stone, with huge windows everywhere you went, along with mirrors to keep the castle well-lit at all times to complement the king's power. Decorations were made in shining gold and silver silks, with statues of past kings and queens littering the hall. Even the paintings and tapestries that adorned the walls were light and airy, all the colors washed out and pale.

Alextre was the opposite. The castle was constructed of dark gray stone and rich brown wood. You guessed the wood came from the tall trees that had been surrounding you the entire journey, red-hued and incredibly hard.

The castle was tucked between mountains, with a river running behind the castle, fog lazily drifting up from it in the chill of late fall. There was no grand stone wall surrounding the castle, no moat. Only wards that shimmered as you all passed through them, the magic creating pressure on your ears for a moment before popping.

The foyer was grand, though not nearly as large as Theodric's. A fire blazed in an imposing fireplace at one wall, warming the space perfectly. The hearth was decorated with boughs of pine dotted with pinecones. Great red banners hung above the modest square windows, the floor adorned with intricately woven rugs in red, green, and cream.

Overall it was incredibly...cozy. The touches of nature made you feel a bit more at home, fingertips tingling as your magic urged to touch, to grow.

"Welcome home, princess," Kyle said magnanimously as he passed you, a grin lighting up his pretty face.

"Alright, boys. Take a rest for today," John called as he handed off his overcoat to a servant, a plain human girl dressed in a simple dark red dress. You frowned, watching her leave. John marked your gaze, tilting his head. "She gets paid a salary," he said to you. "All of my staff do. I told you I got rid of slavery, and it was no lie."

After everything you had seen in Theodric and at the borders, you had a hard time believing that still. But you nodded stiffly.

"Good. Now, I have business to take care of. Soap will show you to your room and...Kyle, show Konig to his, would you?" John nodded to the two males. "Ghost, you will accompany me for the moment. I will see you all at dinner."

Warily, you glanced over at the shortest of the males, who was already grinning at you. Well, you supposed if he were paired with Konig, it would not end well. At least Kyle could hold himself back from mocking your guard and calling him "pup".

"I'll see you later," you said to Konig, giving his hand a squeeze. He nodded, eyes trained on the hyena shifter.

"Alrigh' lovebirds, time ta go yer own weys," he said, butting in between the two of you to take your arm in his. Konig stiffened, but you shook your head. You would be fine.

Soap smirked at Konig before leading you through the castle to a large staircase. The banister was wrapped in more pine, and as your hand reached out to touch it, the needles lifted, seeking your touch. It comforted you, helping you relax.

"His Majesty set up the room nice an' pretty for ya, lass," Soap said as you turned into the east wing. "Right next to his!"

You supposed that was expected. You were mostly glad you had been given your own room instead of being thrown into his bed from the start.

Eventually you came upon a set of double doors, carved with all sorts of trees and flowers. There was no color, but your hands found the texture of a familiar flower immediately. "Lavender," you breathed.

"Aye," the shifter confirmed, "'Bout a day's journey from here, we 'ave a beautiful lavender field. Blooms in tha summer. Tha king'll take ya." He smiled, pushing the doors open and revealing your room.

Decorations similar to the rest of the castle adorned the windows, though the colors were different in here. Instead of reds, deep greens hung from the windows, sweeping onto the floor. Paintings of lush forests decorated the walls, the tables and stands along the walls also sporting pots of flora. You assumed these were seasonal, all of the rich pine and red-ripe berries. A fire blazed, a large plush chair with a woven throw draped over it, the chair sitting atop a tawny fur rug.

Your bed was clearly the main affair here, four-poster and canopied in rich green that was tied to the posts in gold chords. On the bed were fluffy pillows in silk brown and green, matching the green duvet and fur blanket atop it.

"Ye like it?" Soap asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You could barely manage a nod, taken aback by how welcoming this space felt. It was not your childhood bedroom in Theodric, but...it was better than the cold, gray stone affair you had imagined.

"Well, yer clothes an' things should be brought up soon," he said brightly. "If ye need anythin' just holler. Rest up, princess." Soap winked at you, then left you to your own devices.

You pulled off your dirty riding boots, wincing as they left marks on the rug beneath you before you sank onto the bed gratefully.

You shut your eyes, and did not wake until dinner.

-   -   -

Dinner was divine. 

Buttered carrots and potatoes in colors you had never even knew existed, a cream stew full of mushroom and truffle, and elk that had been cooked down in red wine and something rich and sweet, like maple syrup.

Ghost was not at the table. Konig was, but he merely stood in a corner. He had informed the servants the moment he arrived that he would be taking his meals in his room, and had eaten before you even woke up from your nap.

"How does the food compare to Theodric?" Kyle asked, smiling at you from across the table. John was at the head, with you seated on his right (a position you were sure was rightfully Ghost's), and Soap on his left. Kyle was seated next to Soap, so you supposed that sorted out their ranking.

"Food at my father's was delicious," you said. "We grew all of our vegetables, and father would grow things from all these lands he had been to before. But the court events..." You grimaced. "The food was more of a way to show off than to feed its guests. The more elaborate, the more visually stunning, the paler, the better."

"They take their color scheme very seriously, I see," John said with mirth dancing in his eyes. "Well...things around here used to be much less civilized as well. Dinners were an open-door policy. The previous king," he gritted out the word, "enjoyed watching people's drunken brawls while he gorged himself on food he stole from the local farmers."

You frowned at that. It was hardly that long ago, either. "And now...?" you asked cautiously.

John smiled a close-lipped smile. "I pay for the produce we receive, when it is not grown on these lands. This castle was full of pillaged treasure I believed had no use anymore. There is rarely anyone left to claim them, so I trade them for the food. Though with you here, Lunelle, I have a feeling we will have no need to trade anything in for produce."

Your ears burned, and Konig shifted behind you. "I...my Fae gifts are not very strong," you admitted shamefully. "I can grow things, but...it is limited to the environment. And sometimes it doesn't work very well. A carrot, for example, I can grow a few. But sometimes they're a bit scrawny."

"I think a few of us could do with some scrawny carrots," Kyle said lightly with a pointed look to Soap, who was heaping a third serving of stewed elk onto his plate.

"What's tha' supposed to mean?" he asked indignantly.

You laughed. The sound surprised you. You had never thought that you would be able to laugh in Alextre. You only hoped that the rug would stay beneath your feet.

-   -   -

After about a week of settling into a very comfortable routine of waking up, eating, exploring the castle, its grounds, or sparring with Konig, you decided it was time.

The date for the wedding had been set, and was to be held in only a couple of weeks, once preparations were finished. Those preparations were already underway, with deliveries being made to the castle every day.

You were due for your first dress fitting in two days, and everything was starting to feel frighteningly real. You wished your father could be here for the wedding, but knew the Theodric king was unlikely to to allow such a thing.

But before your wedding, before that first night with John...you had your night with Konig.

It was frighteningly simple. You knocked on the door that connected your room to John's, discovered behind a woven tapestry. You asked once more if it was truly okay, and John was sweet in how he reassured you that it was. He promised to cast a silencing charm around your room, wishing to speak to Konig beforehand.

You didn't exactly love the idea of him talking to Konig, as if you were an object being passed back and forth between them, but if he was allowing the both of you to do this...you could live with it.

-   -   -

Konig entered your room through the connecting door to John's room. You had to hold yourself back from pressing your ear to that door to hear their conversation, but nerves kept you pinned to your bed.

You were incredibly nervous. After rifling through the chests of clothes brought from your home, you found a smaller box containing all sorts of silky, lacy underthings. Your face heated, sure it was your childhood nursemaid who had packed them for you. It sent a wave of longing for her, the wood nymph a constant presence in your life, helping your father with all the talks young ladies needed when they came of age.

You had chosen a set of those silky and lacy underthings, a negligee of soft, baby pink edged with periwinkle lace. The matching underwear were a matching baby pink, though they were mostly comprised of the periwinkle lace, running straight between your legs and up your rear. You wondered how anyone could find the garment comfortable, but it did put your supple rear on display, peeking out from the bottom of the negligee.

Fingers fisting into the furs beneath you, you watched Konig's large form step into the room, your heart in your throat.

Konig was dressed casually, in soft brown trousers, a black shirt, and soft leather boots. He had his mask on, and all you could see were his yellow eyes widen in surprise as he took you in before they narrowed in desire.

A sudden pressure filled the room before settling, and you knew John had cast the charm for the both of you.

Swallowing, you stared at Konig and patted the bed next to you. "Sit down?"

Konig was very deliberate as he pulled his boots off one by one before sinking down on the bed next to you, eyes trailing up and down your form appreciatively.

"Do you like it?" you asked softly. hands shaking as you reached for the lacy edge of the negligee to pull it up a fraction to reveal the matching panties underneath.

Konig made a rumbling noise as he reached for your hand, snatching your wrist and stopping you. "Gods, Luney," he groaned out. "Let me. Let me do it."

He laid you back down on the bed, eyes running from your toned, legs, up your abdomen, pausing on the mounds of your breasts before continuing to your face, where his gaze softened. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on," he whispered before reaching for his mask and tugging it off.

Your breath caught. You had not seen him without it in a few months now, not since you were in the war camps.

Konig's beauty was rough, wild. His dark brown hair was longer since the last time you had seen it, curling down around his ears and nearly falling into those piercing citrine eyes. His jaw was strong, square, and covered in a layer of stubble.

His mouth was full, lips parted as he drew in heavy breaths. His nostrils flared lightly as he scented you, lips pulling back to bare his teeth slightly as he leaned in to bury his face into your neck, where your scent was the strongest.

You reached for him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, drawing him in.

Konig's lips nuzzled at your neck, making you gasp at the sensation. Everything was so new, your body buzzing.

"Beautiful, beautiful, Luney," he murmured. "Mein Mond," he growled out, making you shiver. Konig was not originally from Theodric, you knew that. Yet you rarely heard him speak his mother tongue like this. It made your toes curl, your back arching.

"Konig," you whined, "kiss me."

He was quick to grant your wish, lifting his massive body to hover over yours and connect your lips.

This was not your first kiss--no, that had been over a year ago, at the camps. It was some eagle shifter, a young Fae male with a handsome, lopsided grin. He was nothing compared to the way Konig moved his lips against yours, the both of you quickly finding a rhythm. He coaxed your lips apart, sweeping his tongue in and over yours, making you mewl.

Konig answered with a grunt of his own, one of his massive hands cupping your cheek and sliding down to your neck, then lower. Lower, lower, down your side where his thumb brushed the curve of your breast. You pushed into his touch, and Konig was quick to oblige. His large palm easily enveloped one of your breasts, despite you being quite gifted in your chest, rear, and thighs.

"I love these," he murmured into your mouth, squeezing your breast for emphasis before nipping at your lower lip. You fisted one hand into his hair, gazing up at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips. Konig's eyes nearly rolled back at the sight. That was his mate underneath him, already looking thoroughly and beautifully dazed beneath him.

Konig gathered your wrists into one hand, pinning them above your head. He loomed above you, eyes luminous in the semi-dark, the fire in the corner casting all of his lovely features into harsh shadow. His other hand landed on your hip, fisting your gown and bunching it up. He pulled it up, up, until he had a full view of your naked torso. You shuddered under his gaze, nipples pebbling despite the warmth of the room.

The wolf shifter sighed out before leaning down and claiming one of your hardened buds in his mouth, tongue soft and exploratory first before he became more rough, nipping at biting at the sensitive flesh before moving to your other breast and devouring it as well.

Breathless noises had begun slipping from your mouth against your will, filling the room with the sound of your mixed breaths and mewls of pleasure.

"Luney, Luney, Luney," he chanted like a prayer as he moved his massive body down.

You made a noise of complaint, twisting your wrists. Konig immediately released you, a look of worry flashing across his features. "Not fair if I'm the only one naked," you explained, reaching for him. "Want you naked, too."

Konig grinned, all cocky male, before allowing you to grab at his shirt and tug. The sight of Konig, of those beautifully rendered muscles, was enough to leave you  breathless. Konig was absolutely massive. His chest had to be as big as yours, his shoulders broad and chorded with thick muscle. Dark hair covered the upper part of his chest, as well as his arms.

Scars littered his skin as well. You knew the story of most of them, but a few remained a mystery. Your fingers brushed over the silver-white lines, and Konig's eyes slipped shut as he shuddered beneath your touch.

But he came back to himself, and continued down, down until he was kneeling on the floor at the foot of your bed. Konig's arms hooked around your hips, yanking you down. You yelped, face burning red as he spread your legs open to him.

The silk of your panties was already dark with your arousal, and Konig growled. He looked up at you through his curtain of lashes as he reached one large hand to the lacy band of your underwear. A claw appeared at one of his fingertips, and with a curl of that finger the band of the panties was torn. You made a noise of protest. "I wanted to wear those again!"

"I will buy you more," he promised darkly, arms wrapping around your thighs in a grip that threatened to bruise. He glanced up at you one more time before leaning in and sliding his tongue flat over your sex.

A gasp left you, the sensation entirely new. You had...pleasured yourself before, of course. But only ever with your fingers. This was entirely new territory as Konig pressed his tongue against you, tracing shapes over your folds but always coming back to that bundle of nerves that sent stars dancing behind your eyelids.

You flailed, desperately searching for something to grab as you felt your body threaten to float away. They settled in Konig's hair, burying into his soft hair, the curls wrapping around your fingers.

Konig sucked at your clit, making your hips jerk in shock. You keened as your hips rolled against your will, searching more of that pleasure. Konig made a noise of approval, alternating sucking at your clit and lapping at it and your folds. One of his hands released its grip on your thighs to move between them, one of his large fingers poised at your entrance.

The initial intrusion was strange, but not unwelcome. You were turned on enough that your body provided plenty of lube, and you had slipped enough fingers inside of yourself that this was still familiar. He thrust the digit into you a few more times before slowly prodding a second digit in. You gasped, but Konig went oh-so-slow as he stretched your walls, taking your clit into his mouth again so that the slight pain didn't even register.

You knew this was needed--Konig was physically huge, and if the hardness you felt pressing against you earlier was anything to go off of, he was massive.

Konig pressed his fingers in all the way, thrusting them in and curling them, searching for something until--oh. You let out a bark of pleasure, hips bucking up.

"There you are," he murmured, voice velvet and midnight as he grinned against you. His eyes lifted to yours, curling into that spot again as he slowly licked a path up your sex. The sight alone was nearly enough to undo you.

"Feel good, mein Mond?" he asked roughly, pressing against that spot again and nipping at your clit. Your answering moan was enough for him as he continued to abuse the spot and your clit until you felt a wave of pleasure building up, readying to crest.

"Konig, I--I--" you stuttered out, barely able to form coherent thought.

"I know," he murmured back. "That's it. Cum for me, beautiful. Cum all over my fingers. Come on Luney, cum."

The command was all you needed, your body cresting. Your vision spotted as pleasure greater than anything you had ever felt crashed into you. You gasped, voice coming out louder than you expected. Your hips spasmed and jerked as the pleasure began to wane, though Konig was hardly done. He continued thrusting into you, taking advantage of your hazed-out mind to add a third finger to you. You whined, but found that your body was so relaxed the stretch was not too bad.

"Good. Good girl, Lune."

"Want to touch you," you gasped out, hips still jerking and riding his fingers. "Please, Konig."

The shifter grinned, entirely lupine as he lifted himself back onto the bed. He pulled his fingers from you slowly, eyes trained on you as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. Chuckling at your wide-eyed expression, he laid down on the bed and stretched one arm behind his head. "Go on, beautiful."

Now determined to make him feel even a fraction of what you did, you moved to his pants, untying them at the waist and tugging them off. Already the outline of his massive cock was apparent, straining against his pants. You pulled him from his undergarments, wrapping a hand around him. Konig was hot and heavy in your hand, and incredibly hard.

Curiously, you pumped your hand once, sweeping your thumb over the head of his cock where a bead of moisture gathered. The action alone made Konig grunt, hips twitching. You smiled, feeling more confident as you repeated the action. He sighed out, so you leaned down and kept your eyes on his face as you slowly swept your tongue over the head. Konig groaned lowly, eyes positively glowing now.

You knew there was no way you would be able to fit him into your mouth, but you could work around it. Your lips wrapped around the mushroom tip, tongue sliding along the underside of the head. His hips jerked again, so you made a mental note of it. Hand pumping him, you delicately began to work more of his length into his mouth.

Your jaw ached and tears pricked at your eyes as you worked his length, trying not to let your teeth get too involved. Your mouth felt so incredibly full, and you had not even taken half of him. Bobbing your head and working your hand in tandem, Konig began to chant your name out, torn between squeezing his eyes shut and training them on you.

"Fuck, Luney, you are amazing, but I do not wish to finish in your mouth," he groaned out, gently placing a hand on your cheek and urging you off his cock. You coughed a bit, a string of saliva connecting you to him. He made a noise at the sight, wiping your bottom lip with this thumb.

"Lay down for me," he murmured, guiding you atop the soft furs once more. Konig's large form settled between your hips, spreading your thighs with his strong ones. He stroked his cock a few times, eyes raking up and down your body. "If it hurts, you tell me immediately," he commanded as he lined himself up to you. "Take deep, slow breaths."

You took a deep breath as instructed, and as you exhaled Konig made the first push in. The stretch was greater than his fingers, and you gasped, gripping at his biceps. His eyes flitted to yours in worry, but you shook your head. "Don't stop," you panted out. "I can take you. I want to take all of you."

Konig nodded once, leaning over you once more to toy with your nipples while he pressed kisses to your parted lips, peppering them all over your jaw and neck. He murmured continuous praise into your ear, slipping into his native language a few times as well.

You held onto his strong form, and after what felt like ages, he stopped. You glanced down, wanting to see where you were connected, and pouted as you realized he had not yet bottomed out. Konig caught your expression and chuckled breathlessly, kissing your lips softly. "Once you relax a bit more I will give you everything," he promised.

You nodded, hooking your legs around his thighs as he pulled out a fraction between rocking into you again. You winced, so he stopped, allowing you to adjust. You squeezed his arm in silent request for him to move again, and he did. You smelled the slight iron tang of blood, and realized you had bled. Unavoidable with someone as large as Konig, you supposed.

Konig continued rocking back and forth until you finally rolled your hips, turning your head to kiss his shoulder. "More," you breathed, eyes wide. "Please, Konig."

Konig slowly rose, snapping his hips forward again, this time stronger. You found that the pleasure overrode the pain and keened, back arching. Konig began moving faster, and you felt as he pressed more and more of his length into you until he bottomed out.

You felt incredibly full, unable to think about anything but this gorgeous male fucking you and looking at you like you hung the moon in the sky.

Constant moans now spilled past your lips, Konig reciprocating with grunts and growls himself. He reached forward to take one of your bouncing breasts in his hand, toying with the hard nipple, eliciting more whines from you.

He was so big you could feel him pressing to that delicious spot inside of you, and you whined as you attempted to communicate that. "Cum, Luney," he commanded, snapping his hips forward and grinding into you, into that sweet spot.

You felt your soul ascend once more in a wave of pleasure, body shuddering. Konig thrusted gently, fucking you through the waves of pleasure.

Your body was buzzing, impossibly heavy and light all at once. Konig was gritting his teeth, and you realized the base of his cock was swelling. Your cheeks heated in realization. He was a wolf shifter, and his knot was forming. You wanted to ask him to push it into you, to plug you up as he came inside, but he was carefully avoiding pushing the swelling knot inside of you. You realized with a frown that John had likely asked him not to cum inside of you, but it made sense. John should be the one to impregnate you as your husband, but part of you still mourned the loss.

Konig brought you back with a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he stared down at you with a furrowed brow. "Give me another," he commanded, hips becoming erratic as he chased his end. "Give me one more, beautiful."

Your chest heaved, but you obeyed. Your eyes rolled back as your body convulsed once more. As you came down from your high, Konig pulled out of you and stroked himself furiously until his hot seed was spilling over your round, abused breasts. Your eyes widened at the sheer amount that painted your skin, cooling moments later.

You bit your lip, looking up at Konig through your lashes.

"Fuck, Lune," he cursed as he took in the sight of you, thoroughly fucked out and covered in his cum. He nearly purred, his wolf incredibly pleased by the sight.

You both panted for a few moments before Konig heaved himself up, reaching for you and picking you up. "Bath time," he murmured.

Konig was gentle as he cleaned you up, holding you in the warm water of the giant clawed tub. Afterwards, he dried your hair lovingly and crawled into bed with you. The sheets had been changed by some sort of magic while you were in the bath, leaving the two of you clean, happy, and warm.

Konig held you the entire night, and wondered if John agreeing to allow this was actually the cruelest thing he could have ever done.

Chapter Text

The night with Konig had been amazing, but the next morning, as he slipped away before anyone awoke, you felt incredibly cold, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

You walked down to breakfast carefully, aware that Konig's scent was likely all over you, and yours over him. John had given you permission, and you were allowed to do whatever you wished with your body, but you knew how Fae males acted. These men believed John had a claim on you, and you sleeping with Konig would be an affront to that claim.

But you could take care of yourself. With a deep breath, you entered the dining room, where breakfast was already being served. Honeyed ham--no, wild boar--was in the center of the table, with perfectly browned toast and rich yellow blocks of butter next to it.

Your mouth watered, and for a moment you were able to ignore the way Soap, Kyle, and Ghost--ah, Ghost was here this morning--looked at you, the way their nostrils flared as they scented you. Konig wasn't here yet, then. Only John remained neutral, calmly spreading butter onto his toast and placing ham and eggs atop it in some sort of improvised sandwich.

Their gazes snapped to their king. "Ye not gonna sae anythin'?" Soap asked through gritted teeth.

John met his eyes calmly, taking a long sip of his tea. "About what, exactly?"

"Yer mate reeks of another male," Soap continued, eyes changing color for a brief moment.

John sighed. "What my mate smells of is none of your concern while she is in the safety of our home. She had permission. End of discussion. I will have none of you giving her, or her pup, a hard time. We both had our reasons. Lunelle, please sit down and eat. If any of them try to give you any more grief about it, I recommend the carving knife to the left of the ham."

You let out a soft sigh and nodded, but none of these males could do anything. You and Konig already had sex, and you were your own female. You could use your body however you pleased. No one, not even the males claiming to be your mates, had any say in what you did.

Chin held high, you began adding food to your plate. You eyed the butter dish across the table, where it sat closest to Ghost, who was merely staring at you intently. He still wore his mask, and had no food on his plate. You wonder if he even took that thing off in the presence of the other males.

"Ghost, would you please pass me the butter?" you asked, meeting his gaze head-on and not backing down, despite the chill that ran up your spine screaming submit! submit!

Everyone quieted, watching the interaction cautiously.

A beat of silence, and Ghost flicked a hand. Dark shadows rose to push the dish towards you. Interesting that he showed you some of his gifts, but you supposed you would learn eventually. You had no intention of being left in the dark about your future court, nor its members.

"Thank you," you said simply. Ghost, of course, did not respond.

-   -   -

You were brought to your dress fitting by Kyle, who was sunny as always as he spoke about how excited he was.

"I haven't been to a wedding in at least a hundred years," he said with a big smile. "They are always so fun. Everyone dresses up, there's music, dancing, good food! Are you excited?" He caught your expression, and his grin faltered. "Right. No. Probably not, eh? My apologies."

You gave him a small smile and shook your head. "No, it's alright. I...I never actually thought I would get married," you admitted. "Even if I found a male that I loved, odds of their family accepting a marriage with a half-breed are slim."

"Do not call yourself that," Kyle said in a surprisingly harsh tone. You frowned at him, so he continued. "Many Fae are incredibly backward. It's all elitist, ways to prevent others from realizing the power they could have over the Fae. Even lesser Fae are regarded as less than. You are not half anything, princess. You are you, and you do not need a male whose family is so short-sighted that they cannot see past something as insignificant as bloodlines."

Your throat felt tight, the backs of your eyes stinging. "Does everyone in Alextre think like this? Or are you all special?"

Kyle thought for a moment. "Alextre has had no formal hierarchy and nobility for...six hundred years? It was before this land was called Alextre, the kingdom before. But there was a revolution. An uprising of the lesser Fae, humans, the half-humans. It worked far better than anyone ever could have believed. The Fae did not take them seriously. The rebellion won not long after they breached the castle walls. Other things happened, some other Fae ended up lying and taking advantage of others and things were not great for a long time, but...people do not have the same prejudice here as they do in Theodric, no. No one thinks less of you for who you are here, princess. And if anyone says anything, Ghost will rip out their throats!" He said the last line far too brightly for its bloody undertone.

"Ghost? Doesn't he hate me?" you asked as you turned a corner.

Kyle made a noise of surprise. "No. I do not think he feels fond of you, but he will warm up. He is fiercely protective over our court, and soon you will be a part of that. He is honor bound to protect you. As we all are."

You reached the doors to where your fitting was, and Kyle opened them for you. "Have fun. I will be outside if you need any fashion advice."

"Thanks," you muttered as you slipped inside. There was already fabric laid out on couches and draped anywhere there was space. You had been to a couple of weddings in Theodric--only on technicality as the general's daughter--and they had been dull affairs. Brides were swathed in gauze of white and pastels, the skirts so large they likely had a gravitational pull. The music was all traditional, and as bland as the pale food that was always served at formal occasions. Chicken in cream sauce, potatoes peeled with no seasoning that would alter their color, parsnips treated in the same fashion. Desserts were far too sweet, flavored only with vanilla.

However, looking at all the fabric laid out, you already knew things were different in Alextre. There was no tulle in sight. There were some white fabrics, but the colors edged closer to cream and beige. Colors varied, but were all in rich jewel tones. Emerald greens, sapphire, amethyst, onyx gold.

An older-looking Fae, a sprite of some sort, welcomed you with a tight-lipped smile. "We did not know your color preferences, and His Majesty gave no word on your looks, so I brought plenty of samples, girl. Come, no time to waste." She snapped her fingers, and you found yourself quick to obey.

You stood on a raised platform as she and two brownies took your measurements, an enchanted quill jotting the numbers down.

While they measured, you looked around at the fabrics once more, your eyes catching on a burgundy, sheer fabric.

The dressmaker followed your gaze, a smirk quirking the corner of her lips. "At least you have taste."

She brought the fabric over to you. It was soft, luxurious-feeling but incredibly light. She brought over other fabrics to pair with it, and caught the way your eyes sparkled as she showed you the emerald silk.

For the next couple of hours, you stood as she draped fabric over you, pinning it with expert swiftness. You kept anticipating the prick of a pin, but found that she never once did.

Designs were drawn, and the dressmaker said she would be back in a week for the next fitting. A week was incredibly fast for a gown as complicated as she drew, but you supposed this old sprite had been making dresses longer than some kingdoms existed.

Thanking her, you stepped into the hall. You turned to see if Kyle was still there, ready to thank him for waiting, but found an imposing male with a mask covering the lower half of his face, blue eyes trained on you.

"Why are you here?" you blurted.

Ghost's pale eyes narrowed. "I can leave," he said stiffly.

You quickly shook your head. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I meant, where's Kyle?"

"Gaz has been called away on other business," the male replied simply. You knew you wouldn't get any more information from him.

All of these males had similar, yet different accents. Servants had similar accents as well, but you wondered if their slight differences were regional. You would ask John or even Kyle later, knowing Ghost would likely chop off an arm before offering you personal information.

"I see," you murmured. You began to walk, stopping as Ghost held out an arm. You thought he was ordering you to stop, but after glancing at the way he held his elbow out...

"Are you escorting me?" you asked, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

Ghost looked forward. "You are a princess. It is my duty as your assigned guard."

You didn't bother mentioning he really just needed to walk with you, silently taking his arm. He had a few layers on, but you were still amazed at the hard muscle you could feel. You ate the same things, so what kind of exercise were they even doing to get muscle like that?

You glanced over at Ghost, feeling like you should do something to fill the silence. "Do you like weddings, Ghost?" you decided, knowing it would be a safe topic.

"Not particularly," he answered simply. The tone of his voice left no room for further prying, so you gave up and allowed him to bring you all the way back to your room without opening your mouth again.

You neared your room, and Ghost suddenly tensed up. It only lasted a fraction of a second, but you noticed the way his muscles flexed before relaxing on his command again. A few steps later, you scented Konig, then saw him standing in front of your room.

"Luney," Konig greeted, yellow eyes marking your arm in Ghost's and staying there for a beat longer than necessary.

He reached for you, and Ghost pulled you back before he could touch you. "You will refer to her as Princess, not her first name," Ghost said stiffly. "You are merely her guard. You have no right to be so informal with His Majesty's betrothed."

Your eyebrows nearly reached your hairline. Konig looked incredulous even with his face nearly entirely covered. "I do believe it was you who protested her being betrothed to your king, wraith."

Ghost growled, and you realized with a start that Konig had realized at least part of Ghost's heritage. Wraith. Not full wraith, not if he had a fully corporeal body. That did explain the shadows, though.

"I had a talk with His Majesty," Ghost responded. "She is to be my queen, regardless of my approval. I am bound by my honor and duty to this court to respect her title."

"My title. But not me?" you cut in, frowning at the male who still held onto your arm. You yanked yourself free, moving closer to Konig. "Konig has been by my side since I was a child. If anyone is allowed to call me by my name, it's him. He is part of my court, and therefore you have no right to be this rude to him. If you do it again, I will take your punishment into my own hands, and I doubt John will oppose." You gave him a cruel smile you saw so often at court.

A low laugh sounded from behind Ghost's mask. "Then I shall be waiting, princess." The title felt more like an insult as he bowed slightly to you and turned sharply on his heel, making no noise as he went back down the hall.

-   -   -

"A wraith, huh?" you asked, sinking into the plush chair by the fire in your room. It was highly improper for Konig to be in here, and John would likely give you both a stern talking-to, but whatever.

Konig nodded, leaning against the mantle. "I finally placed his scent. I doubt that's all of it, since he's obviously not a full wraith. But it was enough to take him by surprise. Let him know I can still be a threat."

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. "Konig, these people do not have to be our enemy. You all seem keen on making it that way, but I'm going to be marrying John in a couple of weeks. John has proved to be a good male so far. I don't think he'd keep the company of bad males, either. So Kyle, Ghost...hell, even Soap likely aren't bad males, either. They are wary, and defensive, and so are we. I think we need to give them a chance. Because if I'm being honest, things seem better here than in Theodric. Especially for people like me."

Konig's eyes darkened. "Okay. So what do you want from me, Luney?"

"I want you to try. Try to be civil, if you can't manage to be nice."

The wolf shifter nodded before shifting on his feet. "And..." Gods, he actually sounded nervous. "And what about us?" There was a vulnerability in his eyes, and it took your breath away.

You understood, though. You did feel a stronger pull to Konig since sleeping with him. It was more than just physical, and you both knew it. He had not put a mating mark in you, since you were still unsure about that bit, but...it wasn't just sex.

"Well. Lots of royals take lovers, right? Especially in arranged marriages like this. So maybe, after things have settled, John can take whatever lovers he wants...and I can take the lovers I want." Honestly, the thought of John having lovers kind of bothered you, though you weren't sure why. Your Fae side wanted to growl at the thought of another female touching him. Could that be the mating bond? You felt the same at the idea of anyone touching Konig.

Konig stared at you, and you sensed he wanted to say more. You could guess what he was thinking, so you reached to hold his hand. "Konig. I know you want out of here, and you want me out of this marriage. I do too. But honestly, I had a feeling it would never be a love match for me. Females of lower rank than me are used in political dealings, and I always knew it was possible my fate would be the same. I don't like it, I think it's cruel, but we both know that if we run away...the king will blame my father. Even if John forgives it, the Theodric king will not. And I will not jeopardize Father."

His eyes guttered like a flame being doused. "I know that," he grumbled. "I understand. Okay, Luney. I will try. We will take things one day at a time."

Feeling relief, you slumped down again, curling into your chair. "Thank you. If I didn't have you, I don't think I would have been brave enough to make it this far."

"You would have," Konig said with such certainty that it made your heart squeeze.

-   -   -

One week until the wedding, and John was beginning to allow you to sit in on court meetings.

The fact that he was including you made your heart swell, and you hoped that it would continue. You also hoped he would listen to any opinions you had in the future, but for now you merely listened.

"We took care of one of the gangs still trying to terrorize villagers into paying them for protection," Kyle informed John. "The villagers were grateful, but also a touch cautious."

John nodded. "Understandable. Keep an eye on them. We do not want to establish a guard there and make them think we will do the same as the gangs. But report if any more pop up. The people need to know they are safe now."

Kyle made a note on a piece of parchment, then Soap spoke. "The shipments o' lumber went smoothly."

John nodded, also making note. "And the grain shipment promised in return?"

"Received," Soap confirmed.

Ghost spoke next, sending a neatly written list on a phantom limb towards John. "The finalized wedding guest list. Soap and I went over table arrangements to make sure nothing unsavory happens during the reception."

You peeked over at the list curiously, and John smiled as he showed you. Though, as expected, you recognized none of the names.

John, keeping his eyes on you, asked Ghost, "Did we receive General Travan's reply?"

Your breath stuttered.

Ghost paused before answering. "Yes. He said that due to conflicting events within the Theodric court, he would not be able to make it. He sends his regrets." Ghost reached into his overcoat, pulling out a small box. "He sent this as a wedding gift for the princess."

You scrambled for the box as soon as Ghost moved it towards you, fingers shaking as you opened it. Nestled inside was a delicate golden headpiece adorned with edelweiss flowers, the petals each set with opal, the centers with citrine. The flowers curled delicately towards a point in the middle that contained a larger rendition of the flower. Your lips wobbled, but you bit back the tears that threatened to gather.

"Beautiful," John whispered appreciatively, reaching under the table to squeeze your knee in reassurance. You nodded in agreement, carefully placing the headpiece back.

"I knew the Theodric king would not allow him to come," you said with a sniff, dabbing at your eyes with a handkerchief. "But I still hoped. Thank you, Ghost."

He merely dipped his head in acknowledgement, gloved fists tightening slightly where they rested on the table.

"Well, the guest list isn't so long," John said gently. "As I have explained, nobility is no longer an established hierarchy in Alextre. There are a few still of noble bloodlines that I will be inviting merely to keep good manners, but they should not give us any trouble. The rest are males and females I have known for a very long time, and if any of them cause problems we can deal with it."

"I would be happy ta put their heads on pikes fer ya," Soap offered helpfully.

Feeling reassured, you nodded. "Thank you."

"Alextre weddings are fun. Basically a whole party," Kyle provided. "You just have to look pretty, dance with His Majesty, and have a good time. Leave the rest to us."

You hoped they danced the same here as they did in Theodric.

John offered another smile to you, slipping his fingers between yours. You were shocked at how much comfort the action actually brought you.

Chapter Text

The dressmaker's name was Fluvia, and the dress she had made for you was easily the most gorgeous garment you had ever seen.

You were only used to Theodric fashion. Your time away from the capital never brought you to the centers of fashion for other lands, so the incredibly frilly lace affairs popular among Theodric Fae were all you knew.

However, the gown you now stood in...you had never truly felt beautiful in your life. But here, in this dress, you could imagine yourself to be attractive. Pretty, even.

The front of the gown was gathered green, dipping between your breasts. The same silk continued into long sleeves that hung off of your shoulders and were so long they swept the floor. The green slowly faded into the sheer burgundy fabric you had chosen by some magic you did not understand. The top of the dress, along with the sleeves, were trimmed in sparkling gold. The bodice of the gown nipped your waist in. It was ever so slightly see-through, with burgundy vines and flowers curling over the panels. A bit of white was added to the flowers, adding a bit of airiness to the otherwise dark color palette. The flowers continued into a layer of burgundy over a flowing green skirt, the wine-rich fabric flaring out and behind you in a long train. The train itself was also trimmed in gold, more flowers curling on the fabric. You had also been fitted with a white fur stole to wear over everything in the chill of early winter.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, running your hands over the flowers on the bodice. You didn't even feel self-conscious of the bit of skin visible through the fabric, instead feeling proud of the hard muscles and curves of your body. You were a warrior, after all.

"Dresses only complement the beauty of the wearer," Fluvia said airily as her hands deftly moved about the gown, making adjustments.

She had also brought a pair of delicate golden heels. You winced at the sight, but sliding them on you realized some sort of magic was at work. You felt steady on your feet. You could dance in regular heels, as you had done your entire life, but the extra stability of the magic would give you the confidence you needed next week.

"I recommend a half-up hairstyle for the wedding," one of the brownies chirped from where she worked at re-pinning the hem of your train. "It will look lovely with the headpiece your father gifted you."

"Thank you," you murmured, unable to look away from your reflection in the mirror.

You wondered how the boys would like it, then paused. You should only care about John's reaction, right? Or was it Konig's? Then why did you wish to know what expression Kyle would wear? What new sort of compliment Soap would conjure? You were even curious if Ghost's pale gray eyes would give anything away.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you began stepping out of the gown once Fluvia declared you were done.

You would miss the dress until your wedding day.

-   -   -

After declaring that you wished to practice dancing in case Alextre dances were different from Theodric, Soap and Ghost joined you in the ballroom. Konig was helping Kyle with wedding preparations, claiming he needed Konig's "brute strength" to carry in the large tables that would seat everyone.

A piano in the ballroom was enchanted to play on its own while Soap held one of your hands, the other on your waist.

"Aye, that's it lassie," he praised as you remembered a step you kept forgetting before this. "Yer a bit too used to leading, eh? Gotta let the male take charge 'ere."

You scowled at the phrasing, but allowed Soap to lead you towards another sweeping serious of footwork where you had to lean you upper body back, keeping a sort of circle of space between the two of you.

But, just as you had in the last round of practice, you slipped and stepped on Soap's foot in your heels. These were not your wedding shoes, merely other dressing shoes taken from your wardrobe.

Soap swore lowly, releasing you and closing his eyes. "Ghost, your turn," he called. "I need a drink o' somethin' strong before I can keep goin'." He limped slightly out of the room, and you winced.

"Sorry," you mumbled, but he just lifted a hand in dismissal.

"Soap is not the most graceful dance partner," Ghost provided from where he stood against the wall with his arms crossed.

You sighed, looking over at him. "You don't need to help me. I'll just wait until Soap's back."

Ghost pushed off from the wall. "Well, wouldn't want you to make a fool of yourself and step on His Majesty's toes." He stopped in front of you, his eyes almost white in the candlelight. He offered his arms out to you and waited, pinning you with his stare.

Gulping, you took his hand and placed your other on his shoulder. Ghost was very tall, but you managed to reach. His hand was cool on your waist, and as the piano started again, you swore you heard a violin join in.

Ghost lead you easily, and this time you found yourself able to keep up without breaking any of his toes. Ghost kept his gaze on yours, and you were enraptured, unable to look away. He twirled you suddenly, your body whipping around once, twice, before moving back into his chest. He held you tight to him as your leg lifted up to his hip. Ghost's hand gripped your thigh as your upper body dipped backwards, exposing the long column of your throat, making a slow circle back up.

You landed against his chest with surprising gentleness, both of your chests heaving as you slowly looked up at his gaze again.

You blinked a few times, but Ghost did not look away. His grip on your thigh tightened a fraction, his other hand flat on the small of your back and holding you to his hard body. "Lunelle..." he started.

"Yes?" Your heart thumped in your chest as you felt something squeeze and squirm. Your brow furrowed, but Ghost had released you faster than you could perceive.

Within the blink of an eye, he was back against the wall with his arms crossed. Opening your mouth to say something, to ask what the hell was that? you stopped short as the door swung open. Soap walked in with a glass full of some sort of amber liquid. He took a gulp of it, looking between you and Ghost.

"I told ye to practice with the lass!" Soap said in annoyance. Ghost's only answer was a shrug.

Had you just imagined the entire interaction? Surely not. Your imagination was hardly that creative or realistic.

"Sorry, princess," Soap said with a grin, downing the last of his drink before setting the glass down and heading towards you. "Alrigh' then. Let's go again."

"I--okay." You stared at Ghost, but he did not look at you. So instead you moved towards Soap. "Again."

-   -   -

The rest of your dance lessons were with Soap or Kyle. Konig joined a few times as well, to learn with you. Ghost never showed up again.

It was the night before your wedding, and your stomach was full of butterflies. You had walked onto plenty of battlefields, but marriage seemed the most terrifying, the most unfamiliar.

What were marriages even supposed to look like? Your mother died in childbirth, and your father refused to marry again, even when the Theodric king came close to threatening him.

Dinner had been a quick affair, sent to your room. The dining hall was undergoing the last bought of decorating, and John had amicably said Konig was welcome to eat in your rooms and keep you company.

"I'm nervous," you admitted, pushing around a chunk of yellow-orange roasted squash.

Konig had been shoveling food into his mouth so fast you wondered how he didn't choke. His mask was off, eyes clear as he watched you move the squash around. You stabbed a piece of zucchini a few times, and his brows shot up. "Well don't take it out on the produce."

You let out a little laugh, instead taking a bite of the vegetable. It was delicious, as always. The cook, a hobgoblin named Alton, was a male after your own heart with his use of seasonal vegetables. You had asked John if you could meet him one day, and the king gladly took you to the kitchens.  You praised Alton's cooking, and the hobgoblin's chest puffed up with pride. He was so happy he sent a piece of chocolate carrot cake and tea to your room that night.

"I will be by your side the entire time," Konig reminded you. "I have been by your side for every battle before this, and I will be here for every battle here on after."

"Yeah. Thanks." You sighed, continuing to eat, your thoughts far away.

You both finished your meals in silence, and you lead Konig to your door. You reached for the handle, opening the door for him. The shifter paused in the threshold, looking at you for a moment. "Goodnight, Luney. If you decide you want to run away after all, you know where to find me." He kissed your forehead gently, then pulled his mask back down.

"Goodnight, Konig," you responded with a smile. "I'll let you know."

But you both knew you were already all in. In for a penny, in for a pound. You never ran from a fight.

You curled up by the fire with a book on Alextre history, and fell asleep there until you heard a knock on your door. Not the main one, but the door that connected your room to John's.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, forcing yourself up to open it. John stood on the other side, the male's deep blue gaze registering your expression. It softened. "I did not mean to wake you."

You yawned, shaking your head and stepping back for him to enter your room. "No, it's okay. Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes. Quite. Just wanted to make sure my bride was not getting cold feet." He chuckled, standing awkwardly in your room.

Sitting on your bed, you patted the space next to you. "No. The fire has kept my feet incredibly toasty."

"Good," John breathed, sitting on your bed. "In that case, I have a gift for you."

Your brows lifted, and John produced a small, flat box from his overcoat. He gave you a gentle smile as he handed it over. "I have not been permitted to see your wedding dress, but was told that gold would be a safe choice."

You opened the box, finding a delicate gold necklace. The center of the necklace cascaded down in longer chains of gold, and you were sure the length would be perfect, considering the daring dip of your bodice. You smiled a bit, fingering the small chains, thumb slipping over the delicate jewels dotting it. "It's beautiful, John. Thank you."

Your gaze lifted to his, and you paused. He looked like he had more to say, so you waited. "About the wedding ceremony...it is quite simple. However, at the end...a kiss is expected."

"A kiss?" you repeated.

John nodded slowly. "Yes. To signify love between the newlyweds. I understand in Theodric outward displays of affection like that are frowned upon in public. But in Alextre, we are quite open."

A kiss. You nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

John swallowed. "Right. So, in order to prevent our first kiss being in front of a crowd, and perhaps to easy any nerves you might have...I was wondering if you would like to get it out of the way now."

You paused. "You mean...kiss right now?"

The king had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Quite."

You spotted red on the tops of his cheeks, and let out a soft laugh. "Your Highness, are you blushing?" You found yourself unopposed to the thought of kissing him. You didn't know if that made you a bad person, with how complicated things with Konig were, but if you were expected to do it publicly tomorrow... "Okay. Then kiss me."

John looked surprised before the gaze switched to determined. His eyes dipped down to your lips as his hand reached forward. You took a breath to relax, eyes slipping shut as John's warm, calloused palm met the side of your face, cradling your jaw.

He leaned in, and in a moment your lips connected. It was your first time kissing someone with as much facial hair as John, finding that it tickled ever so slightly as his lips gently moved against yours. Your hand laid over his, finding his warmth incredibly comforting. John felt like a hug after a hard day, a cup of tea on a cold night. Something about his energy was inherently comforting to your own.

The kiss was brief, and after you pulled apart for a moment, your eyes met. That was all it took for you to lean back in for more, moving a bit closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck. John responded accordingly, reaching for your hips and hoisting you onto his lap. His hands remained there, the king far too proper to allow them to wonder.

He did, however, allow his tongue to slip across your lips, where they opened for him. Your tongues danced, the king tasting of tea and lemon. After a few moments you pulled away, cheeks flushed. The king smiled at you, brushing your hair from your eyes. "I am looking forward to tomorrow, Lunelle."

"Yeah," you breathed, feeling light-headed. You would be expected to sleep with John tomorrow, to make the marriage official. And you found yourself wanting to. Especially right now, sitting in his lap. You shifted, and felt something firm. For a moment, your blood heated.

The king chuckled, scenting your arousal. "I see you are too. But good things come to those who wait, Lunelle." John leaned in to press one more firm, gentle kiss to your lips before he gently removed you from his lap. "Goodnight, princess. Meet me at the altar?"

"It's a date," you responded breathlessly.

John grinned, standing up and walking back into his room.

Tomorrow, you would be wed.

Chapter Text

"Am I going to be late?" you fretted, running your clammy palms over the fur stole settled around your shoulders.

Fluvia tsked from where she triple-checked the hem of your dress and train, making sure there would be no possible way for you to trip. "Nonsense. A wedding only begins when the bride walks in."

You nodded, staring at your reflection in the panel of mirrors situated in front of you. The dress was perfect. Fluvia, her two assistant brownies, and one of the castle servants all helped you prepare for the day.

It had started with a bath first thing in the morning. You had not been assisted in bathing since you were a girl, and felt a bit shy of all the hands helping. You were scrubbed, waxed, and polished like a new floor. Your skin was perfumed with sweet almond oil, and you were served breakfast in your rooms while one of the brownies began on your hair. A half-up style, as suggested, that left tendrils around your face. Curls framed the headpiece that now rested warm against your forehead.

John's necklace sat at your throat as well, catching the light each time you moved. One final accessory had been added today in the form of a belt slung across your hips. For when you walked down the aisle, you would not be carrying a bouquet of flowers like they did in Theodric. No, you would carry your mother's sword, and wear it on your hip during the ceremony itself. You were a warrior, after all.

Your makeup was subtle, but incredibly glittery. As soon as you turned your head, your eyes lit up with the light of a thousand tiny stars. Rouge kept your complexion rosy, and kohl had been used to darken your eyelashes. You actually felt like a princess.

"Alright," Fluvia finally declared, settling the train of your dress behind you. "I think that about does it. Time to meet your groom, dearie."

Your heart thumped in your chest. Your hands shook slightly as you held onto your sword. Konig would be escorting you from your rooms to the throne room, where the ceremony would take place. Dinner would be held outside in the dying light of twilight, and the night would end with drinks and dancing in the ballroom.

The doors to your room opened, revealing your tall guard. He turned at the sound, then froze as he took you in. Konig looked different from usual as well. In Theodric, he wore his officer's uniform to formal events, like your father. But today he was in a deep blue double-breasted coat. The pants fit him perfectly, tucked into supple black leather boots. All the hardware on the coat, as well as his belt, was gold. Even his usual mask had been switched out to something neatly cut to the collar of his coat, the yellow of his eyes stark.

"You look gorgeous," he said softly, looking you up and down before he pulled you into a tight hug. You felt warm and safe, Konig's presence soothing your nerves.

"Of course she does," Fluvia responded for you, tittering. "Be careful of her hair! Now hurry up and escort her. Mind her skirt."

Konig released you, and you saw the smile in his eyes as he took your arm in his. "No final thoughts on running away?" he asked, voice a bit strained.

You shook your head once. "No. I'm all in."

The wolf shifter blew out a breath. "Then all in we go."

As you wandered down towards the throne room, you took in the decorations that covered the entire castle. With a start, you realized the colors had been picked according to you and your dress. Boughs of pine were everywhere, though the deep greens had been replaced with slightly duller greens, the needles covered in a layer of snow that had been enchanted not to melt in the warm candlelight. Waxy green leaves were intertwined, all sporting ripe red berries. Everything felt organic and warm.

A white carpet lined the staircase, leading all the way to the throne room, the aisle lit with candles on both sides. As you approached the door, Konig stopped. He gave you a wistful smile, releasing you. "On your own from here, I'm afraid. I'll see you in there." Konig leaned in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you found it gave you strength.

"See you," you agreed, straightening yourself. Konig disappeared to go through a different entrance, and on your signal, the two guards stationed at the doors pushed them open just as the string quartet's sound swelled.

And there, at the end of the white carpet, stood your future husband.

John looked absolutely dashing. He wore a suit not totally unlike Konig's, though his was in a velvet burgundy, belt and boots a warm brown. His hair had been combed back, and the smile that lit his face as he saw you was genuine.

Returning the smile with a small one of your own, you took your mother's sword and held it between both of your hands by the hilt, raised chest-level and slightly out in front of you. As you began your journey, you found the other males standing to the right side of John, while Konig had gone to the left where you would stand.

They all wore suits in navy blue as well, the designs only differing slightly by collar and button design. Soap had replaced his pants for a type of tunic you had seen other servants wear before. The navy blue was crisscrossed with black, his strong legs covered in black socks. He smirked and shot you a wink when you met his gaze.

Kyle was beaming at you, a slight shine to his pretty maple eyes making you wonder if he was on the verge of tears. His waist was perfectly tucked in with the belt of his coat, long legs in slim-fitting trousers that nearly went to the floor.

Ghost was in blue as well, and you were slightly surprised he even agreed to wear anything other than black. His mask was also more subdued, though you had believed he would wear his elk skull mask again for the formal occasion. But no, you could see his icy gray eyes clearly. They never moved from you, despite him being still as a statue otherwise.

Your gaze returned to John as you met him at the front of the room, just in front of two tall-backed chairs--your thrones.

Theodric weddings were full of long scriptures about the Gods and commitment. They could last hours, depending on how high-ranking the couple was. The Princess's ceremony lasted three hours between the rituals and sermons.

Alextre weddings were simple. You merely had to recite a few lines in the Old Language, the language originally native to these lands. It used to be widely spoken, even in Theodric, but it had been banned in favor of modernity and claims that the Old Language was barbaric. In truth, it held magic. Your words today would wed you and John on more than just a symbolic level. It would hold you to your vows, tying your lives together, as well as your life to Alextre. It made you nervous, but Kyle had assured you that there was nothing to fear about old magic since it was based in love. If you meant what you said, the magic would protect you.

John began first, tongue sliding over the twisted consonants and lilting vowels. It sounded much prettier than when you repeated the phrases, clumsy and slightly off-rhythm.

You knew what the words meant now. I, Lunelle Travan, present my soul to John Price. I vow to protect his soul as my own from here until we reach the Land of Eternity. Let the land be witness, and let our union bless us and our people with abundance. 

Such a short speech, though you were glad it gave you less to memorize. John took your hands in his, your sword now hanging on your hip. A length of gold silk was handed to him by Ghost, and John wrapped it around your wrist while you wrapped it around his. You both pulled to tighten, and as the fabric rubbed against your skin you felt the weight of the magic settle over you, nearly making you shudder.

The silk seemed to fizzle away, though you felt nothing as it disappeared. John leaned in, and you knew this kiss would be nothing like the one you shared last night. Your eyes slipped shut as your lips met. The kiss was brief, but the warmth of John's lips made your heart flutter. As you pulled away, John grinned at you. "Ready?" he asked.

When you dipped your head in a yes, John faced the crowd gathered in the throne room. You had been so focused on your males--your?--that you had ignored the crowd entirely up until now. It was small, with only about one hundred people or so. As predicted, you recognized none of the faces. But you held your head high as John lifted your intertwined hands. Everyone rose.

"Subjects of Alextre," he called out, voice carrying over everyone, "I present to you Lunelle Travan, Queen of Alextre! Bow before her and swear your allegiance."

The crowd, including Soap, Kyle, Ghost--and even Konig--dropped to one knee, heads bowed. "Glory to the Queen," they called in unison, "Honor to the throne. We swear."

Another layer of magic fell over the room in a hush, making you tremble. John squeezed your hand as they dropped before motioning to the crowd with his other hand. His eyes met yours, and you knew that it was your turn.

"Rise," you ordered. The crowd stood, and you flashed a smile that you hoped mimicked the ones you saw from the Theodric queen. "Let us proceed to the feast."

A roar of agreement met you, and people began filing out to head outside. You and John would arrive last, and as the guests exited, you let out a sigh of relief. "I did it," you said, turning to John.

"Tha' ya did!" Soap agreed as he came to your other side, placing an arm around your shoulders. "Now ya jus' gotta worry 'bout havin' fun, lass."

"From here on people will be too busy gorging themselves and dancing to pay attention to us," John agreed.

"Eat as much as you want," Kyle encouraged as he moved to John's side. "After we eat, dancing will begin. You really only need to stay for the first few before you and His Majesty will be expected to move to the bridal chamber."

That sent heat to your cheeks, and Soap began teasing you as you moved outside.

-   -   -

The food, as always, was delicious. There were at least three kinds of roasted meat, potatoes prepared in all your favorite ways, warm flaky pies filled with savory gravy and vegetables, and bread that was perfectly crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. All of it stayed hot despite the chill of winter, a charm cast to keep everyone from freezing.

You and John sat at the head of the table, and they were right when they said no one would pay attention to you. Everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves, with most of the guests coming to congratulate the both of you with genuine smiles.

Cake would be served just before dancing, so as everyone's bellies grew full it was time to move inside again.

The ballroom was decorated in similar fashion to the rest of the castle, with candles floating above everyone like some sort of night sky. You felt nervous about your first dance with John despite all the practice you got in, and ended up eating two large pieces of chocolate cherry cake to settle your nerves.

Konig offered you a third piece and you almost accepted when John found you again. You knew it was time.

The crowd made way in the center of the ballroom, where you stood with John in position, your hand in his and on his shoulder, with John's other hand on your waist. He grinned at you, and as the music started you fell into rhythm with him.

Honestly, you still felt a bit clumsy, but you managed not to step on his toes or trip over your gown. The train had been bustled to keep it out of the way for dancing, so that at least removed one hazard.

John's hands were warm, and he never took his eyes off of you. "You look stunning today, love," he said, the new nickname making your cheeks prick with heat. "I think you look stunning every day, but today in particular you look like a queen."

"Thank you," you responded, the praise giving you the confidence to straighten your spine a bit more. "You look very handsome as well, John."

The male chuckled, twirling the both of you around. "Happy to hear it. I plan on praising you much more later." The meaning wasn't lost on you, and you were sure your entire face was red by now. John laughed softly again, and as the music wound down he stepped away from you to give you a sweeping bow, which you answered with a dip of your own.

Almost immediately Soap was in front of you, a big grin on his face. "My turn. Let's see how tha' practice did ya," he said as he took your hands.

Soap got his dance, and Kyle was after him. Konig found you as well, and once your dance with him was over you stood by a dessert table, sharing a small bowl full of citrusy mousse that seemed to fizz on your tongue.

"Almost time to head to the bedroom?" he asked, and you didn't miss the layer of disappointment coating his words.

You nodded slowly, taking another spoonful of the fluffy mousse. "Yeah," you responded. "Are you...alright?"

Konig's citrine eyes blinked in surprise. "I should be asking you that, Luney. I don't like it, but I understand. You're married to him now, for Gods sake. Of course you're going to sleep with him. I...I know you're my mate, whether or not you believe that. But...I don't know. I know John will take care of you. I see it. So...yeah. I'm okay. I want you to enjoy it."

His words shocked you, but you also felt a huge wave of relief. You felt guilty about it before, but if Konig was alright with it...

"I'm okay," you assured him. "I know he will take care of me. Thank you, Konig."

He nodded, and took your spoon to set it on a tray. You turned, about to look for John, but a figure blocked you. A tall, broad figure. You looked up, finding Ghost standing in front of you. His stormy eyes studied you. "May I have the next dance, Your Majesty?"

You blanched a bit at the title. "You...you want to?"

Ghost nodded. "I would like to dance with my new queen before you retire for the night."

You met Konig's eyes for a moment. The wolf shifter looked a bit wary, but you found yourself nodding at Ghost's request, putting your hand in his. "You may."

You weren't sure what you were expecting. A repeat of the only other time he danced with you? Ghost was a model dance partner. He did nothing unexpected, though you still found that dancing with him was incredibly easy, incredibly simple. It felt like breathing, like holding your sword in your hands. Natural.

Ghost's eyes weren't pinned to you the whole time either, though he caught you looking at him so many times that finally his brow furrowed. "Yes?"

"Did I imagine our other dance together?" you blurted out.

Ghost looked away from you. "No."

At least he didn't deny it. "It really happened, then? What...what was that?"

Ghost's shoulders rolled uncomfortably. "I do not know what you mean."

"It was...it was like nothing I've ever felt before," you continued as Ghost twirled you. "It felt right."

His eyes gave away nothing. "I see."

You frowned. "You didn't feel it too?"

"Feel what?"

Your mouth opened to pry more, but the song was ending. Ghost released you immediately, though his eyes never left you as he bowed to you.

"Ghost--" you started, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. You instinctively twisted, hand reaching for your sword, but John's voice broke you out of it.

"Easy, Lunelle. Just me. Are you ready, or would you prefer to dance more?"

Your eyes were still on Ghost's retreating figure until he was entirely out of sight. Slowly, you turned to your husband. "I think I'm done dancing."

-   -   -

The bridal chamber was really just your room, though it had been decorated while you were away. Dried flowers were everywhere, and the bedsheets had all been swapped out to deep reds. A large pitcher of water was close to the bed, as well as a basin of water and towels. On another table, under a glass cloche, were small cakes that would give both of you a bit of energy if need be.

The servants really made sure you were prepared for the entire night, and it made your ears turn red.

John stepped in behind you, the door clicking shut along with the lock as he slid it home. Slowly, you turned towards him. He smiled a bit as he waved a hand, and you felt your ears pop as he cast a silencing charm, the air pressure of the room changing for a moment.

You had done this with Konig before but...you suddenly felt like it was your first time all over again. You supposed it was your first time, at least with John.

"This dress is absolutely lovely," he said as he walked towards you, fingering the sheer fabric on the sleeves. "May I take it off of you, Lunelle?"

You blinked twice before you nodded, and John's eyes never left your face as he reached around you. His hands splayed against your ribs, then slid back over your waist, to the ties of the bodice. A few expert tugs, and you felt the bodice loosen. Your hand lifted to your chest to hold it there on instinct, keeping it from falling down.

"No need to hide here," he murmured to you. John slid his calloused fingertips over your hand, and you slowly let the fabric go. It pooled around your feet in a puddle of red and green silk, and you shivered as you were exposed.

You had an underskirt, but your top half was entirely bare. The dress had stays built in, and the sheer panels on the waist left no room for any sort of shift. John's eyes landed on your breasts, but he made no move to touch them yet as he simply grabbed at the thin skirt around your hips, undoing the ties at the waist and letting them join the gown.

You were now completely bare in front of your new husband, and the thought send a wave of heat straight to your stomach. John's throat moved as he began undoing the buttons on his coat with a soldier's swiftness, each movement purposeful and quick.

The jacket was shed, and John motioned his chin to the bed. "Go lay down and present yourself to me," he commanded simply.

"Present?" you repeated, bewildered.

John nodded, already working at his shirt now. "On your back with your legs spread for me. Arms above your head."

Oh. Oh. Your breath caught, but you slowly went towards the bed. You laid back on the silk sheets, arms lifted above your head, fully displaying your breasts. You hesitated to spread your legs though, shame burning your cheeks.

"I believe I told you to spread your legs, Lunelle. This is our first time, so I am asking you again. But from here on out I will only ask you to do things once. Do you understand?" John now had his trousers pulled off, and was completely bare to you.

You caught sight of his thick, hard cock and gulped. Not quite as massive as Konig, but thick and sturdy, slightly curving inwards. He would fill you nicely, and you could already how that curved tip would press against that special spot in you so perfectly.

So you spread your legs, the wetness already gathered there making you shiver.

"Good girl," John murmured, eyes dark as he stared at you, hunger and lust filling them.

Your time with Konig had been full of uncertainty and softness. John had gone right to telling you what to do, and you felt thankful, honestly. There was no second guessing, no wondering what he would or wouldn't like if he just told you. It made you relax, and you wondered if that was the whole point. The praise also went right to your head, making you feel light-headed.

"My queen," John murmured reverently, sitting next to you on the bed. He touched your cheek, his touch feather-light as he trailed his fingertips from your lips, down the column of your throat, and between the valley of your breasts. They drifted over the plane of your stomach, then skipped over the core of you to move over one of your spread thighs. You shivered at the sensitive spots, sighing.

John's hand trailed back up, this time to one of your breasts. His eyes never left your face as he used one finger to slide around your nipple in slow circles, never quite touching it. Eventually you let out a soft noise, squirming and searching for his touch.

John chuckled. "Patience, Lunelle. Maybe if you asked me for what it is you want, your king would indulge you."

Your eyes snapped to him, brows furrowing. Ask? How? Just... "Touch me," you requested, adding a quick, "please."

"Not specific enough," John said with a slight shake of his head. "Touch you where? Here?" He dragged another circle around your entire breast.

You shook your head. "N-no. Touch...touch my nipples. Please."

"See? Not so hard." John rewarded you by slipping his hand over your aching, hard nipple finally. He pinched and tugged gently while you whined and arched into his hand. John gave the other nipple the same treatment before his fingers began their path south.

"Already so wet for me," he said in approval, dipping his finger into your slick and dragging it up your folds once before lifting his hand and showing you the shine of your wetness. He rubbed his fingers together before he brought them to your mouth. You stared, and John lifted a brow. "Open your mouth and taste how sweet you are for me," he commanded.

A sigh shuddered out from you, but your lips parted and John slipped his fingers inside. You found you tasted tangy, a bit sweet, and not unpleasant at all.

"That tongue," John sighed out as you rolled your tongue over his digit. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and instead leaned down, claiming your mouth with his own. This kiss was nothing like the brief one you shared yesterday.

This kiss was firm but not too rough. John pressed his tongue into your mouth with a grunt, sighing as he slipped his tongue over yours. Wanting to do something, you decided to suck on his tongue, and John responded with a groan that made you swell with pride.

While you kissed John toyed with your breasts, experimenting with the strength of his fingers as he pinched and pulled on your nipples. Higher-pitched moans and whines left you as he tugged harder, and you found you didn't mind a bit of pain.

"Such a pretty mouth," John murmured against your lips before he pulled back and sat up on his knees next to you. His fist pumped his cock a few times while his other hand reached for the back of your head. "You sucked Konig's cock, right Lunelle? Show me what you learned."

Hearing John talk about your night with Konig made another spike of heat shoot through you. Did you like that?

Cheeks red, you looked up at John as he guided his cock to your mouth, presenting it to you. Your hands replaced his for a moment as you gave him a few strokes, tongue slipping against the smooth head. He sighed at the movement, so you licked him again. But John had much less patience than Konig, and soon enough he was pushing his length into your mouth.

"Good girl. Good girl, Lunelle," John chanted as he began rocking his hips into your mouth, head tilting back with his lips parted. You gave up on stroking him with your hand, instead bracing yourself against the bed. John's hands both held your head now as he fucked your mouth.

Each time you gagged around him he pulled back for a moment, allowing you to breathe. "You can keep going," you gasped out to him, wiping drool from your chin.

"Oh?" John looked amused. "Okay, Lunelle. But you tap me if you need a break."

You nodded, but John put two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up. "I need verbal confirmation, Lunelle. What do you do if you need a break?"

"Tap," you responded, and John nodded once.

"Good girl." He pushed back into your mouth, and this time he did not stop as you gagged over him. It was hard, and you had to concentrate on breathing through your nose while pressing your tongue to his cock and keeping your teeth out of the way, but each time you looked up through tear-wet lashes and saw his expression of pleasure, it was worth it.

You didn't know how long John kept fucking your mouth, but he pulled back as his balls tightened. "Fuck," he cursed, the first time you had ever heard him use such filthy words. "I was getting close there," he chuckled.

"I-it's okay," you stammered out. "You can cum in my mouth."

John tilted his head at you, taking in your state. Your makeup was a bit smudged under your eyes from the tears, and your lips were red and puffy. He touched your cheek gently, pushing a stray curl back. "Do you want me to?"

You nodded, then remembered when he had made you ask for exactly what you wanted. "I want you to cum in my mouth," you said firmly.

"'I want you to cum in my mouth, my king'," he corrected, a hand slipping over your throat, as if feeling where his cock had gone moments before.

"I want you to cum in my mouth, my king," you repeated, and John was back to pushing himself down your throat within seconds. His hips drove into you wildly, erratically. They stuttered, and as he pushed all of him into you, he spilled down your throat.

You nearly choked again before forcing yourself to swallow as John's deep moans reverberated through your very bones.

"That was divine, Lunelle," he praised as he pulled out of your mouth. He remained hard though, cock twitching as his eyes slid over your body. They stopped on your pussy, and he placed a hand on your hip.

"All fours for me, love. I want to show my queen what it means to be my wife."

You trembled slightly as you lifted yourself onto your arms, but you managed the position he asked for. John's hands dug into your supple rear and then he was diving in, licking at your pussy and sucking on it like a man starved.

You gasped and jerked, but his hands held you firmly in place. His tongue flicked at your clit, and your orgasm hit you without warning. You nearly screamed, legs shaking as you fisted the sheets beneath you, burying your face into the pillow.

"That's it," John murmured, lapping leisurely at you as you came down from the high. "Would you like another orgasm on my tongue, or should I fuck you?"

"Fuck me," you whined out, pussy clenching, begging for something, anything. "Please."

"Alright, alright. Just need to make sure you are nice and loose." John pressed two fingers into you, and you felt no pain whatsoever as he thrust his fingers into you quickly. A third was added with no issue either, whines leaving you as you felt his fingers curl into that sweet spot. Your hips pressed back into him, but he clucked his tongue as he removed his hand. "Patience."

He positioned himself behind you, and after lining himself up he entered you in one slow, steady stroke. You gasped, his girth absolutely perfect. No pain whatsoever, only the feeling of being full and warm.

John's hands swept over your back, down your waist, and they settled at your hips so he could hold you as he began to move his hips. He set a rhythm pretty quickly, his grunts and your moans filling the room.

"Can I spank you, love?" he asked, fingers pressing into your rear. "I will be gentle, and just say the word and I will stop."

You had never been spanked, but you were willing to try. "Y-yes," you managed.

John's hand came down on your rear with a sharp smack, and a noise left you. It stung, but didn't hurt in a bad way. John took your reaction in and repeated the action, your hips jerking with the impact. Grunting, he continued spanking you until you finally whined at him that it was enough, the skin becoming too sensitive to continue.

"You did so well, so perfect," he murmured soothingly as he massaged your sore skin. "Come on now love, on your back. I am sure you are getting tired."

John aided you as you flipped over, falling back onto the pillows. He smiled, leaning in to peck your lips. "How are you doing, love? Need anything? Water? A snack?"

"Water, please," you said, breath heaving. John nodded once before he stood to retrieve a glass, filling it from the pitcher. He brought it back to you, and you downed the entire glass. John poured another, and made sure you drank all of that, too.

"Ready to continue?" he checked, peppering kisses along your inner thighs as he sat between your legs. 

"Yes, please," you breathed, and that was all John needed as he pressed into you again. You sighed out, happy to be full again, and John grabbed your legs to rest them on his shoulders. It lifted your hips up and made him hit a new, deeper angle that had you squeaking.

"Oh?" he hummed, rolling his hips forward, eliciting another mewl from you. "This feel nice, love?"

You cried out in agreement, and John picked up the pace, though he altered his rough thrusts with long, languid rolls of his hips. You began feeling that familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach, and reached for his legs, grabbing at him. Taking the hint, John pushed all the way in and began grinding his hips into yours. A few moments later you saw an explosion behind your eyelids as your orgasm hit you.

"So tight, squeezing around my cock like that," John growled. "I do not think I can hold back much longer, Lunelle."

"You don't have to," you assured, voice a bit slurred.

John chuckled, lowering your legs. He leaned over so his body was atop yours, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold his muscled torso to yours. The king began to chase his own end, panting softly in your ear. "I am going to cum inside of you, love," he murmured. "I want to fill you up with my children. Make your stomach and pretty tits nice and round. Would you like that?"

You could picture it, being pregnant with John's child. You knew it was only talk, since this morning you had both taken a small capsule made up of ground bark and leaves from a tree that would prevent pregnancy, but this kind of talk surprised you with the way it turned you on.

"Yes," you responded. "Yes, my king. Cum inside of me. Give me your children."

John swore lowly, his hand snaking between the two of you to start rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Cum for me," he nearly commanded you, "Want you to cum while I fill you up with babies. Come on, love. Let go."

You were truly gone by this point, because moments later your body jerked and twitched against his, and you writhed as you came around his cock. John sighed out at the way your pussy fluttered around his cock, his hips sliding home once more as he twitched inside of you, filling you up.

You felt a slight warmth from his cum, and John stayed like that for a moment, laying on top of you with his cock inside of you as it softened. Eventually he moved, cock slipping out. His cum drippled from your swollen pussy, making you whimper.

John sat back, staring at the sight appreciatively before he pulled you against his chest, pressing kisses to your face and the top of your head. "You were so perfect, Lunelle," he said, stroking your hair.

You appreciated the close contact as you came down from your aroused high, leaning into his warmth.

"Do you need anything before we get in the bath?" he checked, eyes raking over your body to make sure you had no areas of obvious discomfort. "A snack? I want you to drink some water, too."

You nodded in agreement, and John split half a cupcake with you before you were in the bath. He lovingly washed your hair and body, drying you off and helping you into some warm cotton pajamas before joining you in bed.

Sleep was swift, but when you woke up in the morning with John's hard length pressing to your thigh, you both ended up late for breakfast.

Chapter Text

You were now included in every meeting, every joining of the court.

Running a kingdom involved much more bureaucracy than you had realized. Yes, you had been to court in Theodric, but only for war meetings and official events. Day-to-day meetings had much more mundane talks about budgeting, security, trade, and policy.

Still studying up on Alextre, you mostly sat and listened. The other males of the court turned serious in these situations, always earnest about their reports and suggestions.

Alextre's main trades were lumber, wool, and anything that could be mined from the mountains, namely coal and iron. They relied on other kingdoms mostly for grain, the climate being tricky to farm. You supposed not many of the Fae had the magic of your family; earthen magic was common enough in Theodric that they were able to export a number of exotic fruits and vegetables alongside wheat, rice, and any other number of staple grains.

You felt incredibly useless. Your father was powerful enough that he could certainly grow enough fields to at least make a difference here, but your magic was incredibly limited. John never asked you about it though, and none of the other males ever held it against you.

When it came to policy, you were adamant about sharing your opinion. Everyone listened to you, taking notes and asking follow-up questions. It made your heart fill with warmth.

But you could hardly advocate for a kingdom you barely knew, so at dinner you finally looked at John and said, "I would like to go to town tomorrow."

There was a beat of silence as everyone's eyes went to the king. John nodded, taking a drink of wine. "Very well. I would like you to take a guard with you."

"Konig can come with me," you said immediately. Konig was standing behind you towards the wall. He had not yet removed his mask in front of the other males, and you knew that he might never feel comfortable enough to do so. He usually ate before everyone else, content to just stand in the dining room despite John inviting him to sit.

"No. You will take Ghost," John countered.

Ghost, who sat directly across from you, paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. He wore his mask at the table, but lifted it over his mouth to eat with everyone. His near-white eyes met yours, and you frowned.

"I want to talk to people. Ghost will scare everyone away!" you protested. Soap choked on his stew.

"Why can't I take Konig?"

John folded his hands as he looked at you. "Konig has never been to town. Konig also is not familiar with Alextre, nor its citizens. You will be safer with someone who knows the lay of the land, as well as our people." He glanced back at Konig, a smile quirking his lips. "Besides, you think Ghost will scare people and Konig will not?"

You paused, looking at Ghost. Ghost was quite intimidating. The mask aside, he was quite large and his eyes were unnerving. You glanced back at Konig, who was even bigger than Ghost, had a mask that covered more of his face than Ghost, and had piercing yellow wolf's eyes. "You have a point," you said with a sigh.

John hummed. "As do you. Ghost is indeed not the most approachable male. In that case, you will go with Soap. Is that an acceptable compromise?"

Soap smirked at you, dropping a wink as you met his eyes. "Can I take Kyle instead?" you asked.

Kyle gave a pretty, apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I have to play emissary tomorrow. I can take you when I get back in a couple of days?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I'll go with Soap."

"No worries lass, I only bite with consent," he chortled.

John gave your knee a squeeze under the table. "You have permission to punish him if he gets too rowdy."

"Ya promise?" Soap's expression was a bit too eager.

-   -   -

At breakfast Soap told you he was ready to leave whenever you were.

You would make the brief journey on horseback, since the snow could make towing a carriage through the road a bit challenging. While you could ride your horse in skirts, you opted for pants instead, wanting freedom of movement. You wore a tightly woven undershirt, a men's style button-down over that, and then a soft cream wool tunic over all of it. Your mother's sword rested at your hip, though you hoped you wouldn't need it.

Kyle told you before that the road was generally safe, but during the colder months people tended to get more desperate and robberies increased. John hadn't seemed to worried, but suggested you be armed anyway. You felt more comfortable having the sword, anyway.

You pulled a fur-lined gray cloak from your closet and clasped it at the front, pulling on fur-lined gloves as you headed outside, where Soap already had his horse saddled and ready along with Quick Silver.

Giving your horse's nose a gentle rub, you quickly checked that her blanket was on firmly, then checked all the buckles on the saddle as well.

"Don' trust me?" Soap joked as he mounted his horse.

"Maybe you want me to fall so you can play savior," you replied, hoisting yourself onto Quick Silver's back.

Soap laughed. "I don' think ya need anyone to save ya, princess." At least he gave you that much credit.

The "princess" nickname had unfortunately stuck. However, getting called queen was somehow even worse, so you dropped it and allowed them--Soap and Kyle--to continue to use it. John stuck with your full name, only addressing you as queen during court of people other than his usual ring of Soap, Kyle, and Ghost, were present. You were well aware it was for appearances. He, as well as the others, had to keep up with titles to show you respect as well as give you some amount of power and authority. Ghost, to your chagrin, had taken to calling you Your Majesty, and only Your Majesty despite your pleas for him to just address you by your name. He ignored you.

The ride into town was uneventful. Snow covered everything in a thick, white blanket, silencing your horses' footsteps for the most part. It snowed in Theodric, but never quite this much. The sight of bare branches weaving between vibrant evergreen trees made you shudder. Winter always felt eerie to you, and this was only the beginning of the season.

"You alrigh'?" Soap asked, catching the movement. "If yer cold, I've got an extra cloak."

"No, it's not that. I'm warm enough. Just..." You sighed, the breath materializing in a cloud in front of you. "I don't like winter. I always feel disconnected from my magic. Winter is needed, so the leaves fall and feed the earth, and the earth feeds the trees for the spring. I know the trees and plants aren't actually dead, but it's like I'm stuck in the middle of a very long night, waiting for sunrise. I know the sun will rise, but in the thick of it, surrounded by darkness, you start to doubt. My father, he can grow things anywhere. Doesn't matter the climate or time of year. But me, I'm...I'm incredibly limited. Maybe if I had that constant connection to the earth I wouldn't mind as much. For being the daughter of a male as powerful as my father, everyone always found it odd how little magic I actually have. Many half-Fae have none, but...my father might be the most powerful earth magic wielder ever. How did I end up with just a seed?"

Soap considered your words. "Well, as ya said, the sun will rise. Winter's just a bit of a rest. Yer magic's the same; resting. Life is all about balance. Winter makes ya appreciate spring more. No light without the dark and all tha'." He grinned. "Don' let it get ya down, lass. Havin' magic isn't everything. I haven't got a lick past my shifting."

You looked at him in shock. "Your only gift is shifting?"

That wasn't rare. In fact, most Fae were usually only given one gift. Magic, usually elemental, or the ability to shift. A few Fae had both, and were usually incredibly powerful. You assumed all the males in John's court had both.

"Aye," Soap said. "John took me on because of my ability to fight. No one can best me in combat."

"Even John? Or Ghost?"

Soap's grin was feral. "Aye. Based on pure strength with no other magic, hand-to-hand? I win. I got to where I am on my own trainin'."

You could understand the feeling. You were a damned good soldier, and an exceptional swordsman. However, none of that had to do with your Fae side. It had been your own dedication and training. You considered the hyena shifter. "Would you teach me? I'm pretty good with weapons, but in hand-to-hand combat I'm not the best."

"I'd be happy to," he responded, looking pleasantly surprised.

You found yourself smiling. "Thank you."

Soap waved a hand in dismissal, and you spent the rest of the ride into town in comfortable silence. No one tried to ambush you along the way, and soon enough the trees cleared and town came into view.

The buildings were a mix of log and brick, and looked incredibly inviting. Smoke curled from their chimneys, promising warmth and hospitality. Many shops had their doors open to entice customers inside. Dress forms showing off simple and elaborate gowns spilled out of a dressmaker's shop. A bakery displayed an array of buttery croissants, the smell of scones wafting from the open windows. Further down the road, a constant ting, ting rang out from a blacksmith shop where a male was shaping a horseshoe.

Everything was incredibly lively, but the thing that surprised you the most were the people milling about. Fae of all shapes and sizes mingled with humans without so much as glancing at each other. A human woman towing two ruddy-cheeked boys laughed loudly with a dark-eyed selkie. A satyr sold a human male a bottle of wine with a smile.

For a long moment, you took in the scene. "Is...is it like this everywhere?" you asked softly.

Soap knew what you meant. "No," he admitted, "it's not. We're workin' on it. But it's getting better. Takes time, for people to open up."

Your eyes stung, and you blinked away the moisture. "I'm glad. I always knew it was possible."

"Of course. Most people just want peace." Soap gave you a small, gentle smile. "Come on, lass. We'll let the horses rest while we look about. We'll get lunch at Minnie's later."

You dabbed at your eyes with your sleeve, letting Soap take the lead.

You walked with Soap a step behind you, smiling at the shop owners as you talked to them. Soap knew them all by name, asking questions that made it clear he had some level of personal interest in each and every person.

Soap was also quick to hand over silver or gold marks when he noticed something catching your eye. He already had a hair pin and bag of freshly baked rolls stuffed into a canvas bag he carried, and the moment you examined a pretty, slim dagger with a hilt engraved with stars, Soap was already handing over a gold mark.

"Soap!" you protested, "you don't need to buy everything I touch! I'm just looking!"

"Ye like it, don't ya?" he replied simply, taking the dagger from your hands and slipping it into your belt. "No worries, princess. King's orders; buy the bonnie lass whatever she wants." He winked at you, tilting your chin up towards him. "Just let me spoil ya for the day, eh?"

You scrunched your nose, and Soap's lips crooked at the corner. He tapped your nose, then slipped an arm around your waist to guide you forward.

As promised, after your shopping you went to Minnie's for lunch. Minnie, the owner, was a tall dryad, running the small restaurant with her husband. They had deep, beautiful skin that seemed to shine, and lovely lilting accents that hinted they were not from anywhere you had been before.

The food was nothing like you'd ever had, either. The meat was richly spiced, stewed together with beans and other vegetables until it fell apart. You ate everything with your hands, using flatbreads to sop up everything. The food felt like a warm hug, like coming home.

Soap, watching you eat, grinned. "Told ya it was the best," he said, and you could only agree. He took another bite himself, sighing. "I think this is what sex tastes like. Spicy, warm, satisfying."

You choked on your tea, ears turning red at the bedroom talk in the middle of the restaurant. Soap howled with laughter, reaching over to pat your back. "Sorry, lass. Too much for ya?"

Shaking your head, you licked your lips and stared down at your plate. "No. I happen to think sex tastes like chocolate."

Soap's brows nearly reached his hairline. "Chocolate? Is that with His Majesty, or your pup?"

Your face, ears, and neck turned red. Soap marked it and let out another whoop of laughter. "Aye, aye, they're both chocolate."

They were, though. Konig was like milk chocolate. Smooth, sweet, familiar. John...John was dark chocolate. Still sweet, but his tendency to boss you around added that edge of bitterness. Not an unpleasant one though. On the contrary, it was welcome. Needed, to offer balance.

Soap was silent, as if letting you process your thoughts. He set down his mug, tilting his head at you. "Sex with me would taste like honey."

You stared at the hyena shifter, baffled. His expression was uncharacteristically serious, his gaze meeting yours before sliding down to your lips. An expression you couldn't quite name softened his eyes, but it was gone so fast you questioned if you even saw it to begin with. The smirk at come back, and he was swaggering away to pay your tab, leaving you staring after him in utter confusion.

-   -   -

"It was like nothing I had ever seen," you told Konig while he accompanied you to the library where you searched for whatever books you could find on the plant life in Alextre. "Humans and Fae, all just...living normally."

Your guard nodded, scanning the shelves. "I'm glad. we both know it would take a literal revolution to reach that in Theodric, but...I'm glad there are some places that prove it's possible."

"Theodric would likely use it as further proof that Alextre is backwards," you agreed with a sigh. "The more I learn about Alextre, the more I wonder if Theodric lied to everyone on purpose."

The wolf grunted. "I don't know if I'd go that far. You heard what the king and others have said about how things were before His Majesty became king. It likely was a violent place up until very recently."

"But Fae and half-Fae still lived together in relative peace," you argued, stretching for a book.

Konig easily pulled it from the shelf, handing it to you. "Yes, because they had to worry about everyday survival. They didn't have as much time to start drawing class lines."

You huffed. "And anyone who isn't Fae has to worry about survival in Theodric. We've both seen the slums, how people starve."

"Yes, because class lines have been drawn and upheld for centuries." Konig sighed. "Luney, I know you're happy about what you saw today. But Soap said it himself, didn't he? It's not like that everywhere. I don't want you to idealize this place and get your hopes crushed when you see inequality somewhere else. Nowhere is perfect."

Konig's gaze was almost pitying, like you were a child naive of the world. It irritated you, and you shot him a look that said just as much. Konig met your gaze with an open one. He understood how you felt, but wanted to make sure you had a foot in reality.

"I know that, Konig." You sat down at a long redwood table. "But it's a start. It's more progress than I've seen anywhere. It's proof that there's hope for peace."

Even the wolf could not argue with that.

-   -   -

"Did Soap behave today?" John asked as he undressed.

Since your wedding night, you spent a few nights together a week. John made it clear you could send him away, but you enjoyed his presence. Even without sex, he was warm, and you felt safe with him.

You thought back to his hand on your waist, his comment about sex,  his lingering gaze. "He flirted with me."

John chuckled. "On par for him. Did it make you uncomfortable?"

Again, you thought about it. But honestly... "No," you said with a shake of your head. "It didn't make me uncomfortable."

"Good. He's harmless."

You felt inclined to agree, so you didn't bother replying. You stripped yourself of your clothes, only feeling slightly shy towards John in your bare state, and padded off to the bathroom where a steaming bath awaited you.

You let the events of the day swirl around your head, mixing in with Konig's words. Eventually the thoughts settled as the bath cooled, and you pulled yourself out of the water with resolve.

Not every town was like the one you visited today. But if you had any say in it, towns like that would spread. You would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

"Again!"

Training hand-to-hand with Soap began about three days after your trip to the village. You had trained in many styles of combat before, under many instructors, but still weren't sure what to expect. Soap still gave you flirty looks and comments, but overall he was a good teacher, albeit harsh at times.

The first day was conditioning; a long, rigorous workout that made your heart feel like it would fly out of your chest. Despite the cold, as well as the snow coating the training grounds just east of the stables, you trained outside. At first it had been a long run, about twenty laps around the training ground. That alone had knocked quite a bit of steam out of you, but following that Soap demanded you do as many pullups as you could before failing. After the pullups you had to hold your upper body just off the ground via long armrests that your forearms stayed on, arms gripping two handles while you raised your legs up in front of you over and over again, straight out as to best strengthen your core.

By the time Soap decided it was time to see where your hand combat skills were, you wanted to whine at how unfair it was. You definitely weren't your best as you punched and swiped, but Soap made the point that, "In real combat yer enemy won' care how tired ya are."

Overall, Soap deemed your knowledge of the basics to be quite good. He said you needed to work on strength, technique, and most importantly--speed. Being only half Fae meant other Fae could overpower you quite easily. It would be nearly impossible to beat them with strength alone, but if you had reaction time and the ability to outmaneuver them, you had a good chance at winning.

So now, every morning at the crack of dawn, you crawled out of your warm bed to the training grounds, and left feeling like mashed potatoes.

Today would be no different, as Soap demanded you move faster while you drove your shoulders forward, hitting his upheld and padded hands in a series of one two, one twos. This was after the morning workout, and your arms felt tingly and weak, but Soap would take no excuses.

You also knew that working through the fatigue was what would grow your stamina and strength, so you grit your teeth like a good soldier and did your best to command your muscles to go faster, to strike out like an asp.

You didn't feel like it worked, but Soap grinned at you. "Alrigh', lass. Take a break."

Unable to summon any strength to reply, you made your way over to a makeshift bench that was actually just a bale of hay covered in coarse cloth to keep it dry. A small table had been placed next to it with a pitcher of water brought out by a servant. It had partially frozen, but you had your waterskin, so you unscrewed the cap and drank deep, chest heaving.

Soap made his way over to you, kneeling before you despite the snow that was undoubtedly soaking into his pants. He took one of your hands gingerly in his, making a noise as he saw the telltale brown-red stain of blood on the linen wraps around your knuckles. You had felt the sting of skin splitting, but it was something you were used to. Unavoidable, with how much you were practicing.

"Ya need to tell me if yer bleedin'," he scolded, as if this wasn't the third time it happened in the past week. He unwrapped your hand, revealing the mostly scabbed over wound over your middle knuckle. Another knuckle next to it had been injured the day prior, but it looked like the scab had been torn off, causing the wound to bleed again.

You made a face at the iron-rich metallic scent of your blood, never a fan. It reminded you far too much of battle. Battle smelled like blood, mud, brimstone, and death. There was no getting used to any part of it.

"I'm fine," you assured the male, flexing your fingers. "It's just a little scratch." You poured some of the ice-cold water from your skin over the wound, letting it wash away the blood, staining the snow beneath you a pale pink.

"His Majesty won' be happy if he sees I've harmed ya," he said with a grin. "As if I could stop ya."

"John knows I'm a soldier. Scrapes and bruises are unavoidable."

Soap nodded, offering you a hand. You grasped it, relishing in the warmth of his fingers as he helped you up. "Tomorrow we'll practice some grapplin' inside. Sound good?"

You beamed at the idea of being inside, away from the cold. "Yes!"

You chattered happily with Soap as you headed back to the castle, neither of you noticing the small yellow flower that rose from the ground, right where your blood soaked in.

-   -   -

Often times you had to remind yourself that you were married to John. You were his mate, something you were starting to feel for yourself now. There was always a slight pull towards John, a magnetic tug at the edge of your mind. You also felt that pull and tug with Konig, blanketed in soft security, but--you would have those conversations later.

In any case, you were a female with at least one mate. By all accounts spoken for.

But Gods...watching Kyle and Ghost spar was something else. Mostly because Kyle was shirtless, with his beautiful soft skin flushed and glowing, stretched against toned muscle. You could see each and every one of those muscles ripple when he moved, his back flexing as he raised his sword in an arc, bringing it down towards Ghost, who deflected the movement easily.

And Ghost...Ghost, who probably hated you, was in the tightest black shirt you had ever seen. It was long-sleeved, covering everything and somehow covering nothing. It clung to every curve and dip of his beautiful, broad body. He had a similar build to Konig, if not a touch more lean. You still wondered how the hell these males got muscles like that. You were hardly going to complain though, mouth nearly watering as you watched Ghost walk to the weapons rack, the movement of his hips sending shadows across his lower stomach that showed you the obscene V-line of his hips.

"Enjoying the show, princess?" Kyle called as he wiped his face and neck with a cloth, grinning broadly at you.

Dammit. You had come here to look for Kyle, wanting to borrow him as a tutor for the evening while you studied up on Alextren--the old language of Alextre, used up until a century ago when Common had become standard.

You felt another pair of eyes on you, and briefly glanced up at Ghost. His near-white eyes bored into you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the sword in his hands.

"I--sorry. I wanted to know if you would help me study tonight?"

Kyle frowned a bit. "I'm sorry princess, not tonight. We'll be heading out tonight."

Oh, that was right. At the meeting this morning a report of a dead Fae male came in. Somewhere in the woods close to town. It was most likely that he had been mauled by some wild animal, but apparently there was something strange about the body, something the messenger hadn't wished to include in writing. John assured you it was likely nothing, but the fact that he wanted to see himself gave away his true concern. Kyle was going with him, and Konig volunteered his nose, to which John surprisingly accepted.

A kernel of worry had settled in your stomach, but this time of year many beasts were searching for an easy meal. Besides, John and the others could handle themselves.

"That's right. Sorry." You moved to turn around, but Kyle stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"We can study more tomorrow. But for tonight..." His eyes drifted behind him, and you stiffened as you realized what he was about to suggest. "Ghost, would you help Lunelle study Alextren?"

"I can study by myself, Kyle, it's okay," you started, but Ghost was looking at you again.

"I can help."

Kyle's expression was so sunny you couldn't even be mad at him for suggesting it. He squeezed your wrist gently before releasing it, and you sighed. "Yeah...okay. I'll be in the library, so just come whenever."

Ghost's head dipped in the most imperceptible of nods, and you disappeared down the hall. Konig wouldn't be thrilled you were spending the evening with Ghost, but he also had to prepare to leave, and couldn't play guard for you tonight.

Not that you thought Ghost would do anything besides brood.

-   -   -

After a quick conversation with Konig that mostly involved wary yellow eyes and a warning to be careful--one that you returned--you headed to the library.

Alextren was an old language. Theodric once had an old language too, but it was as good as gone with how thoroughly the previous king--or perhaps it was two kings ago--had gone about eradicating it. You didn't even know the name of the language. Common was declared as the official language, the civilized language, and texts written in the old one were burned. Anyone heard speaking the language had their tongue cut out, and after a couple of centuries it was like it never even existed.

Alextre, on the other hand, had only switched to Common as their main source of communication about a thousand years ago. A very long time, yes, but not long enough that it was forgotten.

Other kingdoms, like the one Konig hailed from, still kept their old languages while also using Common. You could remember meeting Konig for the first time, hearing the slight lilting accent lacing his Common. The accent still slipped out on certain words, or when he was sleepy or drunk. You found it endearing though, and wished he never rid himself of it entirely.

However, here it seemed like Alextren was not the standard anymore. Kyle told you most Fae in Alextre could still speak it, except for perhaps the youngest generation.

John knew it, Kyle knew it, though Kyle admitted he wasn't very good at speaking. His parents were speakers, and often used it at home, but never taught him formally and he mostly responded to them in Common. As a result, he knew the basics, but didn't count himself as fluent. It was more than enough to help you out at your beginning stages, though.

Soap also knew Alextren, though he explained that since the village he grew up in was so far away from central Alextre, far to the north, the Alextren he knew was warped, the pronunciations and some minor grammar being different. While he could understand standard Alextren, and most fluent speakers of Alextren understood him, he would be no good to you as a teacher.

You hadn't asked Ghost about his Alextren knowledge, but since Kyle volunteered him as your tutor...that answered that.

You weren't sure when the wraith would grace you with his presence, so you sat down at a long table tucked between two rows of packed shelves, and opened your book on the Alextren alphabet. It was deceptively complicated. Some letters looked similar to those in Common, but the pronunciations were entirely different, and it always tricked your brain. Alextren sounded similar to Common and yet entirely different, with slight changes to vowels and intonation.

You had done your best to phonetically write pronunciations of the letter names and sounds, but practicing on your own was incredibly difficult.

You wrote a few rows of letters while you waited for Ghost, but it seemed like he was taking his sweet time. Huffing out a sigh, you decided studying sentence structure would be a better use of your time, so you headed to the section dedicated to the language.

There were rows and rows of ancient tomes in the library, many Kyle told you had been banned in Theodric, and you were itching to get your hands on them and consume their contents. But they were in Alextren, so you really had no choice but to study.

Fingers skimming the spines of books, your eyes danced across the titles, searching for the one you needed. You pulled one book out, flipped through it, then decided it wasn't what you wanted. Placing it back, your finger slipped up the spine of the book next to it, tipping it from the shelf. Right as you were about to pull it from the shelf, you heard a floorboard creak behind you. You sensed some sort of presence behind you, and whirled around.

Instinct took over, and as you whirled around, you raised the thick book above your head in an attempt to use it to bludgeon, a flash of light your brain couldn't process momentarily stunning you, but a firm hand was wrapped around your wrist, halting the motion.

One blink, and your brain accessed the black clothing, the mask, the pale gray eyes. Two blinks, and you were frowning deeply at Ghost. "You should learn to make some noise. It's not good to sneak up on people like that."

"My apologies, Your Majesty."

You blanched at the title as always, but loosened your wrist. "Just be lucky that was a book in my hand instead of a blade, Ghost."

"Noted. Now, would you mind releasing me, Your Majesty?" Ghost sounded bored.

"Releasing? You grabbed me, if you..." You turned back towards him, but your words died on your tongue as you realized what he meant.

Ghost's hand was still raised in the air where it had halted your attempt at knocking him out with Syntax and Semantics in modern Alextren, Fourth Edition. But holding that hand in place was a thick, dark green vine. Your eyes traced the vine down, marking where it curled around his bicep, further down where it wrapped around his torso, across his hips, both of his sturdy legs, and to its point of origin, sprouting from between the floorboards. The wood had split to make room for the flora, as if the vine had burst from the ground.

You stared dumbly at the leafy bindings, and Ghost made a noise. "Any day now."

"That wasn't me." Your voice rang in your ears, sounding far away. "I--I can't summon like that. I can barely grow an ear of corn, let alone a whole vine like that in the winter! I'm not powerful enough."

Ghost sighed, sounding infinitely patient. "I see no other earth magic wielders besides you, Your Majesty. Now, if you would please..."

You hesitantly held a hand out, flinching as if scared what would happen, your hand lowering down. The vine obeyed, leaves shrinking as it sank back down between the floorboards. "How?" you whispered, mostly to yourself.

The wraith eyed you, as if contemplating. They widened a fraction, as if in realization, but the expression was wiped a second later. Turning his face away, he moved past you. "Perhaps you have not grown into your full power."

"I don't have that much power. A priest came and tested me a few years ago." You blinked.

Ghost didn't miss a beat. "Then the priest was wrong. Or it was a self-defense reflex. Your magic might not be strong enough to summon like that regularly if you truly have reached your full power, but in self preservation it is possible."

"N-no, I..." You stared at your hands as if they had the answers written in the familiar lines that crisscrossed your palms. "I can only summon under very specific circumstances. I have to visualize what I want to grow, then I have to be touching the soil, and even then it's usually pathetic." Your eyes found Ghost's again, full of quiet desperation.

"Like I said, self-defense. It is not uncommon, Your Majesty." But he was quick to look away, jaw clenching beneath his mask. "Did you want to study or not?"

Dazed, you sat down again and tried your best to study, but your mind was far away. Ghost explained basic sentence structure to you three times before deciding he gave up. He snapped the book shut, and you mumbled an apology as you reached for the volume. Your hand brushed one of his, the male's hands for once bare of his usual gloves, and he yanked his arm back like you scalded him. You were about to apologize for that too, but he just said a quick "Goodnight, Your Majesty," before quite literally turning into shadow and disappearing. Wraith indeed.

-   -   -

You didn't sleep well. At breakfast, it was eerily quiet. Soap had cancelled sparring practice that morning since he needed to be in the castle when John and the others came back. He quickly ate breakfast before pecking you on the cheek and heading off.

Ghost didn't show up for breakfast, or lunch.

You did your best to busy yourself, to not think about what happened with your magic the day prior.

But it didn't work. Your first stop was the library. You wanted to see if perhaps the vine had sprouted from the wooden floorboards, but no. There was a clear split in the wood, only darkness visible through the crack.

Unable to stop yourself, and with no one to stop you, you hurried outside to the garden. It was of course barren during this time of year. You saw some lumps that were probably bushes, as well as a few archways. Everything else was covered in too much snow to make out any discernable shapes.

You had hurried out so fast you hadn't even thought of a cloak, but you sank to your knees nonetheless. No cloak meant no gloves, but you wouldn't need them for what you wanted to do.

The snow beneath your legs had begun to melt and seep into your dress, slowly making its way through your layers and to your skin. You ignored the discomfort, pawing at the snow in front of you, desperately clearing it away. Your hands turned pink and stung with the bite of cold, your breath coming out in puffs of white as you dug, searching for the soil beneath.

Naturally, the ground was frozen. Something in your magic recoiled, but you put your hands down nevertheless. Taking a deep breath of the sharp winter air, you closed your eyes. You felt your kernel of power warm in your chest as you tried to imagine something simple, something that could grow here; a potato. You imagined the root structure, the shape of the leaves and their purple flowers. Your magic buzzed, sending waves of power through your hands, searching. You felt it grow and grow...until it suddenly fizzled out.

Your breath left you in a whoosh of disappointment. That was what usually happened when you tried to summon under unfavorable circumstances: a whole lot of nothing. You sat back and stared at your pink hands, then at the dark, frozen soil.

A wave of determination steeled you as you pushed your hands against the soil again and visualized a mushroom instead, but to the same result. Over and over, you attempted to summon, to grow. Each time you failed, limbs trembling from both the cold and the strain of trying to use your magic.

Kyle found you like that about two hours later, skirt completely soaked, hands red and mostly numb, body trembling from exertion. The winter months brought darkness early, and the sun had already dipped behind the mountains, causing the temperature to drop with it.

"Princess!" he called, undoing his cloak and fastening it around your shoulders. "What are you doing out here? Alone, and without your cloak? It's dangerous to be out too long like this. You could lose your fingers or nose!" Kyle took your hands in his, and his caramel eyes turned amber. With the change, his hands warmed as well.

Kyle lead you inside, and your fingers pricked painfully as the feeling returned. He brought you to the parlor, sitting you down in front of the fire. His eyes once more shifted to amber as the fire flared and rose, and you wondered for a moment why his eyes changed like that. You knew other fire gifted Fae but couldn't recall their eyes doing anything similar.

"Why were you outside by yourself, with no cloak or anything to protect you from the cold?" he demanded with a frown, squeezing your hands as your body shuddered.

"I..." Words felt hard to form, your lips still partially numb. You licked them, then slowly told him what happened in the library.

The panther shifter nodded in understanding as you told him everything, feeling slowly returning to your extremities. But he didn't seem nearly as stricken as you felt. "I know it was shocking for you, but Ghost is probably right, princess. In other times of danger, were you armed?"

You paused, then slowly nodded. "The only other times I've been in danger like that--besides being bullied as a kid--were in battle. So I always had my sword."

"You were bullied?" He frowned, but moved on. "Well, there you have it. You didn't have a weapon this time, since a book definitely does not count, so your magic responded in a way to keep you safe." He lifted a hand to your cold, pink cheek, and you caught a whiff of his vanilla-bourbon scent off the pulse at his wrist.

You leaned into his warmth, but decided to drop the subject. None of these males would understand--not even Konig. None of them were half Fae, none of them knew what it was like to only have a miniscule amount of power only for it to spike suddenly. Like maybe you weren't as powerless, as useless as you always thought. It was like scalding claws of hope or desperation or both had hooked into you, and you wanted nothing more than that possibility that you were more.

Even if Soap could only shift, he was still full-blooded Fae. He didn't have only a tiny drop of any other power. Your small gift of earth magic was only enough to taunt you, to remind you that you were not entirely Fae, and would always be pathetic. Powerless.

It was not something you admitted to yourself often, this oily feeling. It often lead to jealousy towards other Fae, and you had tried your damnedest to get rid of those thoughts, but...it was hard. You were powerful in your own way; you were talented with a sword, you were strong, you were intelligent, and brave. But none of that truly ever erased the dark, swirling thoughts of being less than. It was a nasty, rotten part of you that lived deep inside you, next door to all the comments about being a half-breed.

"Oh no," Kyle whispered, looking mildly panicked. You realized it was because you were crying, and Kyle was quick to gather you in his arms, running warm hands down your back, petting your wild hair. 

Eventually Konig found you, face tear-streaked and half asleep, in Kyle's arms by the fire. He got a quick rundown of the story you told Kyle, and understanding filled his luminous eyes.

"I'm going to take her to bed," Konig said to Kyle. "Can you ask Alton to send some soup or broth up to her room? Oh--and dessert."

Kyle blinked as Konig lifted you, transferring you from his arms to Konig's. "Yes. I will...go do that now." Kyle spent one moment longer looking at you before Konig was taking you away.

"You don't need your father's level of power to be powerful, Luney," Konig murmured to you as he settled you in bed. Konig had been there for previous breakdowns of yours. He was no stranger to the complex thoughts you had about yourself and your own self-worth.

"It just...it makes me hope," you whispered. "Maybe I haven't grown into my full power after all."

Konig didn't respond to that, merely sitting on the bed next to you and taking one of your hands in his. You sighed softly, feeling tiredness settle deep in your bones. 

Despite Ghost and Kyle--and probably Konig--all believing your magic was due to some instinct you had, you still didn't believe it to be the truth. Even putting your buried thoughts of power being related to your worth aside, something in the back of your mind was nagging at you.

It might have been instinct, but that wasn't all. There had to be something else.

And you were going to find out.

Chapter Text

Konig was humoring you, and though you knew he--as well as the others--still believed your burst of magic to be nothing more than self-defense, you had no intention of leaving every possibility unexplored.

Magic was like a muscle, after all. You had to work it, train it to bend to your will. Perhaps you just needed to train the imaginary muscle.

That was how you ended up in the library with a pot of soil in front of you. Stacks of books rested around you, with Konig staring at you intently, large arms crossed over his broad chest.

You spent most of your time in the library these days, when you weren't out training with Soap or in court sessions. In the afternoon you read up on magic, trying to find any mention of Fae who took longer than others to grow into their power. There were some mentions of power transferring as nobility took up their predecessor's position, but that had nothing to do with what you were searching for.

You asked John about it, and he suggested you look in the library. He seemed to think there might be more mentions of power in the older texts...the ones written in Alextren. So more Alextren study it was.

Ghost had not graced you with his fine tutelage again, but you much preferred Kyle or John, anyway. When the two males were busy, you studied on your own. Konig joined you, also interested in the language, and he did have the better brain for it.

But for now you held the small pot of soil in your hands, a book open next to you on Alextre plants. You managed to grow one thing--a type of winter yam. At first you nearly squealed with excitement when you saw the sprout grow, but Konig had to bring you back down and remind you that it was a winter yam. Meaning, it was in season and native. Your magic was operating within its usual confines. That had taken the wind right out of you, as well as sting your eyes with disappointment.

Konig apologized, but you appreciated him grounding you.

"Luney, it's lunchtime. How about we clean up and go eat?" Konig was gentle as he stood, gathering some of the books into his arms.

Your brain felt like gelatin, so you nodded. You took the remaining books and began returning them to their homes. Konig was directly behind you, a solid wall of warmth and muscle caging you in as his long arms shelved the books that belonged on the higher tiers.

His scent wrapped around you, making your eyes slip shut as you inhaled deeply. Leather and something floral. He smelled like home, and you couldn't help but lean back into him.

Konig's hands paused, but he quickly finished returning all the books to their homes, then wrapped his arms around your shoulders, his head coming down to nuzzle against your neck. The fabric of his mask was rough, but even that was wonderfully familiar.

"I feel so desperate," you murmured. "Like someone is dangling a carrot in front of me and I'm starving."

Konig slowly turned you towards him, pinning your back to the bookshelf. His eyes pinned yours, one of his large hands reaching up to cup your cheek. He had foregone gloves, and his palms were warm and calloused. "I will help however I can. But like I've always said, Luney, the amount of earth magic you have doesn't change anything about who you are, and the things you can do."

"I know," you nearly snapped before you lowered your voice, eyes going downcast. "I know, Konig. It's just...hard."

"I get that." He tilted your face back up to his, and as you peered into his citrine eyes, your heart ached. There was a tug, slightly painful, that pulled at your very soul. The only thing that felt like it could fix it was being closer, so you wrapped your arms around the wolf's waist, pressing your head against his chest. His heart thudded against your ear, strong and steady.

Konig blew out a sigh, fingers tangling into your hair. His mask brushed against the top of your head, and you decided it was annoying. "Can I..." you started, one hand lifting.

Konig blinked down at you, but nodded ever so slightly. You lifted his mask up over his face, sighing at the familiar sight. You saw Konig without his mask when you ate together occasionally, but that was the extent of it.

You missed the cut of his jaw, the stubble, the curl of his hair. Unable to help yourself, you reached up and cupped his cheeks in both of your hands, and Konig's eyes widened. "Luney," he said, and your name was both a warning and a plea.

You swallowed, throat bobbing. You were married. You knew that. Your loyalties should be with John, but...the longer you stared at Konig, the more your heart sang for him. You were drowning, and the only thing that could give you air was this male in front of you.

"Please," you whimpered out.

The one word was all it took to break Konig. His eyes melted into pools of warmth as he dipped his head down, and half a breath later his lips were on yours. Kissing Konig felt so deliciously right you couldn't even bring yourself to feel guilty about it.

His lips were warm and soft, but firm as they coaxed yours into a rhythm. The stubble on his chin, cheeks, and upper lip scraped your skin ever so slightly. He tasted sweet and slightly bitter, like the coffee he drank this morning. The kiss felt like an unleashing, and Konig groaned into your mouth as his hands traveled down your body. They traced the shape of your waist, then dipped down over your ass. He gave your rear a squeeze that made you mewl before his hands found the backs of your thighs.

Konig's large hands easily grabbed a hold of your thighs, biceps bulging as he lifted you up. You were now the same height as him, skirt hiking up around your hips as you wrapped your legs around Konig's waist, locking your ankles.

"Gods, Luney," he grunted against your mouth, biting your lower lip and sliding his tongue over it after to ease the sting. "We really shouldn't."

"I know," you responded, sucking his tongue into your mouth, receiving a low moan as a reward. "But I can't--I can't, Konig."

You couldn't voice exactly what it was you couldn't, but Konig seemed to understand. He moved on from your mouth to trace the shape of your jaw, lips traveling down your neck in a trail of kisses that felt like fire. Your fingers tangled into his soft curls, tugging on them. He growled in response, the sound entirely animalistic. It shot fire straight into your belly, your hips rolling on their own accord.

"Fuck," Konig cursed. "Mein Mond, I want nothing more than to take you right here, in this library. But we shouldn't."

You couldn't stop the slimy feeling of disappointment as you frowned at him. You leaned back to look at the wolf. His lips were puffy and slightly red, there was color high on his cheeks, and his pupils were blown out. You must have looked similar, because another low growl left him as he studied you.

"Konig, I..." You gulped. You honestly had the feeling for a while, but it was undeniable now. "I think we're mates."

The words were all it took for Konig's pupils to blow out even more, another low growl grumbling through his chest. The feral promise of that growl made you shudder, core clenching in need. There was no other way to explain the tug you felt towards Konig, the ease that settled into you when he was around. When you were this close to him, your mind buzzed with raw need. Your very bones chanted that Konig was mine, mine, mine. The thought of another female coming near him made you want to bare your teeth.

"Mate," Konig breathed, nosing at your neck, searching for your pulse where the scent was strongest. He lapped at you, making you shiver. You felt the scrape of his teeth, and stiffened. Instinct was telling him to mark you, to sink his teeth into you.

You understood, having the same feeling. But... "I think John is my mate, too," you whispered.

That was enough to sober Konig, who pulled back and blinked at you. "Are you sure? It's not just fondness?"

"No." You shook  your head. "I just...you just know, right? I feel it with him, too. I'm sorry."

Konig shook his head, stroking your cheek. "No need to be sorry, Luney. If he really is your mate, and he feels the same thing that I feel...I can't blame either of you. None of us asked for this. I still would love to know why the Fae in Theodric pretend only full-blooded Fae have mates, or why we've never heard of having multiple mates, but..." His massive shoulders rose in a shrug. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't give you up as my mate, either. Not for one damned minute." He punctuated the remark with a soft kiss to your lips, and the tangle of anxiety in your chest unraveled a bit.

"I need to talk to John,"  you decided. "Maybe...maybe we can figure something out."

"Yeah." Konig didn't sound too sure. He gently put you down back onto the floor, pulling his mask down as you straightened your clothes out.

It seemed it was finally time for you to confront the mating issue.

-   -   -

Konig offered to be with you while you talked to John, and you appreciated it, but wanted to have the talk with John in private, just as you were able to tell Konig in private.

You sat in John's study, on the other side of his desk. He had pulled his chair around the large oak affair, claiming he felt like a schoolmaster scolding a student with the desk separating you. So he sat just to your right, leaning forward with his forearms braced on his strong thighs.

"If I had to wager a guess, judging by the scent on you, this is about Konig," John said.

You hadn't even realized you'd smell that much stronger of the wolf. Your scents were probably always layered over each other's from being so close, but...kissing, having his mouth on your neck, probably made it a bit obvious what you had done. Your cheeks turned red in shame. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to betray your trust but it just--I couldn't--"

"Lunelle," John cut you off calmly, reaching for one of your hands and squeezing it gently. "He is your mate, is he not?"

You stared at him, at the soft understanding in his cerulean eyes. All you could do was nod. John gave your hand another squeeze. "He has been saying so since you both got here. I did not sense any lie in his words. No one has heard of someone with multiple mates, but we can hardly tell what the Gods think when they decide our fates. It seems like you finally listened to your own instincts."

Nodding, your head dipped down. John's hands were warm, slightly scarred. You still wondered what kinds of Fae gifts he held. He could perform many small magics, but you knew his true talents likely rested somewhere else. 

"It just feels right with him," you said with a soft sigh. "But, John, you're..." You met his eyes again, and he looked like he already knew what you were going to say, but you continued anyway. "You're my mate too. I know that. I feel the same sense of being right with you."

A voice at the back of your head nagged, telling you that you felt right with other males, too. But none of them had declared themselves your mate, and surely that was far too large a coincidence.

"I know," John said with a small smile. "So you are here to ask me for permission to be with your other mate as well?"

You felt dirty when he said it like that, and winced. But you nodded.

John was quiet for a moment, but eventually he spoke. "You have my blessing, Lunelle. I will admit that at first I felt quite a bit of jealousy and possessiveness, but as I told you when you asked to sleep with the pup...I cannot take that away from the two of you. It would be cruel. Your relationship with him has little to do with your relationship with me, for the most part. You will have one more male that is entirely devoted to you, who I know beyond all doubt can keep you safe. I can share."

Light filled your chest, a hope sparking there you never thought possible. You felt selfish, and confused, but...you were all adults. There was no sneaking around, you laid everything out to both of the males. They saw your soul bared, and accepted the truth you offered.

"Lunelle, try not to look so relieved," John joked, chuckling as he lifted your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "As if you thought I might break your heart and deny you your other mate."

"I didn't know what to expect." You loosened a breath. "But thank you, John. Really."

He smiled at you, lines splaying around the corners of his eyes. You returned it, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Since you've accepted the mating bond," John murmured, "can I mark you soon?"

You weren't sure how getting marked by two males would work, but you nodded. "Yes. Soon. And I can mark you?"

John's answering grin was wide. "I would love nothing more."

-   -   -

Despite still not understanding what was wrong with your magic, your steps felt lighter as you walked around the castle with Konig a constant shadow behind you.

You no longer felt the need to hide your attraction or need for him, no longer felt guilty that you harbored such feelings while laying in John's arms.

You continued studying Alextren, usually always with Kyle. He helped you out, and while you silently studied he was busy looking through the older texts in the library, searching for answers about both your powers and your two mates.

Just because it was unheard of in recent years, it didn't mean no one ever had experienced this. Since Alextre's nobility fell, record keeping also fell through the cracks. But John recalled that mates used to be required to report their status, and those records were somewhere in the library. Kyle offered, since he was in the library every night with you anyway.

The first time he brought a giant tome--there was no other word for it--to the table, you had jumped at the sound. The tome was massive, about three times the length of a normal book, and twice as wide. It was full of names, and Kyle whistled as he read the dates. "Bloody hell, some of these families were wiped out a long time ago," he mused.

"Any people listed with two mates in there?" you asked, peeking at the aged paper. It looked thin and fragile, the sweeping script of Alextren even more foreign to you than the simplified version. "Can you read this?"

Kyle frowned. "With difficulty, yes. John would have an easier time, but I shouldn't need to read everything to find what we're looking for." He looked at you, grinning. "Don't worry, princess, we'll look through every dusty record in this place."

"Thank you." You placed a hand over Kyle's, and his eyes flashed amber before he blinked and they were chocolate again.

You almost felt bad for Kyle, his brows pinched as he scanned rows and rows of names. Konig glanced over occasionally, but his Alextren was no better than yours, so he quickly looked away again.

"Does it matter if it's happened before?" Konig asked, clearly unable to concentrate on his verb conjugations. "You have two mates. We know that for a fact. So what if you're the first?"

Kyle answered for you. "It's mostly just helpful if we have a precedent to compare things to. Like was there a reason? A pattern? Was two the max, or were there more?" His lithe shoulders hunched over as he came close to the paper to read a particularly jumbled group of names. "No worries, pup, I don't think anyone wants to delegitimize your claim."

Konig rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Not what I'm worried about, kitty-cat."

Kyle chuckled at the returned jab, continuing to skim the pages. "I'll happily stop if His Majesty or Lunelle ask me to."

"Let him do it," you sighed, stretching your hand. Your hand cramped after writing the unfamiliar letters for too long, your hand straining to form the shapes properly and legibly. "It can't hurt to know if we're the first or not. Helps me sort out my feelings, too."

Kyle gave you a soft smile at that, and Konig was silent. "You're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry, Luney. I didn't even think of how it must be for you, having two mates, feeling that way for both of us."

"There's nothing wrong with you, princess," Kyle assured gently. "Even if you are the first."

"Just keep looking," you mumbled. You wanted to look through the old books on magic, but that tricky Alextren would prove to be an issue. Even if you learned Alextren, you doubted you would be able to understand any archaic language, but it was a start.

You kept studying, squinting at the page as you did your best to sound out a sentence. You puffed out your cheeks, glancing to the panther shifter. "Kyle, help."

"Hm?" He looked up, blinking at you a few times.

"I can't pronounce this word," you said, pointing to the word in question. It was the word for chair.

Kyle smiled at you and pronounced it for you, and you tried to copy him, only to fail. Kyle repeated it again, slower, and once more you failed.

"You need to widen your mouth and relax your tongue," he suggested. "Watch my lips." Once more, he slowly pronounced the word. You watched the way his lips stretched wide over the long vowel, continuing to watch his lips as his tongue darted out to wet them.

His lips really did look very soft. They were probably warm as well, and--you shook your head to snap yourself out of it. You were not just thinking about kissing Kyle when you only just came to peace with having two mates. That did not mean you had free reign to go kissing John's entire court.

"Princess?" he called, concerned.

"Oh." You blinked, then pronounced the word again, copying the shape of his lips. It came out much nicer this time, and you were stunned.

"That was wonderful," the panther praised with a big smile, and you sucked down a breath to brace against what that smile did to you.

Konig watched the entire interaction carefully, yellow eyes never missing anything. He gave you a look that said you would talk later, and you only needed to give him a single nod to show you understood.

-   -   -

Telling John that you would be taking dinner in your room with Konig was a lot easier now that everything was out in the open.

He didn't give you any nasty looks, didn't make any comments. He merely said he understood, and that he would see you later. 

So you sat in your room with Konig, his mask off as you both ate. Tonight, Alton had made a rich chicken and dumpling soup, making use of the root vegetables the castle depended on during the winter, bulking it out with finely diced potatoes and doughy dumpling balls.

"So..." Konig started, not even bothering to blow on his soup before taking a big mouthful. You marveled at how he managed to do such a thing without scalding the roof of his mouth while you diligently blew on your spoonful. "Kyle."

You blinked, refusing to meet his eyes. "What about Kyle?"

"Do you like him?" he asked plainly.

You sighed, dropping your spoon. "Konig, I'm not sure. Kyle is attractive. He's also very kind, considerate, and a good male. I like him as a male. If you're asking if he's my mate, or if my eyes are starting to wander since I have you and John...no. " At least, you hoped Kyle wasn't your mate. There was no way. Two was absolutely insane, and any more than that was something out of a smutty novel the noble ladies back in Theodric ate up.

The wolf nodded. "Okay." And that was the end of that discussion.

You finished eating and played a round of cards, but your hands kept landing on Konig's strong hands, noting the way they flexed, how they dwarfed the cards.

You swallowed thickly. Gods, were you just horny? Though you had also heard of a craze that tended to take over Fae once they accepted the mating bond, acknowledging it and no longer fighting it. Some couples stayed in their rooms for weeks.

And now all you could do was stare at Konig's hands and imagine them in all sorts of places. Your mouth, around your neck, inside. Your breath caught, and Konig's gaze snapped to yours. He inhaled deeply, and you knew your arousal was embarrassingly obvious.

"Luney," he said slowly, setting the cards down. "Can I help you with something?"

Konig stood to his full height, and your mouth watered at the size of him. There was something incredibly appealing about the way he dwarfed you, the all-consuming feeling of Konig. You were a warrior, and a strong woman, but with Konig you could feel feminine, in a sexual sense. However, a new feeling was rising up inside of you. You wanted Konig, but you wanted him underneath you.

"Yes, you can help me," you replied, standing and sticking your chin out. "Get on the bed."

Konig's brows lifted, but he obeyed you, much to your pleasure. Konig slowly laid back on your bed, nearly taking up the entire thing. Feeling brave, you moved onto the bed as well, crawling over the wolf and sitting down above his hips. Konig's hands moved to hold your hips, but in a second you had a hand around his throat. "No touching unless I say you can. Arms above your head."

The shifter's eyes blazed as he took in the position he was in, his body slowly obeying you. He placed his arms above his head, and you worried if perhaps grabbing his neck like that was too much. But you shifted your hips and felt something incredibly hard pressing against you. That answered that.

"I'm in charge," you said with more bravado than you felt. "But if I do anything that hurts, or makes you uncomfortable..."

Konig read the plea in your eyes, and nodded. "I will say something. But I trust you. Take what you need."

Take what you need.

The words ignited a fire in you, and you leaned over Konig, taking his wrists in both of your hands to keep them pinned to the bed as your lips connected. Konig answered your hunger with his own, the sounds coming from his throat absolutely animalistic. You nipped and tugged at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth. The whine you received encouraged you, and you moved your attention to one of Konig's ears.

Your lips skimmed the shell, breathing over it, and that was enough to make Konig's huge body arch off the bed. When your tongue joined the mix, tracing the outer edge of his ear, Konig's breathing was uneven, his hips twitching under you. You bit his earlobe gently, pressing a kiss to his ear before you sank lower, peppering kisses over his throat, his adam's apple bobbing.

But you were getting impatient, and soon you were tugging at your clothes, at fastenings and bindings, undoing the knots and pulling the fabric free. Konig watched with hungry eyes, but he obeyed and remained still as you stripped yourself. Soon you were naked over him, your bare skin pressing into the various holsters and soft armor he wore even inside the castle.

Honestly, seeing Konig's strong form strapped and covered in weapons was incredibly attractive to you, even though you knew it shouldn't be. You also knew how skilled he was with each and every one of those blades, another trait you found sexy.

Fingering his belt, and the daggers strapped there, you rolled your hips over Konig while you undid the belt, slowly getting the weapons off of him. The armor came off too, and so did his shirt. His upper half was bare for you now, and you shivered as you leaned down and your nipples brushed against his chest.

"Luney," Konig murmured. "I want to touch you."

You grinned at him as you trailed a hand over one of your supple breasts, Konig's eyes tracking the movement. "Then ask nicely."

He swore, something in his native language. It was low and growly and the sound shot right to your core. "Please," he growled. "Please let me touch you, Lune."

"I guess you've been good," you allowed, taking his hands and leading them to your chest.

Konig eagerly massaged the mounds, teasing at your nipples by pinching and tugging. Soft whimpers escaped you, the whimpers turning into moans as Konig's mouth came down around one pert nipple, eagerly lapping and sucking.

All you could do was clutch at Konig's shoulders, his head, your fingers tangling into his mess of curls. He continued to pay both of your breasts plenty of attention, dragging his mouth and tongue over each and every spot, and eventually your body demanded more.

Konig must have sensed it, because his eyes met yours. "Sit on my face," he said, quickly adding a "please."

You blinked at him, bewildered. "Sit? Like...hover? Or sit?"

"Sit," he repeated, laying down and moving down on the bed so you'd have room.

"Konig, are you sure?" you asked, even as you slowly moved into position, right over his face. "What if you suffocate?"

"Then I will die the happiest man in this realm," he answered, hooking his hands around your thighs as you settled your core over his face. "It will be fine, Lune, just--fuck. Hinsetzen."

You could guess what that last part meant, so you obeyed. You grabbed onto your headboard and lowered down onto Konig until he held quite a bit of your weight. You instantly felt his hot breath on you, then his lips, and then his tongue. You gasped, sparks shooting through you as Konig eagerly dragged his tongue through your folds, lapping at your clit.

Your legs shook from the pleasure, grip turning white-knuckled on the headboard. Konig's mouth was absolutely divine. Every time you looked down, you could see his mop of curls, eyes closed in bliss as he moved his head, tongue working to please you. You felt him shift under you, and as you glanced back you saw that his hips were rolling into the air, desperate for some friction. Seeing his body react this way from just pleasuring you made a white-hot flame of arousal shoot through you, and you could feel your pleasure start to build.

"Konig, I'm--fuck," you said, your hips moving on their own as you began to ride Konig's tongue. He was all too happy to let you, flattening his tongue against your clit and groaning, sending vibrations through your core.

A few more jerks of your hips, and you came with a cry of Konig's name. Your legs spasmed, but Konig's large hands were there to brace them for you. He languidly lapped at your pussy, cleaning you of your release entirely.

"You taste divine," Konig nearly purred, making you wonder if he was a wolf or a cat.

The compliment made your ears burn, and you slowly moved off of Konig to find your slick coating his chin. Konig swept it away with his tongue like you were a treat too decadent to miss any crumb, and watched you with molten eyes.

You felt shaky, but you needed Konig inside of you. You tugged off his pants, once more in awe at the sheer size of the male. He was thick and hot in your hand when you stroked him, and you couldn't resist licking up the clear bead at the tip.

"As much as I would love for you to pleasure me, Luney, I really need to be inside of you," he groaned. "Please, let me fuck you."

Hearing him beg like that made some primal part of you absolutely glow. But honestly, you were just as needy, and fulfilling his wish was more than agreeable. Konig moved like he wanted move on top of you, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him. "Let me," you said simply.

Konig watched every movement as you moved over his hips. He suckled on your breasts while you pushed a few fingers into yourself, knowing you'd need the prep. One of Konig's joined yours, then two, and you were ready.

Konig sucked off your slick from his fingers and yours, keeping your fingers pressed to his tongue while you impaled yourself on him. Konig was thick, and long, and he filled you up perfectly, reaching the very deepest parts of you. Once you reached the hilt there was a slight pain, but you enjoyed it, knowing it meant Konig was buried in your walls.

"My mate," you whispered as you rolled your hips once, twice, and then began to set a pace.

You pulled your fingers from the wolf's mouth, watching his expressions. Konig in pleasure was a piece of art, a marble sculpture that belonged in a museum. You wanted to memorize the image forever, a deep sense of satisfaction settling in you knowing that this was your mate.

Despite all of your training, your legs eventually grew tired. So Konig bent you over the bed and entered you from behind, a hand on your lower stomach to hold you up against his hips, his cock hitting you at an impossibly deep angle.

"Konig, Konig, Konig," you chanted, losing the ability to think as his other hand wrapped around your throat. He leaned in to nip at your ear, breath hot against your neck. You felt him lick at the base of your throat, near the curve where your neck met your shoulder. The lick felt like a question, and you nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, please."

That was all Konig needed before his expression turned absolutely lupine. His teeth elongated, then sank into your soft skin. You gasped, your release barreling through you. Stars were bursting behind your eyelids, and if Konig didn't have such a firm grip on you, you knew you'd crumble to the ground.

The wolf moved away from your neck after soothing the wound with his tongue. You knew there would be two pretty, silver-white scars from his teeth, and sighed out in bliss at the thought.

"My turn," Konig murmured as he laid you down on your back. Your arms looped around his neck, and Konig was once more pushing into you.

You had a vague sense that you had wanted to take charge tonight, deciding to take it back. You licked at Konig's neck, wrapping your arms around his hips. "That's it," you breathed. "Good boy, Konig. Good boy."

The praise seemed to make his hips snap into you even harder, and you chuckled breathily into the male's ear. "Konig, I want you to do something for me. Okay?"

"Anything." The word was a whine. "Anything for you, Luney. I'll give you whatever you want."

You hoped that was true. "I want your knot," you whispered, and Konig's hips paused as he pulled back a bit to look at you, eyes wide. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Knot me while I mark you."

Then the heat came back, and Konig was rutting into you like an animal. You supposed he was a wolf, after all, and he gave into his more primal urges during sex. You could feel the base of his cock flaring, swelling, and Konig was gentle as he pushed it into you, then out. Eventually though, it got too big to pull out again. The stretch was unimaginable, enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull.

"Bitte," Konig murmured as his knot settled into you.

You didn't know what that meant, but you got the message well enough. You pulled him in close and sank your teeth into his neck, your slightly longer-than-usual canines piercing his skin. You didn't like the smell of blood, but you found that Konig's tasted divine, like mulled wine.

That was all it took for Konig to spill into you a moment later with a cry, his head hanging against your chest as you licked at your marking, sealing the wounds. A kiss to the mark, and you felt Konig twitch in you, releasing even more.

You held Konig in your arms, rubbing his sweat-slick back and petting his hair while he panted, calming down. "How long does the knot last?" you asked.

"Not sure. Maybe thirty minutes?" he guessed, grabbing your hips and rolling you over so your weight was settled on top of him instead of the other way around, your bodies remaining connected by his knot.

Konig peppered kisses over your shoulder, holding onto you tight. You stayed like that, even when Konig's knot calmed down enough to slip out of you. Bathing was deemed too much work, so you fell asleep in your mate's arms, feeling happy, sated, and very grateful for that special pot of tea Alton--likely suggested by John--sent up with your dinner.

Chapter Text

John's eyes are narrowed in on your neck, at the two silver marks just between your neck and shoulder. Konig is sporting matching marks, but that hardly makes you feel any better right now.

"Now, Lunelle, when I agreed we could be civil about this and share, I do not recall mentioning I also relinquished the honor of marking you first," he said, voice icily calm.

You flinched, opening your mouth, but Konig beat you to it. "It was the heat of the moment. I marked her first, it was my fault."

"Konig, we both know that is not how marking works. Both parties must be willing, or else the mark would fade. Not only that, but your scents have...intertwined." He steepled his fingers. "I am not angry, merely disappointed. For this to work we will all have to communicate openly. As Lunelle's husband, I wished to have the honor of marking her first, since I gave you her first time, Konig. That was in everyone's best interest, I will admit. I can also acknowledge that the decision regarding the first person to make a mating mark would Lunelle's, as it is her body, but I wish I had been asked about it."

You shifted. "It really was a heat of the moment thing, John. It's not like Konig took something away from you. You can still mark me when we both feel like it's right." You frowned, a realization dawning on you. "I think you're just jealous."

"Jealous?" John's brows shot up. He slowly leaned back, as if thinking it over.

There was no other answer. He was your husband, but he did not own you. You had another mate besides him, and it wasn't like he wouldn't get to mark you eventually, anyway. Once that happened it wouldn't matter who did it first; your scent would be intertwined with his all the same. He had to be jealous of Konig. You didn't understand the big deal. Unless...

"John," you said slowly. "I know you're pretty progressive for a male, but do you think this might be some ingrained thoughts on owning your wife? You said you don't own me, but...maybe deep down you think you do?"

Konig shot you a look, but you kept your eyes on John. He was silent for a moment before sighing. "I cannot say you are entirely incorrect. I do feel a sense of...ownership over you. I do not think I have any other name for it. Fae are very territorial, as you know. I do not believe it is in our nature to share, nor our culture. Not Fae as old as I, anyway." He sighed, nodding slowly. "Alright. You are right, Lunelle. I can still mark you. You are still my mate. This changes nothing."

"Do you..." Konig started, "do you need to know when we're intimate?"

The thought of reporting your sexual activity to your other mate was embarrassing to say the least, but you waited for John's answer. He made a face, shaking his head. "No, that is between the two of you. I guess Lunelle is right. I probably have some work to do on the way I think."

You looked towards the wolf shifter. "Do you need to know when I'm intimate with John?"

Konig blinked, as if he hadn't even thought about it. "Not really, no." He cocked his head. "Though if you wanted to tell me, I wouldn't mind. I uh..." His eyes flicked to John, as if uncomfortable saying more. You reached out to squeeze his hand in reassurance. He took a breath before continuing. "I actually find it a bit of a turn-on. I thought it would make me jealous, but honestly knowing you're being taken care of, being pleasured..." He shrugged. "It pleases me. I'm happy that my mate is happy."

Well that brought a fresh stain of red to your cheeks. Your eyes widened a fraction as you looked to the king to gauge his reaction. His expression mirrored yours, minus the blush.

He let out a chuckle. "Alright. I can assure you Konig, that I take very good care of Lunelle. You would be welcome to watch sometime, if both you and Lunelle find the idea agreeable."

Oh, Gods. Your face couldn't possibly be more red. You wanted nothing more than to find a dark hole to crawl into, but honestly...the idea of Konig sitting by the bed, fully clothed, watching John thoroughly pleasure you with those bright eyes that missed nothing...it wasn't an unpleasant thought. Not at all.

You could feel the shock coming off of Konig too, but he looked at you. "Luney?"

Clearing your throat, you lifted your chin. "This is all very new to me, so I would rather not give an answer right now."

John softened immediately. "Of course. Apologies, Lunelle. I did not wish to make you or Konig uncomfortable. Merely thinking of ways for us all to have fun." He smirked a little, and you blew out a breath in an attempt to cool yourself off.

"Yeah. Got it. Thanks." You were grateful for the hand Konig had on your lower back, lending you his strength. "Are we done now?"

John's eyes raked over you slowly, as if guessing--likely scenting--exactly what his suggestion did to you. "For now."

You left the King's study with Konig, and slowly turned to the shifter. "Well," you said, "at least he stopped calling you 'pup'."

-   -   -

"You're too big!" you complained as Soap pinned you down to a soft mat again. Today's training had been moved to the afternoon due to John's talk with you and Konig this morning, so at least you got to sleep in.

You were working on grappling with Soap, trying to get out of holds he put you in on the ground. He was also teaching you how to keep people pinned down, but honestly sometimes it came down to nothing more than body weight if you couldn't find the proper leverage.

"I get tha' complaint a lot," Soap retorted cockily as he released you. You had tried for a solid five minutes to flip him over from on top of you, but to no avail. Even if you got your feet underneath you, you were no match for the way he used this legs to distribute his body weight, preventing any leverage you gained.

You panted, laying there for a moment before Soap brought your waterskin to you. You greedily gulped down the contents, sitting up and wincing as you rubbed your shoulder. You nearly dislocated it while trying to get out of his grip.

"I can't flip you over, I don't think it's possible," you complained.

Soap made a noise. "Tha' is quitter talk, lass. If one way won' work, ya find another."

"Like a dagger?" you grumbled, corking the skin.

Soap threw a grin at you. "Aye, tha' would do tha trick. In a real life scenario, ya use whatever ya got. Go for tha kill."

"You disarmed me," you reminded him, looking pointedly towards where your belt sat by the edge of the mat, containing your daggers and sword.

Soap nodded. "Don' want ya gettin' any ideas." He chuckled. "We go again."

You sighed, but you were no quitter. You nodded, tossing the waterskin aside and getting in position for Soap to pin you down again. His upper body pressed to yours, while he twisted at the hips to splay his legs out in a way that used his size to his advantage. You once more writhed under him, pushing at his arms, his face, anything you could get to without actually harming him. Soap wouldn't mind you harming him for real though, and might actually kiss you for it. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to use your full force against him yet, so you once more struggled in vain.

"Ready to tap out?" he asked, taunting you. "Little lass is trapped, eh?"

His tone and words send a wave of irritation through you. You felt heat spike through you, and light flashed. Before you could process what happened, Soap was off of you. You were about to let out a whoop of satisfaction that you finally caught him off guard and threw him off of you, but as you turned, you realized that wasn't the case at all.

A long, thin branch with tiny oval leaves was wrapped around Soap's ankle. Stunned, you followed the branch to its origin point; a small potted plant in the corner of the training gym. Your mouth popped open.

Soap was staring at you in amazement too, but a grin slowly spread across his lips. "And tha' is what I'm talkin' about, lass! You find another way! Tha' was excellent--" He cut off as he watched you sink onto the mat again, limbs trembling. He frowned, standing up and making his way over to you. The branch around his ankle fell away, but did not retreat back to the potted plant.

You stared at the limb like it was a poisonous snake, and Soap crouched down next to you, a hand on your back. "I'm guessin' this is what you were talkin' about? The power?"

You nodded, reaching out one hand to touch the branch, but recoiling before you could make contact. "My magic has never been like this, Soap. Never. I don't know what's happening."

"Self defense again?" he suggested, studying the flora like it would have the answers written in the thin bark. "Tha's what happened with Ghost, aye? Maybe it's tha same?"

"If it was that simple, it would've happened sooner," you argued. "Even in battle, when I was armed, my life was in danger countless times. If it weren't for Konig I wouldn't even be here. He always watched my back. The danger was very real. I couldn't even be sure he would always be there. I've been wounded before." The scar in your side from an arrow tingled with the memory. "It's not self defense. It can't be. This wasn't even real danger."

Soap was quiet, rubbing the stubble along his jaw. "Magic is a strange beast, princess. I cannae say I know how it works. But we'll search for answers. Together."

If the quest for finding records of other Fae with multiple mates was anything to go by, the search wouldn't be very successful. But Soap was being helpful in the only way he knew how, so you nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Soap."

"Well, trainin' is done for today," he declared, rubbing your back to help you through the adrenaline and shock coursing through you. He looked at the branch again. "Maybe try ta move it?"

You looked at him in alarm, but Soap didn't back down. Merely looked at you evenly. "We cannae get answers if ya don' try, lass."

The hand on your back was a comforting anchor as you reached for your magic, holding a hand out. To your surprise, you felt the warmth of your magic grow, buzzing at your fingertips as you commanded the branch to return. It listened, and slowly slithered back to the potted plant, disappearing into the soil. But could you do that normally? Growing was hard, but returning plants to the earth was a bit simpler since you weren't making anything, nearly returning what existed to the soil. You still didn't know how you made the branch grow and protect you like that, but at least now you know the incident with Ghost wasn't isolated.

"We can bring it up at dinner," Soap suggested. "It's happened more than once, so it's no coincidence. Maybe tha others will have ideas?"

"Maybe," you agreed, frowning at your hands as if they were foreign objects. But they weren't; they were still your hands, with the same callouses and silvery scars. For some reason that was even more frustrating.

Soap sighed as he looked at you, bringing you into his warm embrace. It did help to settle you, so you pressed into his warmth.

Soap stayed with you, walking you back to your room. He stopped in front of your door, a gentle hand on your arm. "Do ya need anything, lass? I can fetch His Majesty, or your pup if tha' is what ya'd like."

Would having them nearby help? Maybe. Konig might just brush you off again. John would listen, but you would rather tell everyone everything at once at the dinner table. So you sighed, shaking your head. "No. It's okay."

"Alrigh'. See ya soon."

"Wait." You didn't know what drove you to do it, but you reached out and put a hand on his arm. "Can you...I mean, would you stay with me? Just in my room. I'll be in the bathing room, and it's not like you'll see me naked. I just don't really want to be alone right now." Not when you weren't in control of your magic, apparently.

Soap softened. "I can do tha'. Besides, I'd be honored if I saw ya naked, princess." He smirked, but you knew he was joking.

Soap sat in one of the fluffy chairs by the fire, witling some small figure with his knife while you bathed. The hot water was relaxing, as was the lavender oil you practically dumped into the water--Alextre specialty.

But you couldn't stay stewing forever, both in the bath and in your thoughts. You checked in with your body, searching for any abnormalities. Your shoulder was sore, so were your abs, and you had a bruise on your thigh, but that was it. Nothing weird with your magic. With a great sigh you got out of the bath, dried yourself off, then dressed for dinner.

Soap was waiting for you when you came out, and offered his arm to you. You took it gladly, making your descent to the dining room.

Tonight's dinner was some kind of fish from one of the rivers that ran through the mountains. It was grilled with butter, lemon, and some kind of herb, either parsley or thyme. The fish was served with a cream stew and grilled vegetables. Filling your belly helped ease the anxiety pooling there, but you were still incredibly unsettled.

Soap was leaving it to you to bring up what happened, and you were waiting for the right timing. When that was, you weren't entirely sure. You listened to the normal conversation around the table, but you felt a pair of eyes on you. As you slowly lifted your gaze, you met Ghost's clear gray eyes. He had a bad habit of staring at you, but this gaze was more intense than usual.

Kyle glanced at you, then Ghost, and then took in your body language. "You've been quiet tonight, princess," he commented. "Is everything alright?"

Your eyes flitted to Soap's, and Ghost caught it. His brows pinched.

John must have too, because he frowned. "Did something happen during training with Soap today? Are you hurt?"

At the mention of you possibly being hurt, there was a metallic cracking sound. Everyone whirled to the sound, eyes wide as Ghost slowly released his spoon, snapped in half. Not bent. Broken.

You blinked. "No. I'm not hurt. The opposite, actually."

"Ghost?" Soap called, frowning.

Ghost leaned back, setting the spoon down. "Sorry. Guess I forgot my strength."

"I don't see how," Konig muttered from where he stood behind you. Staring at Ghost's bulging muscles, you had to agree.

"You were saying?" John called, bringing the attention back to you, though he gave Ghost a strange look.

"Oh. Um...remember how in the library, I summoned vines to hold Ghost?" You were looking at Ghost, since he was there. But he was now refusing to meet your gaze, hands splayed out on the table.

"Yes," John responded.

"Well, today I was sparring with Soap. Grappling, that kind of thing. It was impossible to move him, he's like a rock!" You huffed out. "I got frustrated and, well...I summoned again. I grew a branch from that plant in the gym. It--I guess I--pulled Soap off of me."

"Self defense again?" Kyle suggested, not unkindly.

Shaking your head, you pushed around the potato chunks on your plate. "No. Self defense makes no sense. I've been in danger plenty of times, but my magic has never saved me like this. Ask Konig, he's seen situations where my magic absolutely should have responded to save me."

The wolf was solemn. "That's true."

"Right." You chewed on your lower lip. "I don't think it's self defense, really. It has to be something else. Maybe I haven't grown into my power, but a priest came to test my power levels a few years ago. He told my father and me that I had reached my limit."

"This happened while Soap was holding you down?" Ghost asked slowly.

"Aye," Soap confirmed. "Tha' branch was like a whip."

"Do you have any ideas, Ghost?" John asked, leaning forward.

Everyone's eyes were back on the wraith, but he just gave a slight shake of his head without lifting his gaze. "I still believe it is a matter of self preservation."

"We'll look more in the library," Kyle promised, then winced. "Once I'm finished searching through the mating records."

"I appreciate it," you grumbled.

"We'll figure it out," Konig promised, coming closer to put a hand on your shoulder from behind you. "There's answers somewhere."

"Yeah, and they're all in Alextren." You sighed, putting your fork down. "I'm going to bed early. Goodnight."

A chorus of "Goodnight"s followed you as you made your way out of the dining room.

-   -   -

You woke up a couple of hours later with a dry throat. You had no idea what time it was, or how long until sunrise. You just knew you wanted water, and the pitcher in your room was empty.

With a sigh, you pulled on your fluffy dressing robe and made your way out of your rooms, heading for the kitchen. Water and a piece of cake would do you some good.

However, as you passed the other males' rooms, you heard voices. You guessed it wasn't too late if the others were still up, and started walking past.

"You cannae tell me this isn't strange," a voice--Soap's--hissed. "You know something."

"I have no idea what you are referring to," Ghost's bored voice replied.

"The lass mates her pup, then the king. Her powers start actin' strange. And now the bodies."

Bodies?

"There is likely a mountain lion or bear out and about," Ghost sighed.

Soap scoffed. "I am not stupid, Ghost. Ya aren't, either. The symbols carved on them? They're warnings. Someone isn't happy about the lass bein' here."

"She--" Ghost began, then cut off abruptly. You swore the shadows in front of you moved. "We are no longer alone in our conversation."

Your heart seized, and you quickly scuttled forward towards the kitchens. The door swung open, and you heard Soap call out. "Princess? You alrigh'?"

Shit. Slowly, you turned, trying to be nonchalant. "I'm fine. I just woke up and wanted water..." You looked down at the empty pitcher in your hand pointedly.

"Ah. Need company?"

"No." You shook your head, plastering on a small smile. "Thank you. Goodnight, Soap." You looked at the wraith. "Goodnight, Ghost."

Ghost's silver eyes narrowed, as if he knew you were eavesdropping. With those shadows at his command, he very well did.

You quickly looked away from him as Soap also bid you goodnight, hurrying down to the kitchens for water, though your stomach was turning too much to consider cake anymore.

Symbols? Carved on the bodies? None of this had been brought up at the court meetings. Konig hadn't even said anything about it. Maybe he didn't know, but...no. He went with John and Kyle to see a body. He would have seen. Not only that, but bodies? More than one? Why had no one decided to tell you any of this? You weren't sure what symbols would have anything to do with you, but Soap sounded pretty damn certain there was some connection.

You stared at the door connecting your room to John's for a long time, thinking.

Bodies with symbols carved in them. Your two mates. Your powers suddenly acting up. The timing did feel far too coincidental, which likely meant it wasn't one at all.

Your new court was hiding things from you, and you didn't like it one bit. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed one of your throwing knives from a cabinet in the corner of the room. Your fingertips pinched the tip as you stared, and stared, and stared at John's door.

-   -   -

The sound of a solid thunk woke John. His head turned towards the door connecting your room to his.

If anything was a bad sign, it was his wife throwing knives at his door.

Chapter Text

Your nails tapped against the table as you sat in on another court meeting.

"The last shipment of lumber was successfully delivered. We won't be able to send any more until the spring, when the roads clear up." Kyle handed a paper to John.

"Winter has never been forgiving," John sighed out as he took the paper, nodding as he looked over the contents.

"Any other matters of business to discuss?" Kyle asked, folding his hands on the table.

Everyone began to shake their heads, but John had his eyes on you. "Lunelle? It looks like something is bothering you."

Your fingers stopped. Slowly, you lifted your gaze. Once more, Ghost was looking at you in a way that made you wonder if he could see to your very soul. Maybe that was just the effect of his silver eyes. You wouldn't be able to bring it up without admitting that you eavesdropped. Ghost absolutely knew you did, but he maybe he was waiting for you to admit it. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. There was also no way John didn't know you used his door for target practice, but you could pass that off as something else. Frustration. Stress.

First, you wanted to talk to Konig and see if he knew anything. After that you would decide what to do, but if they were keeping it from you now, how could you trust they would tell you the truth when asked? Especially if John felt like you might be in danger. You would learn more by sneaking into his office, or one of the other males' rooms to rifle through their papers.

"It's just my magic," you said, deciding on part of the truth. "I want to figure out what's happening, that's all."

Ghost's eyes narrowed a fraction, and you stared at him, daring him to say something. Then he'd have to bring the information up himself.

"Understandable." John patted your knee under the table. "How about you skip sparring with Soap today and relax?"

"Or sparring will help take yer mind off it," Soap offered. "Or maybe ya can replicate what happened yesterday."

You didn't have to fake the grimace that came from the thought. You wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything but summoning. "I think I'll study Alextren with Konig before our session with Kyle later."

"If that is what you wish," John said gently before addressing the entire table. "Our meeting is adjourned."

That was your cue to stand, and you left quickly, before Ghost could try to corner you. As if he couldn't do it whenever he wanted.

If you wanted to break into someone's room, you would need Konig to help with any wards they had up. Then again, you were queen. Was anywhere in this castle forbidden to you, warded against you? While you could understand it for privacy reasons, now you wondered if there was anything hidden in the castle. Again, you wished you were already fluent in Alextren so you could read the oldest books in the library. Did they hold secrets, or were they as boring as every other old book you tried to read?

Too bad Theodric banned learning foreign languages right around the time they made Common the official tongue. Your father always said it was because the nobility were scared. There were many languages and dialects in the Theodric lands once upon a time, and if people wished to talk about a rebellion or anything of the sort, they could do so in ease. So instead of just learning the languages, they got rid of them. Everyone spoke Common, and only common. It kept you all ignorant--you knew that much.

Still, your father spoke other languages. He learned them in secret, while out at postings near borders, or across them. Konig was not from Theodric, and part of the reason his accent cleared up so fast were the scowls of the nobility every time he spoke.

Speaking of the wolf shifter, you found him eating a late breakfast in his room. You knocked once, then simply opened the door as you always did with him. He was maskless, blinking at you as he chewed. The room smelled like coffee, and Konig had yet to strap on his light leather armor, nor his many halters for all of his weapons. His auburn hair was mussed, and he was freshly shaved. Despite his gigantic size, he was absolutely adorable.

"Good morning," he greeted, taking a drink of the coffee.

You bit your lip. "Morning." You walked over and placed a kiss on his warm cheek, and the shifter's eyes fluttered. "Sleep well?" You sat down on the edge of his bed. It was extra long, and a bit firmer than yours. There was only one pillow, and the blankets were primly folded and tucked under the mattress, military style.

"Yes. Did you?" Konig reached out for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you towards him so that you were perched on his knee.

"Not really," you admitted, leaning into him. "Konig, I have a question."

"Oh? Is it if I'll fuck you until the blankets are ruined? Because the answer is yes."

You smacked his arm, ears and face turning warm. "I--no, I have a serious question."

The wolf simply waited, so you continued. "You know how you went out with John and Kyle to go see a body? They were saying it was a Fae male that got attacked by an animal."

Konig frowned a bit, slowly nodding. "Yes. We came to the conclusion that it wasn't an animal, though. Why do you ask?"

Your breath caught; maybe he was keeping the symbols supposedly carved into the body a secret. "Were...was there anything strange? Like on his clothes, or any weird markings on his skin?"

"I'm not sure. The body was in a temporary holding place before they burned him. I saw it briefly, then went to see if I could track down any other scents around the scene. I didn't stay for the entire examination of the corpse. Why?"

He sounded truthful, and you were pretty good about telling when Konig lied. So he really didn't know, then. Well, at least you would let one of your mates in on your thoughts. "I overheard a conversation last night, and apparently there were symbols carved into them."

"Symbols?" Konig wrapped his other arm around you now. "What kind?"

"I don't know, they didn't say. Soap seemed to think it implied someone didn't want me here."

Konig grunted. "And did you ask Soap about this more? What sort of symbols could give him that impression? Sometimes killers get involved in strange, ritualistic behaviors. It could have been a human who hunts Fae, or another Fae that joined one of those God cults."

"Of course I didn't ask! They obviously didn't see fit to tell me up until now, so I can't trust they'll just present everything to me if I ask. If they wanted me to know, it would have been brought up by now. But it hasn't." There was a painting of a valley with a river running through it on the wall, and you focused on it. "It just feels weird, Konig. Too many weird things all at the same time."

"You think they're connected, too," Konig said softly. "So what's your plan?"

Slowly, you looked back at your mate. "I want to break into John's office."

Konig flinched as if you hit him. "Break in? Luney, he's your husband and your mate. Surely if you just asked, he would tell you."

"He hasn't told me!" You got off of Konig's lap, walking a couple of steps away from him, your fingers in your hair. "Maybe it is nothing. Maybe it's just some occultist, like you said. Either way, I want to know. Either it has something to do with me, in which case I have a right to know. Or there is some maniac going around butchering Fae and carving into them. In that case, citizens of a kingdom I am apparently queen of are getting killed by some sick murderer on a spree. That means it still has something to do with me. He should have told me."

"You're right," the male replied. "But do you think breaking in will be that easy? Is it even warded against you?"

"If he's smart, which he is, he'll either have it warded against anyone not with him, or we will still be able to enter, but he'll be alerted." You spun back towards your mate. "Which is why I need you. My magic is out of my control as of late, and I'm not powerful enough to break wards anyway."

The room felt too warm. Your growing anger and agitation were doing nothing to help. Konig ran a hand over his face. "Even if I don't help you, you'll still try on your own, won't you?"

"Obviously," you snapped.

"Yeah," the shifter sighed, "that's what I thought. Okay, so when do you plan on doing this? And how, exactly?"

"We have to wait for John to be gone, or occupied doing something else. Ideally, for Ghost to be not in the castle, either. He knows I eavesdropped, but he can't admit it without admitting that either there's something up, or they've been hiding something from me. So we're in stalemate." You walked around Konig's room while you talked, taking in all the little differences between his room and yours. The colors were different, mostly dark browns and white. On the table by his bed was a necklace with a moon charm dangling off of it, something he told you once belonged to his mother. 

"Any clues as to when that will be? You're the one that sits in on their meetings, Luney." Konig was gathering up his dishes back onto the service tray.

"John will be off with Ghost and Soap in a week for a hunting trip hosted by one of the remaining nobility. I don't know what kind of masochist decides to hunt for pleasure in the winter, but I was under the impression it was mainly a social call; the lord or duke or whatever he is has a good amount of influence." You had been invited on the hunting trip as well, and you vaguely could recall the male's pinched face from the wedding. He had given his congratulations without looking at you once, so you were certain he disapproved of you in some way. John also implied that he used to have human slaves, and that your court was trying to slowly nudge him in the right moral direction. Either way you declined the invitation, something the lord would likely approve of. Now you were even more grateful for the decision.

You would need to be very careful, though. "I need you to come up with some excuse to get into his study again this week," you told the shifter, watching him slowly strap on his weapons. Gods, that was sexier than it should be. You looked away before the sight distracted you. "I can go with you too. Might be better, actually. I can talk to him while you try to figure out the wards."

"Gods, you're really serious about this, aren't you?" Konig tightened the harness around one of his powerful thighs. "What are you going to do with the information once you get it? What's your next step, Lune?"

"I confront him," you replied simply. "Like I said, I have a right to know no matter what the situation is. It might break his trust in me, but him hiding this has already broken the trust I had in him. At least it will even the playing field. Are you in or not?"

"Luney," Konig started as he stood up. He advanced towards you, cupping your cheek. "I'd be in even if you asked me to travel to the gates of hell with you. Of course I'll help."

At least you had one mate willing to trust you.

-   -   -

The excuse to get yourself and Konig into John's office was not entirely impractical. Or, it wouldn't be if you felt like you could still trust John. You asked for a private discussion about your sleeping arrangements. It would certainly avoid them both coming to your door at night, forcing you to choose. Sometimes you also just wanted to sleep alone. You enjoyed company sometimes, but being by yourself, having the entire bed and all the blankets, was also quite nice.

You mostly talked, allowing Konig time to examine the wards surrounding the office. You tried, but you could really only pick up that the magic was bound to John, and that it acted as a one-way silencing charm; sounds from outside the office could be heard, but no noises from inside could be heard from the other side of the door or walls.

"Does this need to be a hard schedule?" John was asking as he stared down at a calendar. "Or can it be more fluid?"

"Fluid," you responded. "I might also decide that I want to sleep alone one night."

"So we check before then, or you can let us know how you are feeling," John decided with a nod. "Any preference, Konig? Mondays?"

Konig blinked slowly. "Sure. Mondays." He did a good job at pretending he was paying attention, at least.

"I want Wednesdays by myself," you said. "And any days you're away, I might want Konig with me."

John made note, humming. "Alright. Seems reasonable. I would like Fridays, as well as nights either before or after court events."

"Okay," you replied. In truth, you did want a schedule to be figured out, but you didn't necessarily care who got what day. You would have final say, anyway. You just needed the excuse to get Konig in.

In the end, it was decided that Konig got Sunday, Monday, and Thursday. John got Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday. Wednesdays were for you only, but you could always opt to sleep alone if you wanted. You both stood, but John reached for your hand. "Lunelle, if you would mind staying back? I would like to speak with you."

You glanced at Konig. His eyes betrayed nothing behind his mask, but he nodded once at you. "I'll be outside. Soap said he wanted to spar again today, and I'm going to help."

"Okay." You remained seated while the shifter left. You hoped he had enough time to give you some answers. Now it was just you and John.

The king's eyes were soft. "Lunelle, is everything alright? I feel like I know the answer considering the gauge marks on the door, but is there anything you want to talk about?"

Yes. "No. I just...I was frustrated," you mumbled, once more settling on a partial truth. "I just feel like everyone is dismissing the issues I bring up about my power. Like none of you believe me that it definitely isn't a defensive reaction." You chewed your lower lip, putting on a show of regret as you reached across the desk for John's hands. You didn't like lying to him, but he was lying to you. "It had nothing to do with it being your door. Every other wall in my room is covered in decorations, and I don't have a target."

You saw the resolve in John's eyes melt, and knew you had gotten away with your lie. "Oh, Lunelle. I am so sorry. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel as if you are being ignored. Magic is unpredictable. While it still could be self defense, you know your magic the best. If you say it is different, then it is. I apologize for not listening to you better. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

You can stop lying to me and tell me what's really happening. "I just want you to promise that you'll listen to me, and that you'll do whatever you can to help me figure this whole thing out. Honestly, John, I'm scared. I've never been scared of my power before, but I've always known its limitations. And it looks like those limitations aren't where I left them." The being scared part was true, at least.

"Okay." John squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. His mustache tickled. "I promise I will do whatever I can to help you, so long as it is in my power. I will make some inquiries."

"Thank you. It's a good start." You smiled a bit, but lying to your mate left an uncomfortable rock in your stomach. You hoped it was leaving one in his, too.

After all, you were both only lying by omission. Until you broke into his office, anyway.

You gave John a quick peck on the lips, then left the office. You felt the slight pressure change as you exited the wards, and looked at Konig where he stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the opposite wall. You both began walking, and you casually grabbed Konig's hand to trace in his palm.

The shadows. You weren't safe to talk out loud, at least not here.

The two of you used to communicate this way as kids, when you were up to something you didn't want your tutors or father knowing about. Konig was quick to grab your hand, making it look like he was playing with your fingers while he traced back on your palm.

The wards are strong, but not invincible. Konig laced his fingers through yours, and you looked up at him. Out loud, you asked, "Can you?"

"I think so. I need to practice," he replied.

If only you could make wards for him to practice breaking. You had a plan for that, too.

-   -   -

Roughly a week wasn't much time for Konig to practice. It was even less time for you to learn to weave wards, but you didn't really have a choice. You had no idea when you would have another opportunity to get into John's office without him being there.

"I just think learning to make wards would be a good idea," you were telling Kyle over the large oak table in the library. "It's good for protection, and if my powers are growing, it's a safe place to start."

Kyle nodded. "It is definitely worth a shot. When would you like to start?"

"Can we start tonight? If I have to learn one more irregular verb in Alextren my mind might run away from me." You gave Kyle your best sheepish smile, and he chuckled.

"Alright. Then we'll skip the Alextren and do ward weaving."

"Perfect! Thank you, Kyle." You beamed at him, and swore a hint of color tinted the tops of his cheeks. "So how do I start?"

"Well..." He thought for a moment, then leaned back. "Close your eyes, and first try to visualize your power. It can be anything. Ghost sees a chest. I see a campfire."

A chest? Interesting. You closed your eyes and tried to locate that kernel of power in you, visualizing what it would look like. You felt it take form, and in your mind's eye you saw a single edelweiss flower. Small, unassuming. How apt. Even edelweiss usually grew in clusters. "I see it."

"Brilliant. Now try to take only a small strand of that power. Draw it out somehow. For me, it's like pulling one single flame." Kyle's voice was quiet, calm. He made a good teacher.

You weren't sure what pulling a strand would look like for you, but you mentally reached out, plucking a single thick, fuzzy petal from the bloom. It thrummed with power. "I think I did it."

"Really? That's amazing, princess, it took me ages to figure that out." Kyle sounded genuinely in awe. "Okay, so try to imagine you're pulling and stretching that power. Like...a fishing net. You're casting it. Or dough, if that makes more sense. Stretching it into a thin layer. Then you're going to cast that layer of power around you. Stick to yourself, for now. Silencing wards are simple, so focus on keeping sound out. You should only be able to hear yourself, in your bubble."

Stretch the power? How did that even work? And if you were so good at isolating a small bit, why had your father never taught you? Though you guessed magic like this likely came naturally for full-blooded Fae, needing little to no training at all. How annoying.

Nevertheless, you studied the small white petal and tried to tug at the edges, gently pulling it apart. It expanded, and your breath caught in excitement. Could you actually get this on your first try? You gave another tug but--ah. The petal stretched, but then tore. You could feel the hole in the magic, and sighed as you opened your eyes. "I ripped it."

Kyle's smile was reassuring. "Yeah, that can happen if you go too fast, or don't stretch it evenly. Takes practice. Eventually you'll be able to do it without thinking. But really, it's impressive that you were able to visualize your power and isolate it so quickly."

"Because I barely have any," you groaned, rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes. "It was a flower. Just one. I bet my father sees a whole forest."

"Princess, comparing yourself won't do you any good." You hated how soft Kyle's voice was, how much the words settled you and made you feel not so pathetic. "It's one flower, but you should know better than anyone else. A flower is still beautiful, whether it's one or a field of them. I don't mean to compare your magic to poison either, but a drop of poison will usually do just as much damage as a cup full. It's just a metaphor. No need to get hung up on it."

You only felt a little bit better. "I'll try again."

Once more you shut your eyes, and your little edelweiss flower was waiting for you. The petal you plucked earlier was back in place, so once more you plucked a single flower, studying the strand of power. You turned it around in your hands, feeling the warmth of life and growth. It vibrated, like the hum of a bumblebee circling lazily in the summer. Once more you slowly pried at the edges, tugging it out bit by bit, going slower this time.

It required far more concentration than you thought, your brows pinching together. The thought of accomplishing this without thought was unfathomable, but everything came with practice and muscle memory. This time you were able to stretch the magic out farther, but you pulled at one edge again, and felt it fray. "I don't think I have enough power," you gritted out.

"You do," Kyle assured you. "Make it so thin it's almost see-through, so think you can barely tell it's there."

You tried to do just that, stretching from the middle, but...it was difficult indeed. You sighed, then felt Kyle's warm hands on yours.

Before you knew what happened, the layer of magic blazed, filling with energy. It overwhelmed you, the thin layer of magic solidifying. You gasped, eyes flying open. You saw Kyle in front of you, staring a bit slack-jawed as he looked around the room.

"What," you said, breathless. Your chest was heaving as if you'd just ran laps. "What just happened?"

"I..." Kyle's warm eyes met yours. "I don't know, but you just warded the entire library."

The whole library? "But...the library is huge." But Kyle was right; you could feel a sort of energy surrounding you. "Are you sure that wasn't you?"

"Princess, I did not do anything," Kyle said with a shake of his head. "It was all you."

"Did I make a silencing charm?"

Slowly, the panther shifter nodded. "Yeah, you did. Did something click?"

"No, I was struggling. But then you touched me, and I felt this rush, and..." Wait a minute.

The moment Kyle touched you, you felt a flare of magic. With Soap, he was holding you down on the mat. And Ghost...Ghost had grabbed your wrist when your magic triggered. You couldn't do anything on your own, but if someone was touching you, you could.

"Kyle, did I...did I siphon your powers?" you asked, panicked. Siphoning magic was a rare gift, and a dangerous one. The reason for its rarity was the bloodline that primarily carried the gift had been executed.

The male frowned. "Siphon? No, I don't think so. Why, princess, what are you thinking? Talk to me so I can help."

You licked your lips. "Every time my magic has has acted up, I've been touching someone. Ghost, Soap, you. I have to be borrowing your magic. That's the only thing that makes sense."

Kyle tilted his head at you thoughtfully. He closed his eyes, so you waited. When he opened them, he was shaking his head. "It doesn't feel like you siphoned anything from me, princess. I don't feel drained at all."

"I probably took a miniscule amount," you countered. "Ward magic doesn't require much, right? That's why you think I can do it. I just borrowed enough to finish what I was doing."

"Perhaps," the shifter granted. "So that is your hypothesis. The next step would be to experiment." He offered his hands out to you.

You stared. "Kyle, I can't."

"Why?"  He didn't pull his hands back.

"You know what siphons do. If I really am one, then I could take too much. If I drain you, I could kill you. I've seen Fae be killed for the ability."

"Princess, you are no longer in Theodric. Alextre does not punish people for their power, they teach them how to control it. I'm trying to help you. You might not be a siphon at all. We cannot know until we test it. Besides, even if you are siphoning my power, you won't drain me." He smiled gently. "I trust you."

That made one of you. You stared at his hands for a long moment, taking in a deep breath. "Maybe we should have someone else here? In case I do get carried away?"

"You're stalling, princess." Kyle's voice was gentle. "Just take my hands. I promise that I will not allow you to harm either of us. Being scared of your magic will not help you. Trust yourself. You're not going to hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you," you repeated quietly, as if saying it would make you believe. But you took a slow breath and reached for his hands, flinching as if just touching him would cause the whole castle to explode.

But you had touched the other males, and been touched, many times. Nothing happened.

"Close your eyes and visualize your power again," Kyle instructed.

Once more, you urged your kernel of power forward. It did feel stronger this time, and when you saw the flower, you nearly released Kyle's hands. Instead of one flower, there were many. A small patch of edelweiss, waiting for you.

"Try pulling apart a thread and examining it. You'll know if it feels like you or not," Kyle continued, though you were so deep into your headspace that Kyle's voice felt far away, as if he were speaking to you through water.

You were hesitant, but you plucked a petal. It felt sturdier, and you began examining it, stretching it out. It felt stronger than before, less prone to tearing or fraying. You turned the magic over, trying to sense the energy from it, for any trace of the panther shifter. But...it felt like spring. Like warm soil and sunlight. Its scent was entirely your own.

Your eyes opened, meeting Kyle's. "My magic is stronger."

"I didn't feel you taking anything from me," Kyle responded. "How did the magic feel?"

You withdrew your hands. "It felt like mine, but if I'm siphoning, wouldn't the magic just turn into mine? Would it even feel like yours?"

The shifter sighed softly. He looked around the library, at the tall shelves filled to the top with thick volumes. The watery sunlight cast gentle shadows onto the wood floors, the cold of outside mixing with the warm of inside and causing them to creak occasionally. The entire library smelled like old parchment, dust, and ink. It was peaceful, unlike the inner workings of your mind.

Kyle eventually looked at you again. "I've never met a siphon before, so I cannot be certain. But we have no answers as to why your magic would be stronger when touched. Maybe you feel more secure, though that goes directly against the self-defense theory. We need more data."

Uh oh. "You mean..."

"Yes. You need to practice with others. The best person to tell if you're siphoning will be Ghost," Kyle smiled when he saw you grimace, "but John can help too. If you are too scared to summon your earth magic, then keep practicing with wards." Kyle reached across the table, cupping your cheek gently, smoothing his thumb over your skin. "We will figure this out, princess. You are not alone. Even if you are a siphon, it does not mean that you are bad, or do not deserve to live. It just means you have more work to do. Do you have any other siphons in your family?"

As far as you knew, your family were all earth wielders. There were a few other gifts sprinkled in through marriage, but the strongest magic was often the one inherited by offspring. "No. Mostly earth. My grandma was water gifted, and I think I have a great-grandpa with fire magic." You smiled a bit at Kyle. "But that's it. Only elemental magic, but I don't know my entire family tree."

"Then it's not likely you somehow inherited siphon gifts. Don't worry, we'll figure it out." Kyle flashed another beautiful grin at you. As he stood, he bent over the table to kiss your forehead, and you angrily shoved aside the butterflies the action caused, as if you didn't have two mates. You must just be greedy.

"Thank you, Kyle." You ran a hand over your face. "What do we do about the ward I put here?"

"Oh, we can just leave it. It's just a silencing charm. It will be interesting to see how long it lasts."

Leave it? You swallowed, controlling your expression. "Okay. Can we go get some food now?"

"Of course." Kyle wrapped your hand around his arm to escort you.

What a perfect opportunity for Konig to practice. Certainly saved you the trouble of needing to make more wards.

Chapter Text

News of your magic's reaction to Kyle's had been brought up at dinner. John was the first to volunteer to help you, and you found that your magic strengthened all the same when you touched him. It also worked with Konig and Soap, despite the two of them only having shifting abilities. Ghost never offered his help.

The day John would be away on the hunting trip was drawing nearer and nearer. You spent your days practicing building wards, usually with Kyle or John, and in the evenings Konig would practice unweaving them.

You were getting quite good at your protective charms, though the ones you made on your own were weak and small compared to those made with the help of one of the other males. You had made silencing charms, protection wards, and even a ward that could act as a physical barrier for anyone trying to get inside. Of course, these wards could be broken and weren't foolproof, as Konig proved by breaking them.

"Is it difficult?" you asked him after he finished unravelling the silencing charm you placed around your room with his help. "Undoing the wards, I mean."

"It's more like...a tapestry of magic. It's woven together, but there's always a spot where you tug at the thread just right, and the whole thing comes undone. The wards you make with help are quite strong, Luney. It takes a bit of time to find that hidden thread."

You blinked. "And the ones on my own?"

Konig, who was without his mask since he was in your room, gave you a lopsided grin as he rubbed his neck. "Let's say that the thread count is lower on the wards you make yourself."

How comforting to know you couldn't even cast a decent protection charm without a male's help. Well, the theory was anyone with magic could help you out, but John wasn't really willing to call random Fae to come hold your hands and let you practice. As to why contact with others was strengthening your magic...that was a mystery.

You weren't entirely convinced you weren't a siphon, and had yet to touch your earth gift because of it. You knew it could get out of control entirely too quickly, and you weren't willing to risk anyone's safety to find out. Ghost apparently had relatives that were siphons, and had scoffed when you voiced your worry that you also had the gift. It was both insulting and reassuring.

"Luney, are you sure you don't want to try your other magic?" Konig asked slowly, watching your expression. "You can practice with me. I don't have a lot of power to begin with, so even if you do try to take too much, I don't think you'll summon an entire forest or anything."

You frowned. "The worry is that I drain you and kill you, Konig. I'm not going to risk your safety, or anyone else's. That's my decision."

Konig let out a sigh. "Gaz is right. I think you're afraid of your magic, Luney. That's never good."

"Gaz?" You stared at the male. "Since when do you call Kyle 'Gaz'?"

Now the shifter rolled his eyes. "I am on friendly terms with some of the males here. Gaz is easy to get along with. Now stop avoiding the question. Are you scared of your magic?"

Honestly, you had already thought about this. Your magic was a familiar, living part of you. It carried your father's love, and you had spent your entire life cultivating it, with nothing to show. You were scared you would disappoint your father, but he merely reassured you that he would love you even if you hadn't even one drop of magic in your veins, because he loved your mother without magic all the same. Thinking about it made you want to cry.

You had come to terms with the limits of your magic, though there was still some bitterness left. But now you got your wish, in some strange way. It was like discovering a new species of animal that looked similar to one you had seen before, but this new species was unknown. What was its temperament? Did it bite? Was it poisonous? Or could you approach it slowly and find it to be docile, like its cousins? You didn't know if you were willing to risk the bite to find out.

"Of course I'm scared," you finally answered quietly, picking at a hangnail to avoid Konig's yellow gaze. "Suddenly becoming powerful has to be too good to be true. There's got to be a catch somewhere."

"I think the catch is the fact that you need to be in contact with another Fae," Konig pointed out. "Come on, Luney, you have to take the leap at some point. You're waiting for the other shoe to drop, but you're already barefoot. Just try. Make some of the pine in here grow a pinecone or something." He offered his hand.

"I could grow a pinecone without help," you grumbled, making a point and twisting a hand out to a string of pine wound around your bedframe. Slowly but surely a small pinecone took shape, making the bough sag ever so slightly. "It's within my usual limits."

"Fine." Konig looked around, his eyes sparking as he grabbed a slice of lemon off the tea tray. He plucked a seed from it, then held it in one palm while his other hand was stretched towards you. "Just make it sprout. Lemon trees don't grow in the winter, right?"

"Well technically you can germinate the seeds in any weather since lemons can be--" You shut your mouth when you saw Konig's face. "Ugh, fine. Then let me just try on my own first so I can be sure, okay?"

Konig didn't reply, staring at you evenly. So you rolled your shoulders and stared at the seed. You rallied your magic, letting it warm in your chest as you pictured the small, two-leafed sprout bursting from the seed. You felt a tingle, and the seed split. Excitement made your pulse jump, but then your magic fizzled. You groaned in frustration, rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes. "I thought I had it."

"So did I," the wolf responded, putting the seed on the tray and pulling another one from the lemon slice. "I honestly think that's progress, Luney. Now here, try again. Take my hand."

Dropping your hands, you inhaled as you placed one of your hands in Konig's large one. "Okay, but if you feel me pulling too much from you, you back off." The shifter nodded, but you squeezed his hand. "Promise me."

"Promise."

You once more summoned your power, staring at the seed and envisioning it sprouting. This time the reaction was almost instant. The seed split and a small green stem shot from the split, forming two neat leaves at the very top. You blinked, trying to pull your hand away, but Konig held firm. "Nope. Go a little further. The next stage of growth."

Swallowing, you nodded. You stared at the sprout, urging it to grow, to multiply, to change from a sprout to a seedling. The little lemon sprout obeyed, shooting up in Konig's palm and solidifying into a thin branch with more leaves hanging off, the seed dissolving and thin roots trickling down. Konig had to quickly change his grip to prevent it from falling over, but he grinned. "Look at that. Bet if we had a pot of soil we'd have some lemons in a few more seconds."

Your hands shook as you pulled away from the shifter. "I...I didn't drain you?"

He shrugged. "I don't think so. Everyone keeps saying it, Luney, but you need to believe it. You're not a siphon. There is nothing for you to be afraid of." Konig deposited the seedling into a vase, standing and bending down to plant a kiss on your forehead. "It will be okay."

"I just want to focus on one thing at a time." Your hands picked at the hem of your sleeve for something to do. "I will play with my magic more after we get into John's office. I need to know what's happening. Maybe I can prevent more deaths."

"Maybe."

-   -   -

"Be careful." You bit your lip as you stood at the edge of the castle grounds. John, Soap, and Ghost were all saddled up and ready for the hunting trip. It would take them more than an entire day to make it to the lord's estate, and they would be on the hunt for around three days before returning. That gave you and Konig plenty of time.

The main worry was Kyle, who was staying back to take care of anything that came up, as well as look after the castle, and...you. You had Konig as well, which was the only reason John agreed to taking both Soap and Ghost with him. You also had to remind him that you were capable of taking care of yourself, and the king relented.

"Feels a bit lonely, doesn't it?" Kyle noted during lunch. He sat across from you, with John's seat at the head of the table empty. Konig was not there, claiming he'd eat in his room. The truth was he was going to feel out the wards on John's office before you both tried to break them tonight, but Kyle didn't need to know that.

You were on team distract the panther shifter. "I was able to use my earth gifts last week with Konig." You had yet to bring this up to anyone, mostly because you were afraid they would push you to try more, and you weren't ready for it yet.

Kyle beamed at you though, and you felt a little bad that you had to hide things from him. But he was hiding things from you, too. "Really? That's great, princess! How far did you get?"

You told him what happened, chatting back and forth about theories on your magic. The topic of multiple mates came up too, but Kyle had yet to find any records of such a thing happening before. You were somehow closer to answers and yet frozen in place. Being a siphon would have been preferable. At least that would be a reasonable answer to your magic acting this way, but in all honesty you weren't convinced the deaths, your powers, and number of mates were mere coincidence. There was no way.

Eventually Konig slipped into the room, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Luney, ready to go study?" He had his mask on again, his eyes totally blank as he glanced up at Kyle. "Gaz, you want to join?"

Kyle shook his head, standing up and stacking up his dishes, likely intending to bring them back to the kitchens himself. "No, have to pass today. I'm on secretary duty today. Let me know if there is anything I can help with, though." His pretty chestnut eyes found yours, and his gentle smile made your heart ache. "See you at dinner, love."

Love. That was a new one. It sent pricks of heat to your face, and you barely managed a smile in return as you nodded. You left the dining hall with Konig, who gave you a sidelong glance. "Love, hm?"

"Kyle likes pet names." You touched your cheek with the back of your hand, still a bit flustered. "It's probably nothing. We have bigger issues right now. How did things go?"

Konig glanced around the hall, but Ghost was half a day's journey away by now. Even someone as powerful as the wraith wouldn't have command over the shadows this far away. "I can break it. Do you have a plan on how we're going to explain why his office wards are suddenly down when he gets back? Or if Gaz notices?"

You nodded. "I'll say I was practicing undoing my own wards and targeted his instead somehow. It will be fine. Trust me."

Konig sighed. "As if I have any other option, Luney." He placed a warm hand on the small of your back, and it steeled you. You would get answers tonight.

-   -   -

You studied Alextren in the library with Konig, then practiced sparring with him outside for a little while. Eventually you both headed inside when your hands were too red and painful to move properly, and Alton fixed you up with mugs of smooth, rich hot chocolate. Kyle joined you both for the treat, and you were thankful Konig was acting normally enough to chat with the fire wielder when you couldn't.

You had no plans on taking anything you found in John's office, merely looking. If done correctly, there would be no way for him to know you were searching through his things. But you knew the odds of getting away with this were slim. He would figure it out somehow. When that happened, there wouldn't be much you could do. You felt vindicated in your reasoning for deciding to do this, but a voice deep down said you should have just asked to begin with. If only it were that simple. If only he had told you to begin with, preventing the distrust that his actions had sown.

Dinner was another calm and lonely affair, but Kyle was his usual sunny self, making you laugh and smile. It almost made you even more angry. Though odds were, hiding information from you wouldn't have been Kyle's decision. It clearly wasn't Soap's. John, being king, would have made the final decision. You just hoped Kyle would forgive you. You were nearly certain he would.

Konig was scheduled to sleep with you that night, so when he followed you to bed, there was no reason for anyone to be suspicious.

"Okay, so after you break the wards, I'll slip inside," you said as you held the wolf shifter's hands in your own to ground yourself. "I'm not sure how long it will take to find what I'm looking for, so you'll have to stand outside and guard."

Your mate nodded. You had both already been over the plan--if you could even call it that--multiple times. This was mostly to calm yourself, and Konig knew that. There wasn't really much to plan though, considering you weren't even sure if you'd find what you wanted in John's study. But you had to try.

After a few more hours to ensure the castle was asleep, you and Konig made your way to John's office. It was one floor below, and you had to go past Kyle's room. You paused in front of his door for a moment, letting Konig's keen ears listen for the deep breathing that indicated sleep. He jerked his head once, and you kept going.

Standing in front of the intricately carved redwood door of John's office, you felt your resolve falter a bit. Wrong, wrong, this was so wrong. But necessary. So you gave Konig a nod, and he shut his eyes. There was silence for more than a few minutes, and eventually you felt a shift in the air around you, like an energetic breeze. Konig's eyes opened, reflective in the dark. "It's down."

"Okay. Just--wait out here. I'll do my best to be quick." You touched the doorknob and flinched, half expecting it to turn you into a pile of ash. But it didn't, the door swinging open with only the slightest creak of its hinges.

John's office was immaculate. The books shelved behind the large desk were arranged in neat rows, likely by author or genre. The surface of the desk was clean, save a leather-bound notebook you knew was for accounting in one corner, a quill and a pot of ink just next to it. The tall-backed chair was imposing without John's easy warmth filling it, so you avoided touching it as you crouched down behind the desk, opening the top drawer.

There were many folders tucked in, all made of similar leather, soft and flexible and in varying shades of brown, though you couldn't see very well in the dark. With no other choice, you pulled the first one out and untied the length of cord holding it together. Parchment was stacked inside, and upon a quick skim of the pages, you could see these were records of household staff. You tied the leather cover shut, using the same knot that you found it tied with, then moved to the next one.

You were taking too much time, but each folder you pulled gave you nothing. You sighed and moved onto another drawer, running your fingers over the spines of journals neatly arranged, skin pricking as you brushed one. Not thinking too much of it, you noted the journal's exact place in the drawer before pulling it out and opening it on top of the desk.

Flicking through the pages, your heart nearly stopped as you came across an illustration. Scrawled above the illustration in Kyle's neat penmanship was 'Symbol Discovered on Deceased Remains'.

The symbol was quite unfamiliar, though something about it nagged at you. It was a circle. In the center of the circle was a strange shape, like a series of loops. The circle, too, was dotted with various shapes. There were five of them. Two triangles stacked on top of each other, one was a sort of X shape with three horizontal lines crossed through it. Another was a sort of crescent moon shape, with the other two being circles with strange lines coming off of them. It made no sense.

Even Kyle's handwriting noted 'There is obviously meaning in these symbols to the culprit, however further research is required to understand their origins.' Indeed.

You grabbed the journal and started towards the door to show Konig, but before you could make it to the door a figure loomed in front of you. They were pure black, made of void and emptiness and shadow. Eyes widening, you gasped as the figure solidified and you saw Ghost standing right in front of you. "Another late-night run to the kitchen, Your Highness?"

"Konig--"

"Your pup will not answer you." Ghost began stalking towards you, and you had no choice but to back up. When Ghost saw your stricken expression, he rolled his eyes, the color somehow still visible in the dark. "He is asleep. He will merely wake up with a headache, so do not give me that look."

"You're back early," you said instead, putting the journal behind your back as you hit a wall. Ghost followed you until he was close enough for you to feel his warmth. You could make out his cool eyes in the darkness, the furrow in his brow. He had on his hood and casual mask today, the soft material molding to the strong line of his nose and over the plush cushion of his mouth. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and Ghost's eyes narrowed in at your throat where your pulse jumped.

"I had a strange feeling that a little mouse would try to squeeze into places she should not," he responded. His icy eyes narrowed on you. "You could not leave well enough alone, could you?"

"Not when you're all hiding something from me." Your chin lifted. "Something I have a right to know."

Ghost's gaze swept over your figure so slowly it felt like a caress. You nearly shivered, the male lightly placing a hand on your upper arm, trailing it down and leaving fire in his wake. He snatched your wrist and yanked your arm up, eyes pinned to the journal you clutched. "Thievery was not the way to get your answers, Majesty." But instead of taking the journal, Ghost grabbed your other wrist and pulled your arm up, pinning your wrists to the wall.

Your blood was singing in your ears. Ghost could hurt you very badly. But you knew the threat of violence wasn't the cause of your fluttering heart, of the flames licking your belly and going right between your thighs. You didn't know what that said about you, but you might just die from embarrassment if Ghost scented it. "If you hurt me, John will be devastated."

A low chuckle left the wraith, Ghost transferring your wrists into only one hand while the other came down. He gripped your jaw, forcing your head up so you were looking into his eyes. "I am not going to hurt you, Lunelle. But you do need to be punished. Don't you agree?" You couldn't find your voice, so Ghost's grip tightened. "Answer me."

"Y-yes," you said, lower lip wobbling. You knew you'd be punished somehow, after all. There was no way you could get away with this little stunt long-term, after all.

Ghost's pupils managed to dilate even further in the darkness, and the primal emotion stirring in his eyes made your core tighten around nothing. "Good girl. Now--" He paused, blinking. Ghost inhaled deeply, eyes rolling back into his head. He swore lowly, his grip on your wrists and jaw nearly bruising. "Fuck. I cannot believe you are aroused right now." His eyes squeezed shut. "You like this, don't you Majesty? You like being at my mercy, pinned to the wall and unable to run away."

You squirmed, having the decency to blush, at least. "Ghost," you whimpered out, and that was enough for his eyes to fly open again. "Ghost, please." You didn't even know what you were begging for.

The plea made him let out a soft growl, the hand on your jaw moving around your throat. Ghost's fingers pressed slightly into your skin, not cutting your airways off but merely holding you in place. You almost whined, wanting more. His face grew closer, close enough that you could count his eyelashes. The bridge of his nose brushed against your cheek, and you couldn't stop the shudder that left you when the fabric of his mask swept over the shell of your ear.

The male murmured lowly, in what you recognized as Alextren. However, you were only able to pick out a few words, mostly pronouns. I, you, me.

The one that struck you the most was mine.

Your blood nearly boiled as you wiggled again. Surely you heard that wrong. Or there was context that made that word much more...unsexy. Surely.

Ghost had his face buried in your neck at this point, and you could have sworn he was scenting you, still babbling in Alextren against your skin when you heard footsteps in the hall. Ghost froze, going as still as a statue before he suddenly dissipated into shadow and rematerialized on the other side of the room, right as the door swung open to reveal Kyle, in his night clothes.

He held up a ball of fire, the office lighting up in harsh, contrasting shadows. The panther shifter blinked blearily at the scene before him, going to Ghost, then to you, then to the journal still clutched in your hand. Then he sighed. "I'll go start a pot of tea."

Chapter Text

Konig was sitting on the floor with his head between his knees. He had woken up right as Kyle brought the tea service cart into John's study, and the growl that peeled from him when he caught sight of Ghost was enough to make your skin crawl. He nearly shifted into his wolf form, only calming down when you took his face in your hands and told him it wouldn't solve anything.

Kyle was sitting in John's usual seat, pouring a cup of lavender chamomile tea, adding a swirl of milk and one sugar cube. You were sitting opposite of the panther shifter, with Ghost beside you. You were doing your very best to ignore the wraith, actually.

You were pissed at him for ruining your plans, but you were mostly mortified at your body's reaction to him. Not only that, but you were obviously not alone in your...enjoyment, if Ghost's actions were anything to go by. You were pretty sure most thief catchers didn't pin their culprits to a wall and practically rub against them. Either way, you were doing your best to pretend that Ghost didn't exist. He was likely doing the same, with his tense posture. His arms were crossed, and his eyes went everywhere except for you.

Then there was the journal on the table, open to the page containing the illustration of the symbols on the bodies.

"Konig, tea?" Kyle called, looking over to the hulking male curled up on the ground. Konig grunted in response, so Kyle looked to Ghost. "Tea?"

"No."

"Okay," Kyle sighed out slowly before looking at you and smiling, damn him. "How about you, princess? Tea? It's quite calming."

You opened your mouth to refuse, but then paused. Calming was what you needed. "Yes, please."

The panther shifter nodded as he poured your cup, adding a splash of milk and no sugar, just the way you liked it. You thanked him as you took the cup and saucer, ignoring the flip-flop your heart did with the realization that he had paid enough attention to you to know how you liked your tea. Definitely not helpful in your current predicament.

"Alright." Kyle took a sip of his tea, placing it delicately back on its saucer. He glanced at the journal. "So, princess. It is easy to see your motivation for breaking into His Majesty's office, considering we have proof right here. How did you find out about this?"

You glanced to Ghost, quickly looking away. "I overheard a conversation about it."

"I see." Clearing his throat, Kyle peered at the journal. "So why did you feel the need to break in instead of just asking one of us?"

That was the question, wasn't it? You set your jaw. "None of you told me about it. Soap said it might have something to do with me, and at first...I thought if that were the case, surely one of you would let me know. But none of you did. I wasn't ready to be lied to again. I couldn't trust I would be given the truth when asked. I am the queen, I should have been informed immediately. Even without any connection to myself, I want to know what's happening to my people."

There was a moment of silence. Kyle let out a slow breath. "This one goes above me, princess. When we found the markings, we all thought it was nothing more than a very sick person taking his issues out on innocent people. Soap was the one who brought up a possible connection to you. He claims that this symbol," Kyle tapped the center one, the series of loops, "is one that represents earth. Life, he explained it. And this one..." His finger slid to a circle with lines coming off of it, "is something he claims to mean 'king'."

You blinked. "Why does Soap know them?"

"He does not," Ghost said, tone clipped.

Kyle gave him a look before meeting your gaze again. "Soap said the highland villages he grew up in, far to the  north, has some of these symbols carved into their oldest mountains and the temples within them. However, it is a lost language. It meant something to our ancestors, but the knowledge was forgotten with time. It related to rituals and worship of the old Gods. A few of the symbols have been studied, and meaning has been speculated, but..." The shifter shrugged. "We can hardly say for certain. Soap believes that this symbol for 'life' represents you, and the 'king' one is obvious enough. The other symbols he didn't seem too certain of, but he believes they all are related to you, somehow."

"Then why wasn't I informed?"

Kyle looked at Ghost again. "His Majesty did not wish to alarm you. Some of us wished to tell you, but the king seemed worried. If there was some connection to you, he did not want you further involved at the risk of your safety."

You felt a spike of anger shoot through you. "Just because he is my husband and mate, it does not mean he has the right to determine what I can or cannot do. I will decide what is safe for myself, and what I should or should not get involved in. He had no right."

"I told him you'd find out on your own," the shifter sighed. "This is something you will need to discuss with His Majesty when he returns. Speaking of..." Kyle crossed his arms. "Ghost, why did you decide to abandon His Majesty?"

Ghost stiffened, as if the accusation were a physical blow. "I had a feeling Her Majesty would try something. I told His Majesty that I felt a disturbance at the castle, and wished to investigate. I will be heading back to camp shortly."

At least that meant you wouldn't have to see him for a few more days.

"I see. Well, you better head out then. Konig, we can get you some ice if needed? And princess, it would be my pleasure to escort you back to bed."

You blinked. Even Ghost was looking at Kyle like he'd grown a second head. "That's it?" you asked. "I'm not going to be...punished?" Gods, the word just reminded you of whatever the hell happened with Ghost. It sent red to your cheeks. Ghost's pale eyes darted over to you for the slightest second, enough that you weren't sure you didn't imagine it.

Kyle shrugged, gathering the dishes back onto the service tray. "Honestly, princess, I would have done the same in your place. Either way, it is not my place to dole out punishment for this. If His Majesty deems it necessary, he will do so when he returns. I am also certain that Konig only joined because he wanted to help you, and I don't think that's deserving of punishment either. So no. I would rather get a couple more hours of sleep before the day starts, wouldn't you?" He smiled at you, and you dismayed at how beautiful the shifter was. It wasn't fair.

With no protest from anyone, Kyle ushered everyone out of the room. You felt the air pressure shift and settle, and looked over at Kyle. "Just in case anyone else gets any bright ideas," he explained before offering his arm to you. He glanced at the other two males, dipping his head. "Safe travels, Ghost. Rest well, Konig."

Then you were being escorted back to your room, where Kyle paused in front of the door. He stopped you before you could turn the knob, turning you to face him. Kyle's warm eyes were searching your face, concern pinching his brows together. "I know that was a lot to learn all at once. Are you alright, princess?"

Of course Kyle would be concerned about you after you clearly broke into his king's office. You didn't deserve his kindness. "I'm a bit...confused, but I'm okay. I think I have to wait for John and Soap to get back before I can really dig into anything."

Kyle searched your face for a moment before nodding. "Okay. I don't blame you for doing what you thought would get you the answers you needed. I wanted to tell you from the start. But if you ever feel unsafe, or worried, you can come talk to me. You can rely on more people here than Konig, you know. You have an entire household of people who care for you. Please do not forget that, or take it for granted."

Your breath left you in a rush of air. The shifter's expression was so open, his mahogany eyes full of concern and...affection? No, you likely were reading that wrong. But Gods, you truly did not deserve Kyle's kindness. So you dipped your head once in a nod. "I won't. I'm sorry, Kyle."

Another small grin lit up the male's features as he shook his head. "Nothing to apologize for, love. Now get some rest, alright?" His hand reached up to cup your cheek, sliding his thumb against your skin. His eyes suddenly flared, changing from an amber to a honey color only a few shades off from Konig's. His eyes fluttered, expression going slack.

You frowned. "Kyle? Are you okay?"

The shifter blinked twice, eyes returning to their usual deep brown before he gave you a wobbly smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Hm? I'm perfect, love. Now go to sleep. Goodnight, see you in the morning."

"Goodnight," you mumbled, opening your door. You watched his retreating figure for a moment before slipping into your room and shutting the door.

First Ghost with his Gods-damned talk about pinning and punishing you, and now Kyle. To be fair, the reaction to Ghost was merely...physical. He had a very commanding presence, and it was only natural for your body to react that way in that situation. Right? You had to ignore the small part of you that noted it meant you were attracted to him in some way.

But Kyle...Kyle was sweet. It was not the same domineering physical attraction to Ghost. No, Kyle's tenderness and open eyes made you melt. You already had two mates, and here you were lusting after other males. You didn't know what that made you, and didn't want to think about it.

You stripped down and crawled into bed, pulling the fur blankets over your head and praying that sleep would take away thoughts of Ghost holding you down while driving his hips into you, or of Kyle's lips on every part of your body, not just your forehead.

You were so fucked.

-   -   -

Kyle was not at breakfast, apparently already busy handling household affairs. Konig was there though, actually taking his mask off and eating at the table without anyone else there to see his bare face.

You stabbed a chunk of potato with your fork, frowning deeply at it. Konig lifted a brow at the action, neatly cutting a stack of pancakes with a fork and knife. "Stressed, Luney?"

"We got caught and nothing happened. I don't have any more answers. And now Kyle is avoiding me. I was supposed to join him in his duties today, but he sent a note saying my assistance was no longer needed."

Konig tilted his head. "Does seem a bit out of character for him."

"And I'm sure Ghost has made it back to camp by now, which means John and Soap already know I've broken in. Now I just have to wait for them to get back." You slumped down in your chair.

"Honestly, Luney, what are you worried about? His Majesty will likely be upset, but I hardly think he's going to tie you up and torture you." He paused. "Unless...you want him to?"

Your cheeks turned bright red, and you flung a piece of toast at the wolf shifter. He laughed, catching the bread before it could hit the ground and placing it on his plate. "Luney, His Majesty is a reasonable male. Kyle saw your intentions, and so will he. As for Kyle dismissing you..." Konig shrugged. "Just talk to him instead of brooding about it. Not like there's any reason for him to avoid you. He didn't seem terribly upset last night."

You thought back to the moments in front of your bedroom, of his shifting eyes. Had he realized something? Maybe he finally realized how pathetic you were, or how powerless. Either way, it was like he had some kind of realization. Maybe he saw the desire in your eyes, despite you already having two mates. He finally saw how greedy you were and wanted to keep his distance. The thoughts only served to make you more depressed, and you began tearing your toast into tiny pieces with your hands.

"I'll go see him later, make sure he eats lunch," you decided. "Until then I'm going to the library to search through the mating records."

Konig blinked. "Your Alextren's gotten that good?"

"Good enough that I should be able to count the number of names next to each other," you responded, shoving another piece of shredded toast into your mouth before washing it down with room-temperature tea. "You're welcome to join me."

-   -   -

Konig decided he needed exercise, so you were alone in the library, eyes aching from scanning rows and rows of Alextren script off a very large, very old tome. You were less than two thousand out from present day, which was no small feat.

Alton had sent up some coffee and a plate of shortbread cookies, and you made a mental note to demand John give the hobgoblin a raise when he got back, if he forgave you for breaking into his study. Hell, you'd bring it up even if he didn't forgive you.

You flipped a page, crinkling your nose as a layer of dust swirled in the air. Waving it away, you started at the top of the page. You were getting much better at reading Alextren, though the penmanship of the records was difficult to decipher. But in general, you could read passages of information and get the general gist of what it was talking about. Speaking would likely come last in your journey, something you could only improve with practice. Perhaps you should ask the others to start speaking to you in Alextren for the practice. Except Soap, if his dialect was as removed from standard Alextren as he claimed.

The lines of names nearly blurred together as you used your finger to keep track of where you were at. You dunked one of the sandy cookies into your cup of coffee, biting off the soaked half when you found it. A single name in the left column, and on the right...there were three names. One was written in normal size, but two more names had been added in a much smaller hand, likely added sometime afterward. You squinted, seeing the letters that indicated months and years. Indeed, one name was added two months later, and another over a year afterwards. A note was scribbled in the margins, but the handwriting was so looped and curled that you had no hope of making it out.

Three mates. Not one. Not two. Three. You already knew it was possible to have more than one mate since you were living proof, but...three? So, in theory, it was possible for you to have more mates. Kyle's lovely smile appeared in your mind, but you brushed it away. Surely if you had another mate, one of you would have realized it by now. Unless...the bond hadn't snapped into place it. After all, it took Konig over a decade for his bond to settle.

Pushing those thoughts away, you stood and hurried out of the library, heading towards the meeting room you knew Kyle would be working from for the day.

You knocked on the door, knuckles rapping twice against solid wood before you heard Kyle's voice from the other side, granting entry. You pushed the door open, bright-eyed. If the tome hadn't been so damned big, you would have brought it yourself, but the thing weighed almost as much as you did.

Kyle took in your appearance and frowned, setting his quill into a stand next to an open pot of ink. "Is everything alright, princess?"

"I found it," you blurted out.

"Found...what, exactly?" he asked, placing his palms on the table and standing up. The chair made a slight screech as the movement pushed it back, and Kyle was quick to get around the rounded table to stand in front of you, taking one of your hands and holding it between one of his. "What has you so spooked, love?"

The concern in his gaze made your heart ache, and you took a breathe to soothe the pain in your chest. "I found a record of someone having multiple mates. Three, to be exact."

Kyle's eyes melted into caramel. "Show me."

You tugged the tall shifter to the library, babbling about all the information you had discerned. The differing dates, the note written next to it. You hoped Kyle would be able to read it. The tome was on the table right where you left it, and you quickly pointed out the entry.

Kyle's eyes squinted as he leaned in, but they quickly widened in shock. "Indeed. It appears a Fae male recorded three mates. The first was a female, then two males. It's noted that each mating bond was confirmed at time of recording." He leaned back. "There has to be more."

You nodded in agreement. "Would it be possible that this is just the first instance of them all being recorded in one spot? Maybe before this, they recorded each instance individually?"

The male rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "It's possible, but I did not notice any names being mentioned more than once. I would have caught it." He reached for the tome, flipping through a few more pages, eyes scanning the rows and rows of names. "I guess it's also possible that prior to this entry, they only wrote down, or perhaps acknowledged, one mating bond. Similar to marriages."

You tilted your head. "Was marriage a thing back then in Alextre?" Indeed, the concept of marriage was somewhat new. It existed in high societies for the sake of alliances and the like, but it was mainly a human practice. The Fae had adopted it when new religion in the continent spread, claiming marriages sworn in front of the Gods were as sacred as mating bonds. Despite the claims of priests, Fae still held mating bonds in the utmost respect, honoring them beyond class lines and blood feuds. Before marriage was popularized with the Fae, Fae still had relationships. They just lacked any sort of formal claim or title, but they didn't need them. So long as both parties loved and respected each other, a mating bond wasn't necessary.

The thought made you pause. You had proved that you could be in love with more than one person at a time. Was that only because of the mating bonds they carried, or was your heart capable of loving multiple people regardless?

It was a philosophical question you didn't have the time to ponder, so you waited for Kyle's response. "No, marriage was not common practice. Marriage really only became popular in the past six hundred years or so. More recent than Theodric."

"Okay. But maybe from here on out we can find more?" you suggested, though the thought of having to go through more of the giant dusty books made you recoil a bit.

"Maybe. But we have the proof here, princess." Kyle nodded, sighing. "I'm glad. Maybe we should look for other mentions of these people. We have dates, so it could prove to be quite simple." He smiled at you, reaching out to touch your cheek. "We can start once His Majesty returns."

"Yeah. Sounds good." You returned Kyle's smile, though yours didn't reach your eyes. Kyle caught it though, and you saw the concern etched in his expression. "I'm just nervous about what he will say."

"His Majesty loves you," Kyle responded, taking a fresh sheet of parchment from the stack you had on the table. He folded it up and placed it in the crease of the book to hold the page, using another sheet to mark exactly which tome and page the information was on. "I would be surprised if he even got angry when Ghost told him, love. Do not fret."

"Sure." You chewed on your lip, and Kyle reached out to swipe his thumb over your lower lip.

"Do not," he whispered, eyes glued to your lips.

The temperature suddenly felt warmer, and your heart skipped in your ribcage as the tension in the air thickened. Kyle's hand slowly slid against your jaw, and you felt yourself wanting to draw nearer to him. Your hand slipped up to loosely grab his wrist, stepping close to him. Kyle's face inclined towards yours, and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed.

You felt a strange lurching in your very soul. "Kyle?" you whispered, not wanting to break the mood but knowing you needed to ask. To get confirmation.

"Yes, love?" His thumb was rubbing against your cheek now.

"When did you realize you were my mate, too?"

The shifter didn't even seem surprised by the question. "I suspected for some time. I finally felt it last night, though."

As you thought, then. You swallowed, then decided to make the move. You leaned in a touch more, pressing your lips to Kyle's. They were just as warm and soft as you imagined, and the sigh Kyle left out against your mouth made you realize he had been waiting for this, too.

The kiss was slow yet passionate. It was not too rough, though you felt a buzzing of urgency underneath your skin, driving you to claim, to take. It drove you to nip at one of the shifter's plush lips, and the male responded with a low sort of growl that reminded you he was indeed a panther. Luckily Kyle possessed more control than you, slowly pulling back.

"I almost feel bad for John. He's going to have so much to deal with when he gets back," you said with a soft chuckle.

Kyle's grin mirrored your amusement. "The poor dear. New sleeping schedule will be in order as well."

Chapter Text

You shifted anxiously in your seat, eyes flitting to the great doors of the dining hall. It was breakfast, but John and the others were due to be home today, putting you on edge.

Kyle, who had been so incredibly soft and sweet to you since admitting he was your mate, smiled at you. "Love, calm down. They likely will not return until after lunch."

"She seems to have convinced herself that the king plans on putting her head on a pike or something equally outrageous," Konig piped up from the wall behind you. The wolf shifter nearly slammed his head into a wall when you and Kyle told him of your new mate status, throwing his hands up and declaring he shouldn't even be surprised. Perhaps it was because the shock of having multiple mates was over, but after the initial reaction Konig calmed down fairly quickly, accepting the panther shifter into your strange circle.

Said shifter hummed, tilting his head at you. "He loves you, princess. Will he be disappointed? I think so. But he would not resort to violence. I doubt you'll even have any punishment beyond having to accept that you disappointed him."

"That is pretty bad," you agreed, frowning into your tea as you took a drink. "But I knew it would happen. I just saw it as a problem for later."

"Later is today," Konig grumbled, and you shot him a look over your shoulder. The shifter met your gaze in a challenge, so all you could do was sigh and turn back around.

"So we just pretend everything is normal and wait?"

"Yes." Kyle gathered his silverware onto his plate, stacking the dishes neatly. You now knew that he took care of his own dishes because his mother worked as house staff for a noble Fae family. He hated giving her more work, and the habit had stuck. Even though the staff in this household were all well treated, Kyle insisted that he had hands and legs and could take his dishes back just fine on his own. It only made you adore him more.

"Library?" you guessed. You had all been searching for mentions of the couple you found, going through records of the kingdom from the dates recorded in the mating records. However, with only Kyle really able to read anything, it was a slow process. Not to mention that the mated Fae were probably not nobility and more likely common folk, odds of their names popping up on anything except tax or land records was slim.

"Library." Kyle gave you one of his warm smiles, going around the table to gather your dishes up as well, planting a kiss on the top of your head as he did so. "See you there."

-   -   -

The library search once more pulled nothing. Konig was searching for any other records of multiple mates, but by now it was pretty obvious that it was a rare occurrence, and finding another log would take time, if there even was one.

"There had to have been Fae with multiple mates in Theodric," Konig mused. "Guess they prevented it from being public knowledge."

"The language all the old records in is no longer spoken, plus anything in any language other than Common was burned," you reminded the wolf, scanning court logs for mentions of any of the mated Fae's names.

Kyle gave you a slow look. "Love, you don't actually believe they would have burned all of it, do you?"

You placed your finger in your spot in the reading and frowned at him. "What do you mean? The book burnings were a large part of the campaign to make Common, well...common."

Konig grunted. "He means, Luney, that the monarchy likely would not have gotten rid of anything of value. Odds are, important records are hidden away somewhere in the castle. Likely guarded by Fae that are so old even death fears them. There is no way every old language spoken in Theodric was entirely wiped out. I would guess it's still spoken secretly, behind closed doors."

"That's..." You paused. "I guess it's possible."

"Trust me, Luney, people are usually not too keen on letting their cultures die out without a fight. The languages might have changed, but they're still kicking somewhere. Even your father learned other languages in secret. I bet he even speaks some of the old Theodric ones."

"Saying things like that could get him killed," you hissed, though you had to remind yourself that you were in Alextre, not Theodric. "Why wouldn't he have taught me?"

"To keep you safe," came Kyle's answer. "He might have taught you when you were older. I would not hold it against him. But it takes a very long time for languages to die completely. Those symbols on the deceased? They're from Alextre. The highlands, where Soap is from. That is a language that was ancient to the ancients."

"But Soap thinks he knows what some of them mean?" you asked.

Kyle nodded, straightening his back and wincing. "Yes. That is my point. It is a very old language, yet some of it still remains. Scholars cannot really agree on what the symbols mean, but locals claim to know a good number of them. The highlands have their own rituals, for specific holidays. They are still used, in clothing, body paint, or other parts of the celebration."

Traditional celebrations and rituals were a good way to get publicly executed and hung on a wall of a temple in Theodric. You frowned, looking at your two mates. "Theodric always says that other kingdoms, other lands are full of barbarians. But in truth...Theodric is the backwards kingdom, isn't it? It controls its people by taking away their identities, and uses the new religion as justification. Then it calls neighboring kingdoms dangerous, preventing anyone able from running to the borders. The humans are too poor to even dream of making it there in one piece. It's about power, isn't it?"

Kyle and Konig shared a look before Kyle answered. "Yes, love. Most kingdoms are. However, Theodric took things to the extreme. Scholars here say they didn't want anyone in Theodric knowing about the successful rebellion here, that it scared your nobility. People might get ideas. Though the bid for control in Theodric began long before our rebellion, mind you. It just made your monarchy tighten the reins a bit."

"They sent me here to die," you stated. You always knew it, but saying it out loud felt different. More real. Konig stiffened, but didn't deny it. "It was likely punishment for my father. For defying the king and being with a mortal. For raising me as a soldier instead of discarding me when he was told."

"I do not know enough about that side of it to say if you're right." Kyle wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in and kissing your temple. "You can ask His Majesty more about it, but the deal struck with our kingdom was quite odd. It offered an alliance, but it seemed almost too good to be true. It did seem like the Theodric king did not plan for you to make it to the border, but if you did I suspect he thought we would kill you, or worse. Your king likely does believe us to be barbarians, as most of the kings and their courts were before John."

"He's not my king," you snapped. "John is."

Your mate's eyes softened, his lips pulling into a warm, sincere smile. "I suggest using that line later, because I believe the carriage just pulled up."

Konig was at a window, peering into the courtyard, as if his ears hadn't detected it first. "Looks like they're home early, Luney."

Anxiety pumped from your heart and into every limb. You clung a bit tighter to Kyle, taking a steadying breath. "Let's go and greet them. No use delaying the inevitable."

"That's our girl." Kyle's praise eased your racing heart, and you all headed to the foyer.

-   -   -

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," Kyle greeted as the party made it through the doors, servants already hurrying to grab trunks off the carriage to carry them inside. You noted two new furs among the baggage, one a tawny brown and the other black. You'd ask what they hunted later.

Usually you would go to John's arms, give him a kiss. But you felt uneasy. Your eyes met his, and you bit your lip at the weariness you found there. He gave you the smallest of smiles, one that didn't reach his eyes. "I would like to take lunch before discussing what happened while I was away, Lunelle. If you find that to be acceptable?"

The way John spoke to you, it reminded you that you were a queen. All of the males treated you with respect, but mostly spoke to you as an equal. But for John, being an equal meant more. It made you his queen. You nodded. "Of course. You had a long journey. Take all the time you need."

"Thank you." John's gaze moved away from you, and he headed towards the dining hall without even bothering you give you a hug.

It stung, and you couldn't help but flinch. Soap's eyes flitted from John's retreating figure to you. "Don' take it personally, lass. He's by no means angry with ya."

"Just disappointed," you said quietly, eyes casting downwards.

"Exactly." Soap marked Kyle's comforting hand on your waist, eyes narrowing a bit. He looked to the fire wielder, but Kyle's attention was entirely on you. "Interestin'." Then he headed towards the dining hall.

Ghost lingered behind for a moment. Konig was glaring at him, but he ignored it as he studied the way Kyle leaned into you, the way you nodded along to whatever comforting words the shifter was murmuring to you. His expression did not change though, and he merely turned the other way to head up the stairs.

-   -   -

Lunch was so awkward you were starting to dismay your decision to eat in the dining hall instead of taking your meal in your room.

It was incredibly quiet. Soap occasionally spoke, asking harmless questions or telling stories about the hunting trip. But John never interjected, never smiled or laughed. You couldn't find the airiness to laugh past the heaviness of your heart at the moment, so all of the hyena's usual jests fell flat, dissolving back into silence. He eventually gave up.

But somehow the meal finished, though you had barely touched your plate. John frowned when he noted this, but said nothing as he stood. "Lunelle, I would like to speak in my room. Just the two of us. Any other business the lot of you has to discuss can be saved for later. Tomorrow. Just not today. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," was returned in a chorus, the other males giving each other half-confused, half-concerned looks.

"Take it easy on tha lass," Soap suggested as he patted John's shoulder, but the king ignored him.

"Shall we?" John kept his hand on your lower back the entire way to his bedroom. You passed your door, then made it to his. John waved a hand, disenchanting the lock and urging you inside.

There was already a small fire going, and the room was as cozy as you remembered it. It didn't match what you guessed was coming, a speech about how you should have just asked John about the murders, about how he was disappointed in you.

"On the bed," John ordered you when he saw you making your way to one of the chairs by the fire.

You frowned, confused, but obeyed. "Look, John, I'm sorry about what I did. I know I should have just asked you, but I didn't want to be lied to."

His brows rose. "I do not think you are sorry enough. Now, I can understand how you came to the conclusion you did. You saw the lack of information as lying by omission, and therefore took it upon yourself to get the information on your own. You did not believe that I, your king, husband, and mate, would tell you the truth." You didn't answer, and he nodded once. "As I suspected. Now, I cannot put the blame for that entirely on you. I should have ensured that you felt comfortable speaking to me about anything. Clearly you did not, so we will rectify this. I will no longer withhold information from you, even though I did so because I believed it was for your own good. I did not wish to put you in danger."

"I can handle myself," you answered.

"I know. I should have had more faith in you and your abilities, but I disregarded them because I alone made the decision that not telling you would be the best option. For that, I apologize. As spouses and mates we should keep more open communication. It looks like we both need to learn some communication skills, hm?" He smiled a bit, and you relaxed a fraction.

"I agree. I just want to be included. I'm queen, after all. I should be included with everything. I'm sorry I broke in instead of asking you first."

John was making his way around the bed, opening a chest. He pulled something out, but from here you couldn't see what. "And as I said, I do not think you are sorry enough. But you will be." John turned, and you saw a length of black rope in his hands. Your throat went dry. John advanced towards you. "Strip, Lunelle. I want everything off."

Your mouth popped open. "John, I--"

"This is your punishment, Lunelle. From here on out I only want you speak when spoken to. Do you understand?"

A heat was swirling in your stomach, your chest rising and falling as your breath picked up. "Yes, sir."

That earned you a smile. "Good girl. Now hurry up and take your clothes off for me, darling. I am not feeling very patient today."

A small ember of fear settled in your stomach, but you barely felt it from the heat of arousal. Gods, Ghost was right. You really did enjoy things like this. In any case, you removed all of your clothes and laid down on the bed, shivering as your bare skin met the air. Your nipples were already pebbled and hard, and you told yourself it was the chill, despite the fireplace keeping the room comfortably warm.

"Such a good girl," John praised as he moved over you. Still clothed, he straddled your hips as he grabbed your wrists, binding them together with the rope. "Gods, you look beautiful like this, Lunelle. Now, before we begin we need to establish some rules. You will take your punishment, but if for any reason you feel unsafe, uncomfortable, or if the pain becomes too much, we need to pick a word for you to communicate this to me. I will check in with you occasionally, but you may use your safe word at any time. As soon as the safe word is used, we will immediately stop. I will check in with you, we will talk, and we will be done for the day. However, if all you need is a break, you will also communicate this. What would you like your safe word to be?"

Your anxiety eased. Of course John would still have your safety in mind. He was a good male. "Lavender," you decided.

"Lavender," John repeated with a nod. "Alright. You may use your safe word at any time. If your mouth is indisposed, you will tap three times. I will be paying attention. I will also check in and make sure you remember your safe word if I think you are slipping at any point. You are in control here, Lunelle, even if it does not seem that way. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

John hummed in approval. "That's what I thought."

The king looked down at you, his eyes dragging over your naked form. His gaze felt like a caress, and was enough to make your pulse pick up. Slowly, the male reached out, his fingers trailing along your brows, down your nose, and across your lips. They dipped further, exploring the column of your throat, sweeping over your collarbones. He danced lightly over your breasts, ignoring your aching nipples, even as you arched into his touch.

"My, my, so needy. I left you with two mates, and neither of them took care of my queen?" He caught your look of surprise and chuckled. "I knew as soon as I saw the way Kyle was looking at you this morning. I am not mad. I am surprised he waited to claim this beautiful body, but I suspect he was being a good boy and waiting for permission."

John's hand was on your stomach now, and he lifted himself off of you so he could brush over your hips, moving down over your inner thigh. He stopped at your knee, gripping it and pulling your leg up and to the side. You felt air on your already wet pussy and gasped.

John let out a low grunt at the sight, moving in between your legs. "What a beautiful pussy. I have barely touched you, yet you are soaking wet for me." His eyes met yours. "My, my. You are quite the slut, my queen. Do you enjoy being tied up? Answer me. No lying."

His words only sent more heat to your core, more slick. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, I can tell." He leaned in, inhaling your scent deeply and closing his eyes. "I suppose a taste would not hurt..." His lips parted, and John dragged his tongue through your slit, groaning as you let out a soft moan. He delved back into you, though his lips and tongue were incredibly slow as they lapped you up, lips wrapping around your clit to suck before his tongue smoothed over the bundle of nerves. You could already feel yourself building up, getting closer and closer to release. Before you could reach your peak though, John pulled away.

You whined in disappointment, but the male chuckled. "This is a punishment, Lunelle." His hands found your breasts, palming them and giving each a squeeze. He rolled your hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger, making your back arch. Smirking, John released your mounds before his hands found your hips. "I want you laying across my lap, face-down."

The male sat on the edge of the bed, and you had a sinking feeling you knew what was coming. You struggled to get into a sitting position with your hands bound, but finally managed. You crawled on your knees to your mate, John helping you lay down. Your ass was draped over his lap, slightly elevated. Face buried into the furs beneath you, you felt one of John's strong hands slide over your back while the other smoothed over the mound of your ass, slipping between your legs to rub over your slightly exposed pussy.

The action made you whine, but his hand returned to your ass. "You are going to count for me, Lunelle. Loud and clear. If I do not hear you, or you miscount, we will be starting from zero. You will receive fifteen spankings. Do you understand?"

Your heart jumped. "Fifteen?! I said I was sorry!"

A hand came down onto your ass so hard you squealed. "I did not ask for your opinion on how many spankings you deserved. All I needed was a confirmation you understood. For speaking out of turn, you will receive an extra five spankings. The one you just received does not count. You will receive twenty spankings, and you will count every one. I will ask you again, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

John rubbed your skin. "Good girl. That was not so hard, was it? Now remember, you must count." He brought his hand down, and your whole body reacted. "Count."

"One," you responded, voice strained.

You received a hum of approval, and his hand came down on your ass again. You counted, each slap of his hand growing more and more sensitive. You were sure your ass was bright red now, but you could also not deny the way the pain brought a softer layer of pleasure with it. Your pussy was absolutely soaking.

"Ten," you gasped out once you finally made it halfway through.

John rubbed your sore skin. "How are we doing, Lunelle?"

"I'm okay," you responded, breathing labored. Your bound hands were a bit uncomfortable, underneath your chest and held against your sternum.

"What's your safe word?" your mate checked, still soothing your sore rear.

"Lavender," you responded.

"Good. I am going to keep going then. Keep counting for me, darling. You are doing so well." His hand left your skin, and you braced yourself as the impact came again.

You counted, being careful not to lose track. The thought of losing track on purpose had a slight appeal, but this was your first time being spanked. You didn't think you could handle another twenty, so you tucked the idea away for some other time. You made it through all twenty, and when you were done John once more began rubbing your sensitive skin.

"You did perfect," he praised. "Such a good girl, my darling queen."

The praise made your head feel fuzzy, and you sighed out, eyes fluttering as you felt his fingers dip into your folds again. "My goodness, you are soaked," the king noted. Without warning he pushed two fingers into your entrance, and you keened, hips lifting and attempting to push further against his digits. John placed his free hand on the small of your back to prevent you from moving further, thrusting his fingers in and twisting them so he could curl them right against that spot that made your vision spotty.

"Please," you gasped, hoping speaking out of turn wouldn't get you spanked more.

"Please what, Lunelle?"

"Please make me cum," you squeaked out.

The king chuckled. "What do you call me, Lunelle? Who am I?"

You wanted to cry. John was keeping you dancing at the edge, teetering towards sweet relief but not quite. "Please make me cum, my king," you nearly sobbed.

"That's my girl." But John removed his fingers, and you lifted your head to stare at him in disbelief. He tilted his head. "You begged beautifully, but I am afraid this is still a punishment. You will cum when I decide you do."

This male would be the death of you. Your body was buzzing with pent up energy, so close to sweet release you wanted to grind your hips in the air, to beg for any sort of friction. John instead held your hips and flipped you onto your back, picking you up and setting you on the center of the bed.

John stood, taking his clothes off methodically, even folding them before placing them on a chair. He removed his pants, and you saw just how hard and ready he was for you, the head of his cock red and glistening with precum.

He made his way back to the bed, grabbing you by your restrained wrists until you were on your back, but your head was hanging ever so slightly off the side of the bed, neck supported by the edge. Blood was rushing to your head, but the slight discomfort was shadowed by John's thick cock presented to you. Not as large as Konig, but impressive in his own right.

"Open," was the only command you received before John had pushed his cock past your parted lips and into your mouth. There was no warming up, no shallow thrusts. No; John pushed his entire cock down your throat in one go. Unprepared, you gagged and coughed around him, tears forming in your eyes and falling towards your eyebrows in your current position.

The tightness caused by your gags made the king groan, one of his hands settling over your throat to feel his cock there. He set a pace quickly, thrusting into your mouth. Drool was all over your cheeks, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

The hand on your throat tightened, further restricting your airways. You really had to concentrate on breathing through your nose, but your body was panicking at the lack of air. John pressed his cock all the way into your throat, cursing lowly before he pulled his cock out and removed his hand, letting you breathe. The male's breathing was labored as his eyes found yours. "Are you alright? Can you keep going?"

Your throat felt raw, chest burning as you struggled to get air in. But the lightheadedness, the feeling of John filling your mouth and throat with his cock, using you like a toy...you were more aroused than you had ever been. "Yes," you managed out in reply.

John made a noise in the back of his throat, wiping at your face before he gripped your throat again, fingers coercing your mouth open. Moments later he was pushing back down your throat, his pace this time much more brutal. The king was grunting far more now, and you could feel his cock twitching on your tongue.

Eventually he pulled out, fist coming around the base of his cock to keep himself from spilling down your throat. "Up," he commanded, though his actions were gentle as he moved you away from the edge of the bed. Your head swam as the blood moved out of your head, neck protesting slightly as it returned to its usual position.

John wasted no time in pushing your legs apart, bending your knees back so your hips lifted. He swore as he saw how soaked your pussy was, sinking his cock into you immediately.

The satisfaction of being full of your mate's warm, hard cock was enough to make your eyes roll back. You whimpered and moaned as John's hips drove into yours, his eyes dark with primal need as he stared down at you. "That's my girl," he praised, thumbs wiping away remnants of tears from your eyes. "Gods,  Lunelle, you are sucking my cock in. Did my queen need her king's cock this badly? Poor thing." He leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss. It was still somehow sweet, despite his tongue hungrily licking into your cavern.

"My queen," he gasped out, pulling away from your lips to mouth at your neck. "My mate. Let me mark you. Please, darling, I need it."

You felt like you were floating, your mate's cock constantly driving against your sweet spot. "Yes," you managed out, voice raspy and weak. "Yes."

That was all John needed before his lips parted and he sank his teeth into your shoulder. You half expected him to claim the opposite side of your neck, but you knew mating marks were generally a personal choice on placement.

The feeling of the king's teeth breaking your skin sent a spike of pain-laced pleasure, and you let out a soft cry as you came around his cock, pussy clamping down around him, walls fluttering.

John growled, pulling back from your skin. His lips were tinted red with your blood, and he moved his head back to expose his throat to you. "Mark me, Lunelle."

You couldn't reach for him with your hands bound, but you managed to find your spot all the same. You sank your teeth into the upper part of his pec, teeth tearing through the skin until you tasted the metallic tang of blood on your tongue. That was all it took for John to lose it, the male gasping as he stilled inside you, emptying himself.

You whimpered as you laid back, and John gathered you in his arms as he thrusted through the last throes of your releases, cock still twitching inside of you. You felt the male soften, but he stayed inside of you, making your heart warm with the feeling of connection.

"So," you managed out, clearing your throat to try to rid it of its hoarseness. "Am I forgiven?"

John finally pulled back, fingers deftly untying the knots binding your wrists. "Lunelle, I forgave you the moment I saw you this morning. I understand why you did it. I can only be upset with myself. I will do better for you from here on out."

Your wrists were free, and you twisted them, rubbing at the marks left behind.

John pressed gentle kisses to your skin. "Time to get cleaned up."

John bathed you, covered the rope burn in a minty ointment, then tucked you in bed. Dinner was eaten with John in his room, and he feasted on you for dessert before you fell asleep in his arms.

Tomorrow you would return to your other issues, to the questions you had for Soap. You would avoid Ghost the best you could, and you would begin to find answers.

No more secrets. 

Chapter Text

Soap threw a fit when Kyle told him--and technically Ghost--about his new mated status.

"Well it 'ardly seems fair!" he protested. "When do I get to mate with the bonnie lass, eh?"

"Soap, I do not think it works that way," John admonished lightly. You were all at morning court, going over whatever happened while the three males were away on their hunting trip. Konig was even invited today.

"Once is a coincidence, twice is fate," he muttered unhappily, thick arms crossed over his chest causing his shirt to strain a bit.

"Moving on." John ignored Soap's sulking. "I see you found a record of multiple mates. Only the one?"

"So far," Kyle confirmed with a nod. "They had three. We will keep searching. I'm not sure if three is a standard, or if any number is theoretically possible," his eyes flitted to Soap, "but we will look further."

"Do we know anything about the mated Fae in question?" John continued, making notes.

"It's likely they weren't anyone of note, so we couldn't find anything in court records. They were listed as living together in tax records, but that's it," you answered. "Would it have even been strange, back then?"

John hummed. "Hard to say. They may have indeed only recorded one mate in multiple pairings prior to that record, or other cases were never reported. I am unsure how helpful finding any records will be. We have confirmed our case is not isolated, which gave us the validation needed to ease our anxieties. Perhaps we should change focus to your magic, Lunelle."

"Unless you still believe yourself to be a siphon." Ghost's voice was cold, flat. His eyes were the same where they peered at you over his dark mask, embroidered with a skull design.

Your fingers twitched as you thought of stealing it and adding flowers and butterflies to the design, just to piss him off. "We've already established I'm not," you snapped.

"Play nice," the king admonished lightly. He gave you and Ghost even looks. "Anything else?"

Konig nudged you, and you had to push past your annoyance at the wraith to nod, looking towards Soap. His arms were still crossed, but his expression was neutral, so at least he wasn't pouting anymore. "Soap, you said you know the symbols on the victims, right? They're from your homeland?"

That sobered the hyena shifter, his arms dropping as he leaned towards you. "Aye, I recognized them immediately."

"And you're sure about the symbols? For 'life' and 'king'?"

He nodded. "I am. I also think..." He paused, glancing at Kyle thoughtfully. "I ken another. I was no' so certain, but I am now. It's 'fire'."

"Fire?" You also looked at the panther shifter. "That...okay. You think it has to do with me? Couldn't it just be John? 'Life' and 'fire' are a bit vague, but 'king' feels pretty obvious."

He shook his head, rubbing at the stubble along his square jaw. "I cannae say. It's intuition, lass. 'Life' is at the center. Not 'king'."

"Connecting Her Majesty to 'life' is grasping at straws," Ghost spoke up again. "And, what? The symbol connects to her elemental gift, and the fire one to Kyle's, but His Majesty merely gets 'king'? You do think 'fire' is connected to Kyle because he's her mate, yes? But the king? No connection to his powers? The symbols are incredibly vague, Johnny, you are merely interpreting them in an incredibly biased way based on something you have already decided on in your head."

He was a bit harsh, but he did have a point. Why wouldn't the symbol for 'queen' be used for you? Or anything else, really?

"The language is incredibly symbolic," Soap responded with a frown. "It's less about the actual, literal meaning, and more abou' what they mean to tha user. It's intentions that give the meaning."

"So for all intents and purposes, this is more of a painting than a text?" Kyle suggested.

"Aye." Soap looked relieved.

"Wonderful. Art; the medium of clear meaning with absolutely zero room for personal interpretation." Ghost was in a pissy mood today.

You were getting irritated, and did not like the way he was speaking to your mates, or Soap, who was your...friend. Yes. Friend. "Ghost, I don't know why you're being such an ass today, but it's not exactly helpful. Even if you don't believe what Soap is saying, he clearly has more knowledge on this than you do." So much for doing your best to avoid the wraith. But when he was in this kind of an attitude, it was easy to forget how he made you feel in the study. That was good.

Ghost's silver eyes flared with irritation, and he placed a palm on the table, eyes narrowing as he opened his mouth, likely to snap back at you or insult you or something equally infuriating. Konig had a hand on your knee, squeezing, trying to soothe before this really got ugly. Everyone was saved by the king.

"Enough," came John's voice, carrying a layer of authority that even you felt compelled to obey. "While you do make some good points, Ghost, you are being unnecessarily harsh. We should be working together, not arguing over semantics. Soap, do you have any other ideas on the remaining three symbols?"

John passed the hyena shifter the illustration, and Soap stared at it, brow pinching. "'Fraid not, Your Majesty. My apologies."

"That is alright, no need for apologies. This is a very old, very sacred language. Do you believe there are others back in your village who would be able to read them, perhaps interpret the creator's intentions?"

Soap met John's eyes, and he nodded. "Aye. The elders."

The king nodded, settling his hands over his stomach. "Then it is settled. A trip to the highlands is in order."

There was a beat of silence, everyone looking at each other around the table. Eventually Kyle spoke up. "Your Majesty, do you intend for all of us to go...?"

"It would be ideal, but I am afraid it is not currently possible. I have duties to attend to, and this matter should be solved quickly. Soap, obviously you will be going, and you will be taking lead. Ghost, you will go with him."

It took a moment of thought before you were speaking up. "I'm going," you blurted out.

Ghost's eyes were basically slits now. No one else spoke. John inclined a brow.

"Then so am I," Konig said, squeezing your thigh again.

Now John was looking at Konig, his hands moving back to the table. "The highlanders are very wary of outsiders. They may be less inclined to help if they believe their knowledge could get in wrong hands."

That made you frown. "Outsider? John, I'm Queen. They are my people. I'm not an outsider anymore."

Luckily, Soap spoke up. "Bringing her might be good, Yer Majesty. Goin' right there and askin' about the glyphs could be a bit much. But if we say tha lass is on a tour, as queen..." He shrugged. "They can focus on the lass while we ask around."

He made it sound like you would be no more than a distraction, but it was better than being left behind.

"Alright. Then Lunelle may go as well," John agreed. "However, Konig, you will stay behind. Two outsiders will likely be a bit too much for them."

Konig stiffened, and your eyes met his. You hadn't been apart in...years. Though this wouldn't be for long, it was a foreign feeling. But you would be fine. You could handle yourself, and you would have Ghost and Soap.

The wolf swallowed. "I don't like the thought of her going without one of her mates."

Soap frowned deeply, and looked like he was about to sulk again. John's eyes slid to Kyle, who nodded once, a slight dip of his chin. "I can go. Besides, princess will need help communicating." He grinned crookedly at you.

You blinked. "I will?"

"Aye." Soap had snapped out of his pouting quite quickly, and was now grinning. "The elders don' speak Common, lass. The young ones do, but they prefer Alextren." You remembered Soap saying the Alextren in the highlands was barely Alextren, and your heart squeezed with anxiety.

"Don't worry, the younger villagers can also speak standard Alextren," Kyle assured you. "It will be good practice."

There was another brief moment of silence, then John nodded. "Alright, then it is settled. Johnny, do you mind sending a message to your village to inform them of the queen's intention to pay visit? We will give them a few days to prepare before you all embark. The roads are not exactly safe this time of year, but time is of the essence. I trust you all to take care of yourselves."

"A small convoy will be best," Ghost added. "Less likely to attract unwanted attention."

John paused in thought. "You are right. You will not have an entire procession, then. Likely for the best; you can travel faster that way."

John dismissed the meeting, and everyone dispersed. Soap went to write the letter, Konig was talking to Kyle, and Ghost dissipated into shadow and disappeared somewhere. You approached John, placing a hand on one of his strong, capable arms. "Thank you," you said sincerely.

Your mate blinked. "For what, darling?"

"Trusting me. To do this, and to protect myself."

The king's shoulders rolled. "I am not incredibly happy not to be with you, but you know your limits. Plus, you will have Johnny, Kyle, and Ghost. They will protect you as well."

"Not so sure about Ghost," you mumbled, eyes casting downward.

John chuckled. "Ghost is abrasive, yes. However, his combative nature is a good sign. The people he really cannot stand, he ignores. Make no mistake, darling, Ghost would put his life on the line for you in a heartbeat." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Now be good and go change. Johnny wants to resume your combat lessons."

You could feel your muscles aching already.

-   -   -

After a grueling sparring session with Soap, where he taunted and teased you about your puny muscles, you finally managed to get out of one of his holds by breaking his nose. He let out the loudest laugh you had heard yet, blood covering his chin and mouth.

At least you were praised, though the effect was diminished by the sickening crack as Soap set his nose, grinning through the blood. You decided training was done.

While you dabbed sweat from your face and neck, and Soap mopped up blood from his own, you tilted your head. "What are the highlands like?"

Soap glanced over at you, brows lifting in thought. "Well...they haven't changed much in tha last...well, ever. Tha people enjoy tradition. Keep it sacred. Study up on your Alextren, princess. It will help them warm up to ya."

You crinkled your nose. You could do basic sentences now, but anything beyond daily conversation would prove to be difficult. It was looking like you were going to rely heavily on Kyle for the trip, since you were doubtful Ghost would provide any assistance.

Soap must have read the anxiety on your face, because he approached you and smoothed out a stray lock of your hair. "Don' fret, princess. They are good people. Once they see yer heart, they'll love ya. Trust me." He smiled, though the lingering blood in his teeth made it more frightening than comforting.

"When do you think they'll reply?"

"By tomorrow, I imagine. They'll call council, but even those old hags cannae deny their queen." Soap drank deep from his waterskin, washing the remaining blood in his mouth away. "Hope you're ready for a long journey, lass."

Soap was right, because the next day John received a reply, and everyone began preparations for you--the queen--to be formally presented to the highlanders.

You felt oddly nervous, as if you were meeting Soap's parents or something. Which, you supposed, wasn't entirely impossible. "Soap, do your parents still live in the highlands?" you asked as you watched him saddle up his horse. It had been three days since receiving the reply, and your little cadre would be leaving soon. It was barely past dawn, but your nerves barely allowed you to sleep, even with John's arms locked around your waist the entire night.

Soap's blue eyes shuttered. "No, lass. Me mother made her journey to the Eternal a long time ago. As for me father...honestly, I don't give a shite if the bastard is dead or alive. He was banished from the highlands, so ya won't be seein' him."

Your mouth popped open. He spoke about his father with a layer of venom you had not heard from Soap before. You glanced over at Kyle, who had paused his own motions of saddling his horse, and he merely shook his head at you slightly. Message received; don't ask.

"I'm sorry to hear that," was all you could think to reply. "May your mother find peace and rest eternal." That was the general response to hearing of a death with the Fae, anyway.

"Appreciate it, lass." Soap gave you a crooked grin, and you felt relieved he was back to his usual self. "Ya say goodbye to your pup yet? We'll be leavin' soon."

"Going to do that now," you muttered, making your way to your mate, who was strapping one of your trunks to the carriage you were provided with. You had protested that you could ride your horse as well, but it was no use. The bite of the cold this morning stopped your protests anyway, and you were grateful you'd at least be sheltered from the worst of the wind. It was still winter, after all, and you'd be venturing into the mountains.

The wolf shifter noticed you immediately, turning to pull you into his arms with a sigh. "Be safe, Luney."

You grinned at him. "You know I will be. Soap might drive me insane, but at least I have Kyle as a buffer."

He nodded, kissing the top of your head through the fabric of his mask. "I'm sure Ghost won't prove to be a fun travelling companion, either. I'm glad Gaz is going."

"Me too," you admitted. "Will you be okay, though? With John?"

Konig would be taking up some court duties, and you were glad. John was finally including Konig and making him an official member of court. He would be taking over the others' responsibilities, aiding John in running things while the rest of you were gone. Hopefully they would get closer, and Konig would feel connected to more than just you here.

"I'll be fine, Luney," he assured, eyes bright even in the watery early morning sun that filtered through a layer of clouds that felt ever-present. "Stay close to Gaz, he won't let you freeze."

You laughed, but you knew it was true; Kyle apparently didn't even feel the cold, with his fire gifts keeping him warm at all times. "I will. He'll be sharing my tent, too."

"Don't rub it in." Konig grunted, giving you another tight hug. "See you soon, beautiful." He lifted his mask up just enough to press his lips to yours without the mask getting in the way, then released you.

John was your next stop, the king halting his conversation with Ghost to beam at you and gently stroke your pink cheek. "Preparations all finished, Lunelle?"

You nodded, ignoring Ghost's usual lingering gaze on you. You felt like the wraith was always staring at you these days, as if he couldn't trust you not to do something foolish if he looked away for even a moment. Maybe he'd never let you live down breaking into John's study. That would be dreadfully annoying.

"Everything is ready to go," you responded, wrapping your arms around the king's waist. "I'll miss you. I hope you have fun with Konig."

"I look forward to learning more about what kind of male he is," John said warmly. "If anything happens, send word immediately. You will be in good hands. Do not let the old crones scare you once you get there; they will decide very early on what they think of you, and they would be foolish not to see your charms. Be careful not to let the highlanders goad you into drinking too much, either. Those lot are known for their love of the bottle."

"I will," you laughed. "I've got Kyle to be a voice of reason if nothing else."

"Ghost as well. Right, Si?" John called, quirking a brow at Ghost. But the wraith had gone stiff. You realized what it was--Si. John let Ghost's real name--or at least part of it--slip. Ghost hadn't given this information to you readily.

You knew Soap's real name, of course, but Ghost...no one ever used his. You assumed the others knew it, but it was likely that he kept it guarded. Konig kept his birth name a secret as well, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was actually Konig. You hoped one day you would be privy to such information. With Konig, you had accepted that if he hadn't told you his real name yet, he likely never would. But Ghost? You were his queen. You could technically find his real name for yourself, but that felt like an invasion of privacy. You wanted it to come on his terms, but you wouldn't lose sleep if you never knew it. It was mostly curiosity, the desire to know why Ghost acted the way he did.

John, also realizing what had happened, frowned. "Apologies, brother."

Ghost shook his head once. "Nothing to apologize for." He gave you a look, as if warning you against using the snippet of his name, before stalking off.

The king watched him retreat, sighing. "Now he shall be upset with me for weeks."

"You didn't say his entire name. As far as I know, it could be anything." You pecked him on the cheek. "He'll get over it. I am his queen and therefore outrank him, so I'm technically privy to that sort of information anyway."

John's eyes were soft as they scanned you. "Yet you have not once pried."

"His real name is of no consequence to me at the moment. If he ever decides to tell me, it's on his terms. I don't mind." Though you'd be lying if you said you wouldn't silently wonder to yourself about it, trying to connect the dots of the enigma that was Ghost. You barely had anything to go off of, so the single syllable was too precious to just let go. Si.

"I appreciate that, darling. Be careful," John murmured to you.

"I will." A sweet kiss from your mate, and then Kyle was leading you towards the carriage. If everything went to plan, you would be gone for just over a week. Not long, but long enough that you knew you would feel the ache being apart from two of your mates.

But you had a feeling you'd be getting to know your newest mate--as well as the other two males accompanying you--very well during this trip. Whether they liked it or not.

Chapter Text

Cold had taken on a whole new meaning.

You experienced cold before. It got cold in Theodric, even snowed a bit. Some of the border camps you had been to also grew quite chilly, and soldiers huddled around fires while telling war stories to stave off the cold.

However, that cold and this cold were entirely different. "Why," you gritted out through clenched teeth, attempting to keep them from chattering, "did we have to come in the dead of winter?"

Kyle, who had not so much as shuddered, wrapped his arms tighter around you. He was like a furnace, and you leaned into his chest, burying your face into his neck. The shifter winced as your cold nose pressed to the sensitive skin, but he didn't pull away.

"Someone was impatient and wanted answers about a maniac's killing rituals," Ghost replied, voice as icy as the stream nearby. He was sitting by the fire as well, cloak drawn around his shoulders while he turned a rabbit he hunted down over the fire. His casual mask was on, but you had spotted the mask adorned with an elk skull among his belongings. You wondered if he'd wear it into the highland villages exclusively. That would sure help the locals warm up.

Kyle gave Ghost a look, one of his hands now on your cheek, rubbing warmth into the pink flesh. "Ghost," was his only word of warning.

You huffed out a sigh, the breath materializing before you in a cloud. "I know you don't believe it has anything to do with me, and it might not. But if we can figure out the killer's motives and stop him, we're saving innocent lives. That alone is worth it."

"People die every day, Your Majesty. It would be foolish to presume you could stop that." The wraith broke a branch in half, tossing it onto the fire. You had no idea where he found dry wood, or if Kyle had something to do with it.

"Yes, but if I can prevent even one person from suffering, I will do so," you snapped. You shivered again, and Kyle sighed. Gripping onto your mate, you frowned. "I'm not wasting my energy explaining why you should be a good person."

Kyle gave you a pleading look, but Ghost didn't reply. You didn't want to see if he was glaring at you, or if he had disappeared into the shadows again. The male was infuriating. You knew eventually you'd be driven to turn your verbal sparring matches physical, but in this weather you barely wanted to move. All you wanted to do was stay wrapped up in Kyle's warmth.

The panther shifter sighed. "Soap, mind the rabbit?"

"Aye," the other responded, so you guessed Ghost had disappeared somewhere. Figured.

"You two are like a cat and mouse, except I can never be sure who the mouse is," Kyle murmured, warm fingers working into your hair, massaging your scalp. You let out a hum, and he crooked a grin. "Guess this makes you the cat today, love."

"I don't even know why he has a problem with me," you practically whined. "I could understand him getting upset about my break-in, but his dislike for me started well before then! I didn't do anything to him. He won't even give me a chance." Well, he didn't treat you with dislike when he was practically rubbing himself against you back in the--no. You were not going to think about that right now, in the arms of your mate who would absolutely scent your arousal.

"To be fair, tha lad near ignored me for a year," Soap informed you.

"How did you get him to stop? Though I don't know if ignoring would be better than what he's been doing."

Soap chuckled. "I earned his respect, princess."

You blinked, swinging your head to look at the hyena shifter. "How?"

Soap's grin was feral. Hyena indeed. "I bested the bonnie lad in a fight."

You didn't know how Ghost could be bonnie if he hid his face all the time, but it just reminded you that the other males had likely seen him without that stupid skull mask. 

"So I have to beat him in a fight? Great, like that will happen."

Kyle ran another soothing hand through your hair, working out the tangles. "Earning respect comes in all sorts of forms, love. I saved his life while we were defending a village a long time ago."

You huffed. "My options are saving his life or beating him?"

Soap cackled. "I'm sure ya will figure something out, lass."

"Unlikely."

-   -   -

If you thought it was cold during the daytime, night was beyond your imagination. If you didn't have Kyle tightly wound around you, you would absolutely be in danger of losing some toes, maybe even a bit of your nose.

But the panther shifter, unaffected by the freezing temperatures, wrapped himself around you. He wore minimal clothing so his body heat could be as close to you as possible, and you could feel every line of hard muscle beneath his undershirt. He had mentioned wryly that you'd warm up faster if you were both naked, but you refused. Not because you were opposed to cuddling with Kyle naked--quite the opposite--but because the idea of having to take your clothes off made a shiver wrack your frame.

Soap had shifted to a hyena--something you hadn't yet seen--briefly, his fur sandy and spotted in dark brown. Hyenas were more suited to warm temperatures though, and Soap shifted back to his Fae form, snoring away in the tent he shared with Ghost next to yours and Kyle's.

The tent kept the wind out, and Kyle kept your heat in. You wondered briefly how Ghost was faring, then dismissed it. He'd be fine. He'd probably snap at you for even worrying.

You squirmed, and Kyle slipped a hand over your neck, dipping back into the opening at the back of your shirt to press his hand against the space between your shoulders. "Still cold?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm just--are Ghost and Soap going to be okay in this?"

Kyle's white teeth flashed in the dark as he grinned. "They will be fine, princess. Your intolerance to these temperatures is partly because you are not acclimated to it. The other half is your human blood. Fae can survive in colder conditions than these, and both Soap and Ghost grew up in Alextre. They will be fine, I promise."

Just another thing your human side made you weak to. You frowned. "If I were fully human...?"

Kyle understood your question. "With proper resources, you would not freeze to death. However, humans who try to camp in this sort of weather usually cannot escape frost bite on some extremities. The skin turns red, but as it dies it begins to turn black. After that--"

"I've seen frostbite," you cut him off, cringing at memories of war. Now that you thought of it, it was always the human soldiers who came back with blackened fingers, noses, cheeks. The skin would crack and bleed, and you saw more than one career die at the loss of those fingers. The Fae soldiers never had the same issues, the same devastating injuries.

Kyle's hand rubbed circles into your skin in silent comfort. "They will be fine," he repeated. "Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another long day. The snow in these mountains adds another few days' travel. You will need your strength."

You pressed your face to Kyle's warm, strong chest. You allowed the warm, spicy scent of him to comfort you, and in no time you drifted off into sleep. But not even Kyle's presence could protect you from the horrific nightmares full of moaning soldiers stretching their black and red hands out, mouths drawn impossibly low at the corners as they begged you to save them.

The nightmares continued until Kyle shook you awake in the morning with a frown on his face. Your eyes flew open, chest heaving as your heart hammered against your ribcage. You felt a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body, though Kyle was already dabbing it away from your face. "Nightmares?" he guessed.

You nodded, gulping as you turned towards him, fisting your hands into his shirt.

"I get them too, sometimes," he whispered, and you were grateful he didn't pry or ask for more details. Kyle held you for as long as he could, but you felt his body tense. Noises could be heard from the neighboring tent, and you knew it was time to get up. You sighed, and Kyle's lips twisted apologetically. "Sorry, love."

"It's okay," you grumbled, rallying all of your willpower to climb out of the bed roll and into your outer layers. You had two layers of gloves on, a pair of fingerless gloves encased in fur-lined mittens. You didn't enjoy mittens since they restricted use of your hands, but these were delightfully warm. You attached your sword to your hip, then yanked your boots on.

Everyone worked silently to pack up the tents, and a breakfast of cinnamon rolls--courtesy of Alton, Gods bless him--and cured meat was eaten on the road.

You had taken to spending the mornings in the carriage, but after lunch you generally demanded to ride your horse instead, though when the sun began to dip you begrudgingly headed back into the protection of the carriage.

You attempted to sleep a bit more in your carriage, but the cold that permeated the air along with the jostling of wheels on the uneven, snowy ground prevented you from doing so. Sighing, you opened a window, blinking as you saw Ghost riding alongside your carriage. The males likely switched positions in shifts.

The wraith's silver gaze slid to you. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

You opened your mouth. You were about to ask how much longer until lunch, but decided against it. "Are you cold?" you asked instead.

Ghost lifted a brow. "No."

What a delightful conversationalist, you thought disdainfully. "This air feels like it burns my lungs." Why were you still talking? You should shut the window.

You could feel more than see the cruel smile Ghost gave you. "Have you tried holding your breath?"

Your mouth popped open, breath rushing out in a cloud. Your brows drew together. "No need to be hateful, Ghost."

He blinked, expression wiping clean. "Hateful? Your Majesty, I do not--" But he cut himself off, head whipping to the side. "Soap, the lead. Gaz, stay by the carriage." Ghost's hard gaze locked on your confused one. "Stay in the carriage."

"I can help," you began to insist, but Ghost gave one firm shake of his head.

"Hand on your sword, Majesty. You have the element of surprise on them if they do not realize you can defend yourself. Now for fuck's sake, stay in the carriage." And Ghost was gone, likely lagging back behind your carriage.

You saw Kyle replace him, your mate jerking his chin at the open window in a silent order to close it. You frowned, closing it but placing your hand over the pommel of your sword. Your hands were twitching, itching to draw it, but the carriage hardly gave you the room for that. You clenched your jaw, tilting your head as you strained for any sounds. You didn't pick up on any, but you were aware the others had better hearing than you. Whatever Ghost sensed, it was definitely there.

Your carriage slowed but continued moving, and your breathing picked up. All you could hear was the rattling of your carriage and the dampened sounds of the horses' hooves on the thick snow. Your heart was in your throat as your limbs tightened, coiling in the familiar anxiety before a battle. The daytime was an awfully bold choice to rob someone in--assuming that was what would be happening, anyway. But at night people ran the risk of death by exposure, so you supposed daytime was the only option. Desperation and hunger drove people to incredible lengths after all, and if this was only a robbery you hoped the Fae males would spare the perpetrators.

There was a shout, and then everything happened at once.

With the attackers now in range, you picked up on roughly a dozen men, the clanging of weapons cutting through the cold winter air. You were aching to leap from your carriage, to at least see what was happening. You would go mad stuck in here while the three males fought.

You didn't have to wait for long though, and the door to your carriage was pried open. The leering face of a lesser Fae, some sort of troll by the looks of him, greeted you as his purple-gray tinged hands reached for you. "Come here, lady," he called out in Alextren, voice high-pitched and grating.

You bared your teeth at him as you reared back, sending your boot right into the center of his chest. You must have caught the troll by surprise, because even with his hulking size he stumbled back.

"Lunelle!" Kyle called out, bursts of flame flashing orange as he felled one enemy, heading towards you.

You didn't need saving, though. You were a force of nature.

You jumped from your carriage, drawing your mother's sword as soon as your feet hit the ground. The troll had already gotten to his feet and was coming towards you, so you met him halfway. He raised his weapon, a short mace with a barbed end. You immediately recognized how slow his movements were, his size slowing him down. Using that to your advantage, you made the first move.

Charging towards the ugly creature, you ducked to avoid the first swing of the mace. Your sword cut across his abdomen on your way up, and as he glanced down at the purple-hued blood seeping into his dirty brown tunic, you plunged your sword into his chest. Troll skin was tough, and the act took more force than you were used to. You grunted as you yanked the sword out with a sickening wet sound, and the troll crumpled to the ground moments later.

You whirled to see how the other males were faring. The pass was narrow, but already littered with bodies. The assailants were all lesser Fae of varying types, from trolls to sprites, and was that a kelpie?

Smoky plumes of shadows wrangled enemies to the ground, courtesy of Ghost. Kyle was wielding his fire, twin swords ablaze. Soap was grinning while he wrapped a fist around a fishlike male who had wide, entirely black eyes. Those eyes bugged as Soap cut off his airways, the shifter not even bothering to draw the great sword strapped to his back.

These males of yours were warriors though, and already the skirmish was ending. Kyle used his swords to decapitate one of the men, and as you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, a hand fisted into your hair.

Oh hell no.

The attacker yanked back, nearly bringing you to your knees. You yelped, grabbing your hair down lower so the male couldn't pull anything out. You needed to twist, to shift your center of gravity and get him on his ass like Soap had taught you. You dropped your weight, wincing at the tug on your scalp as you twisted, getting your legs entangled to shake the man off. You would have been successful too, but bands of inky shadow curled around the male, pulling him back.

You gasped at the force used to pull the male away from you, wide-eyed as you saw Ghost stalk to the male, who he now had dangling in the air.

Your attacker was a spindly male with scraggly, mousy hair that looked like it needed a good wash. His joints were knobby, skin rough and textured like some sort of lizard. His legs kicked in the air, but it was no use. Ghost had him, and though he was calm as he walked towards the trapped male, his eyes were molten liquid, like two pools of steel. A quick glance around told you this was the only survivor.

"Why did you attack us?" Ghost barked out, entirely business.

"We were looking for gold!" came the male's reply, voice crackly and rough. Your Alextren was far better than you thought.

"Liar," Ghost hissed, and the shadows tightened.

"Mercy, lord!" the male begged, milky eyes wide as he squirmed.

Kyle stalked forward now. He said something you didn't fully catch, but you could guess he was trying to encourage the truth.

The lesser Fae gurgled out a response. "Master made us!"

"Who is your master?" Ghost's voice was silky now, and you shuddered.

The male barked out a name, then begged to be let go. Your males all shared a look before Ghost shook his head. "No can do. You laid a hand on someone very precious. I think you need to learn you should not touch things that do not belong to you."

Precious? Ghost thought you were precious? You took it back; your Alextren was actually shit if you were hearing words like that from the wraith.

"So unfortunately, you are going to be losing that hand." Ghost's voice was as soft as ever. You glanced over at him, at Soap just beyond. The hyena shifter still had that mad grin on his face, and you wondered for the first time if these males really did have a penchant for violence after all.

"Make him scream," Soap nearly growled.

Kyle said nothing, though he stood next to you. Ghost drew a weapon, stalking forward. "The old fashioned way, then." He grabbed the male's hand and brought the blade down in a single arc. You blinked, and Ghost was holding the dismembered hand, dripping with blood, up to the male's face.

The lesser Fae screamed, and you swallowed. You didn't like violence like this. Really, you didn't. But the thought of Ghost doing it for you, because another male laid a hand on you...Gods, you were fucked up. You prayed none of them would pick up on the buzz of arousal that was threatening to warm your belly.

Ghost dropped the hand, and it fell with a muffled thud. Immediately the snow around the hand stained a sickly shade of red. You blew out a breath. "Just kill him already if that's what you want to do."

The wraith inclined his head. "As you wish." The bands of smoke tightened and tightened. You heard the cracking of the male's ribs, arms, hips. His eyes bulged and you were positive they were about to pop out until he suddenly fell to the forest floor in a heap. You crinkled your nose.

There was a moment of silence before Kyle sighed. "Do you believe him?" he asked Ghost.

Ghost stepped over the corpse. "Yes and no. I believe his master is who he said he is. The worry is who paid the master to send them out here."

Soap was already inspecting the other bodies, checking their pockets and belts. "Aye, these don' look like any robbers I've seen before."

You studied the scene, slowly nodding. "They were too trained to just be robbers. Who did he say was their master?"

"A Fae male that used to act as a sort of feudal lord over town just over the next mountain to the west." Kyle toed the body of the troll you killed. "Until His Majesty put a stop to it a few years back, of course. The male is a monster. He used to steal human children and eat them."

"Eat them?" Your eyes widened. "I didn't realize that kind of thing actually happened. Why didn't John just kill him?"

"Ha!" Soap pointed a finger at you. "That was exactly what I said, lass! Even offered to do it with me own hands!"

Kyle grimaced. "Yes, well, there was another pressing matter His Majesty had to attend to. By the time he ventured back to that town, the male fled. He does have a death warrant, and if his cronies are this close..." He glanced towards Ghost.

"We will look into it after we return home," came the wraith's reply. "I will send word to His Majesty. We need to keep moving before the blood attracts all sorts of nasty beasts."

If Ghost was calling something else nasty, you were more than inclined to believe him. You refused the carriage, the confines a bit too much for your post-battle strung up state of mind. The males seemed to understand, and no one insisted you go back in when you swung yourself onto Quick Silver's saddle.

Kyle and Soap took the lead, with you and Ghost trailing behind, your carriage just ahead, still being pulled by two snow-white horses, the red blankets reminding you of the blood soaked snow from your skirmish. You held back your wince, but your hands tightened on your reins.

Ghost's head turned ever so slightly towards you. "You handled yourself well."

You blinked. A compliment? "Did one of them hit you over the head back there?"

Ghost let out a huff of air, and it was the closest to expressing amusement you had ever seen from him. "No."

The praise was nice and all, but... "I'm a soldier, Ghost," you reminded with a sigh. "I don't understand why you think I should be some damsel in distress, but I've been on battlefields before. I've killed before. I also would have gotten out of that grip on my hair. I could have cut his arm off, but I wanted to put my sessions with Soap to use." You also knew the other males would not have let anything happen to you, as proven by Ghost pulling him away from you.

There was a moment of silence. "I know," he said. "Perhaps I should have allowed you to dispatch him yourself, but he touched you, and that was unforgivable." You looked at Ghost, noticing the way he kept his gaze forward. His jaw was set, body tense. The top of his face was exposed, his eyes tempered steel.

The wraith's words made your stomach do weird things, and you didn't like it. "And why was it unforgivable?"

Ghost still refused to look at you. "Because you are Queen, Your Majesty. It is the law."

Your stomach immediately settled. "Oh." You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting off disappointment. Why were you disappointed? What were you expecting him to say?

Ghost glanced at you once, briefly. He shifted his grip on his reins. Not wanting to be near him any longer, you gave a half smile. "I'll go switch with Soap. I want to talk to Kyle."

The male didn't reply, but you didn't wait for one as you moved ahead, relaying your wish to the hyena shifter, who merely nodded, falling back. Kyle gave you a grin, and the strange feeling in your chest finally settled. "You doing alright, love?"

"Yeah." You pushed your hair from your face, then tugged up the scarf you had retrieved from the carriage earlier. It muffled your voice a bit as you spoke, "Just haven't been in a fight like that in a while. Why do you think they attacked us? They didn't seem like robbers."

The panther shifter's smile fell. "There are a few possibilities, I'm afraid. They could very well be robbers. Bield Pass, this path we are taking, is really the only option for travelling this area this time of year. Another option is that news of your tour to the highlands somehow made its way into the wrong hands."

"You think someone might have tried to assassinate me?"

Kyle tilted his head thoughtfully. "It is difficult to say. If that was their goal, they did not do a very good job. The men were trained, yes, but against us it did not matter. Their goal may have been to kidnap you, use you as leverage. Or perhaps they wanted information."

"Information?" you repeated, brows pinching. "We killed them all, though. No one's alive to give any information."

Kyle still looked apprehensive. "Sometimes, love, you can learn more about your enemy from the way they fight and kill."

That, you knew, was true. After a battle, observing the bodies and land was a good way to figure out your enemy's tactics. You could learn about their weapons, mindset, formations, and strategy. "So what do you think they'd learn?"

Kyle gave you another small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was beautiful all the same. "That we will not tolerate any threat to our Queen."

Chapter Text

When all was said and done, the trip from the castle to the highlands took over a week of nonstop travel. These mountains made Alextre as big as it was, with no other kingdoms daring to attempt taking it from them. Despite the rich iron and coal deposits, the winters were deadly, the forests full of wild beasts, and the highlanders that inhabited the area were known to be unfriendly.

The altitude change had given you headaches these past few days, but the land had finally evened out. The dense forests gave way to wide landscapes that were nearly entirely bare, though still covered in snow.

Soap had grinned as he brought his horse to a large rock that was shaped oddly. He began brushing the snow away, revealing an intricately carved battle. Figures on reared horses raised swords, promising death to the cowering enemies in the center of the carving, their mouths and eyes wide with terror. The carving was very obviously weather-worn, but the artist had done a good job depicting the scene, allowing it to be readable even now. Surrounding the scene were symbols similar to the ones found on the victims' bodies. The glyphs.

"Aye, it's good to be home," the male declared, kissing the rock before he hopped back on his horse. "Come on now, only a bit further!"

Kyle gave you a look. "He says that, but the village is still half a day's ride away."

"Shorter than the rest of this bloody trip!" Soap shot back, and you were inclined to agree.

You sighed, sniffling a moment later and pulling your cloak's hood tighter around your face. "Then we better hurry up."

"That's the spirit, lass!" the hyena shifter called from where he was already charging forward. You waited for Ghost to snap at him to get back in formation, but you supposed with a landscape this open, it would be easy to spot threats. Unless people were hiding under the hulking rocks that jutted out of the earth everywhere you looked.

Everyone decided to skip lunch in favor of time, and Soap promised there would be a large feast waiting for you all once you arrived. You hoped that was true, because your stomach was grumbling. Admittedly, you had also skipped breakfast after another nasty nightmare of purple-tinted hands reaching for you. It killed your appetite entirely, and not even the apple Kyle offered could tempt you. Your mate had shot you a worried frown, but you only smiled sheepishly.

The winter sky grew dark early though, and by the time torches came into view the sky only held the faintest bit of gray light. You suddenly felt nervous, taking measured breaths as you approached the edge of the village.

Soap was ecstatic, already greeting the many figures waiting to greet your party. "It will be fine," Kyle assured you gently. "We've been practicing Alextren nonstop. Your accent is nearly perfect."

You had been practicing with Kyle every day, but after the run-in with the group of "robbers" you instead demanded everyone speak to you only in Alextren. It helped quite a bit. Even if you didn't understand entire sentences, you picked up on the general gist. Speaking your own mind was different, but it would take a while before you were fluent enough to express your thoughts and feelings eloquently. For now, basics would do fine.

Finally the edge of the village came into view, and you were greeted by a wall of Fae men. They wore their hair in varying lengths, but each of them had swaths of fabric wrapped around their waists in varying colors, though the patterns were similar. Instead of pants they had on knee-high stockings, and you marveled at how they didn't get cold.

"It is ceremonial today," a voice informed you. You glanced over, shocked to see Ghost. "The clothes. The elders tend to wear the kilts all the time, but the younger males will wear pants when the occasion calls for it. Do not let it fool you; they can fight just as well, perhaps better, in their traditional options."

Soap turned then, a big grin on his face as he reached for your hand. You dismounted your horse, then hesitantly approached the shifter, taking his hand. Soap gave you a wink. "No worries lass, they won' bite ya." He brought you in front of the line of males. "Lads, I present to you yer Queen, Lunelle Travan."

The males gave you a sweeping glance, taking in your travel clothes, your sword, and the hold of your chin. Then they bowed, hands fisted over their hearts. They said something to you, and you blinked, glancing at Soap. He gave an apologetic smile. "Told ya the Alextren is different, lass. Lads, in simple terms for Her Majesty!"

One male with short, dark hair and icy eyes lifted his head just a touch to grin at you. "May your glory reign eternal," he translated.

"Thank you," you breathed. Shit, you should have asked John for pointers on this. You knew how to be a soldier, a commander, but not a queen.

Luckily Soap took care of it. He said something else that you couldn't understand, but moments later you were being lead into the village.

Despite the chill, people were out and about. Torches lined simple streets, and houses of stone dotted the landscape. Your horses and belongings had already been whisked away, and you traveled on foot. The village was somehow incredibly inviting despite the chill, and you smiled as you spotted children running about.

"You're from Theodric?" a voice inquired in Common, and you saw the same blue-eyed male from earlier.

You blinked. "Um...yes. I am."

"Ah. How do the males in Alextre compare to your homeland?" His eyes held a mischievous glint. Opening your mouth, you searched for a response.

"Keegan!" Soap snapped. "Where's your sorry excuse for a da' at, lad?"

The male, Keegan, rolled his pretty eyes before he shot you an equally pretty smile. "Family business. I'll see you later, Your Majesty." He took your hand before you could react, brushing his lips over your knuckles, though they were covered by your gloves. You stared, bewildered as the male sauntered off.

You blinked, looking over at Kyle, who had been watching the interaction. He had a slight smile on his lips. "I do not understand why you are shocked that males here want to flirt with you too, princess." At least he wasn't threatening Keegan. Konig would have.

"I don't think he was flirting," you protested, though you had a feeling he was. You glanced over to see Ghost's reaction, but the wraith was staring after Keegan's retreating form, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Ghost?" He ignored you. Great.

Deciding that you should also ignore Ghost, you slipped your hand around Kyle's elbow. "I don't suppose telling him I have three mates would deter him?"

"I think it would only give him hope," Kyle chuckled good-naturedly. "But if his actions bother you, I could talk to him."

"No, he seems harmless," you decided, shaking your head. "Don't want my first impression making me look like a stick in the mud."

"If he cannot handle boundaries, he should not be allowed near you," Ghost ground out, making you jump at the sound of his voice. Ghost stalked ahead though, leaving you and Kyle to stare at him with matching expressions of confusion.

-   -   -

Luckily, Soap had been correct about the feast waiting for you.

The highlands were made up of multiple small villages, and Soap explained to you that people lived with their clans, so generally within families. Other bloodlines also made up the clan, but the villages each operated independently of one another, and you learned some clans even had blood feuds. The highlands were their own society, living by their own rules. This clan, Soap's, was ran by a matriarch, who was also apparently some distant aunt of Soap's. He tried to explain the family tree, but there were so many names you grew dizzy.

All in all, you understood that though you were Queen, it did not mean you held the power here. You were respected, yes, and the clans still relied on the crown for trade and taxes, but the clans were mostly self-governing. The feuds between clans were centuries old, and not even John would have the power to stop them without wiping out entire bloodlines.

You would all be staying in the matriarch's home, a very large estate made of stone. The space was inviting, though you could feel the age of the halls as you wandered them, staring at the faded tapestries adorning the walls. It was an art style you had never seen before, and each work had those same glyphs scrawled at the bottom, sometimes accompanied by Old Alextren. You supposed those were a bit newer than the pieces only containing glyphs. You couldn't even wrap your mind around how old this place must be. Magic must have been the only thing holding the stone together and protecting it from erosion, though the worn corners told you even magic couldn't fight nature forever.

You were given a room in the same wing as Soap and Ghost, with Kyle sharing yours. You needed his easy comfort in this unfamiliar environment.

The room was simple, a bed taking up the center of the room and decorated in wool blankets. Two wood tables sat at either side of the bed, with one of your chests of clothes sitting at the foot. A fire crackled in the corner, and you spotted a single tapestry in this room. It did not appear as ancient as the others you saw, with a rather cute sheep set against an olive background.

Kyle escorted you to the dining hall, which was already jam-packed with Fae. There were doors on the far side that opened into the courtyard, where a giant fire stretched into the night sky. More Fae were spilling out, and you realized with a start that the entire village had likely been invited.

The feast had not even started yet, but already people had mugs of ale, laughing and talking loudly. It felt warm, and lively, and a smile found its way to your lips. No one even turned when you entered the room, and it was refreshing. It reminded you of nights after a battle won, where the soldiers drank deep and laughed as they told stories about the day's fallen to honor them.

Eventually Soap found you though, the tops of his cheeks already pink. "C'mon lass, time to meet tha matriarch."

Anxiety knotted in your stomach, but you took Soap's arm and allowed him to lead you through the throng of bodies, outside, to the fire. A few figures sat around the fire, all of them sporting silvery hair and deep lines in their faces. The Fae did age, though at an incredibly slow rate. Looking at these Fae, at the deep lines fanning from their eyes, you had no idea how old they could possibly be. Most Fae went to the Eternal on their own will before they reached this point.

Soap called out to one of the figures, and a female turned her head. Her features were severe, and her eyes the same ocean-blue as Soap's, though they appeared a bit cloudy, glazed over with age. But she smiled, reaching for the hyena shifter and reaching for his face as they pressed their foreheads together. Then Soap straightened, saying something to her before beckoning you forward.

Shit. Were you supposed to bow? Courtesy? Do that forehead thing? You should show respect somehow.

Unsure, you dipped your upper half as you did when you were a soldier, but the matriarch lifted a hand to stop you, shaking her head. She said something, and Soap grinned. "She says Queens bow to one one, Yer Majesty."

You gave a sheepish smile. Knowing she could at least understand standard Alextren, you introduced yourself. "My name is Lunelle Travan. Thank you for welcoming myself and my cadre. The highlands are..." You paused, struggling for the word. "Incredible," you finished.

You waited for Soap to translate her reply. "She says there will be time to talk tomorro'. Go an' enjoy the feast, lass."

You smiled, feeling like you should still dip your head or something as you said goodbye, though you refrained. There was something about the matriarch's gaze that unnerved you, like she could see your very soul.

The feast began after everyone made a toast to you, and the enthusiasm with which everyone called "May your glory reign eternal!" made both your ears and heart warm. Maybe that was just the ale, though.

Kyle stuck by your side the entire time, sensing you needed his grounding presence. He was correct. You had been among soldiers your entire life, but even the army had limits. Here, those didn't exist, and suddenly everything about Soap made a lot of sense.

You witnessed two males throw punches at each other, only to laugh and embrace each other afterwards. In a corner, a female sat atop a male, grinding on his lap with her skirts hoisted around her waist.

Two females were locked in a passionate kiss just to the left of you, and Kyle chuckled as he steered you away. Soap was in his element, talking to everyone with a hand clasped on their shoulder. Ghost was, predictably, nowhere to be found.

But eventually everything became far too much, and Kyle was quick to take your hand and lead you back to your shared room. The one floor difference and multiple heavy wooden doors paired with the stone walls did a good job at drowning out most of the revelry, but you took your mate's hand and quickly erected a silencing charm around the room, blocking sounds both in and out.

The sudden quiet nearly made your ears ring, and you groaned as you collapsed onto the bed. "The highlanders know how to enjoy themselves."

Kyle chuckled as he sat down next to you, reaching out to brush your hair from your face. "You left at a good time. It was only a matter of time until one of them pulled you out to dance around the fire. They go until they get sick or collapse."

You believed it. You pushed you the heels of your palms into your eyes. "I feel gross." You hadn't stayed at an inn for four days, which meant you also hadn't bathed in four days.

"On it." Kyle was up, opening the door that lead to a small private bathroom. "The tub's already filled. Must have been enchanted."

"Gods, I love magic." You stood, tugging your boots off and pulling at the ties and buttons that held your traveling ensemble together. You were down to your underclothes, the only thing separating your naked flesh and air a thin layer of cotton before you paused, looking at Kyle who was busying himself unpacking one of his bags.

You had kissed Kyle, had cuddled with him, but he had not seen you naked. Suddenly you felt shy, but the remaining ale buzzing in your veins made you feel brave. "Kyle?"

"Yes, love?" He didn't look at you.

"That tub is pretty big..." You caught your lower lip between your teeth, watching as understanding dawned on your mate. His hands froze, shoulders stiffening. "We could go together? I could use help washing my hair."

That was all it took for Kyle. Kyle's love language was very clearly acts of service, and if he believed he could help you in some way, he would. He stood, pulling his shirt off, then the under layer. His toned torso was bare to you, skin deliciously gleaming in the firelight. He was all warmth, all fire. The panther shifter shot you one of his winning smiles. "If you are sure about this, princess?"

"I'm sure," you responded, forcing your eyes away from the toned dips of his stomach, especially from that prominent V-line where you saw a vein standing out against his dark skin.

Kyle gestured for you to go first, and you took a deep breath before you peeled off your final layer, walking ahead into the bathroom. You felt Kyle's gaze on your ass as you walked in, sinking into the lovely warm water. You groaned as your travel-weary bones relaxed.

Your mate followed you in a moment after, shutting the door behind him and shucking off his trousers. Your heart picked up as you took in his cock, already standing at attention. He gave you a sheepish smile. Knowing that your naked form was more than enough to get him hard filled you with satisfaction as you sat up. "Come here."

He obliged you, sinking down into the water and settling behind you. Your back was pressed to his warm torso, his long legs caging yours between them. His length was pressed to your back, and you bit your lip. Kyle, unsurprisingly, had a beautiful cock. He was long, though not quite as thick as Konig or John. Your hand itched to reach back and wrap around him, but for now you resisted.

"Your hair is quite the mess," Kyle chuckled as his long fingers began working through the knots. He poured water over your head with the small bucket provided, lathering pine-scented soap into your hair, then following it up with something richer, the slip allowing the knots to come free much easier.

He rinsed that from your hair too, lathering a cloth with more soap, though now you felt him hesitate. "Kyle, you can touch me," you assured, wrapping your fingers around one of his wrists and guiding his hand to your shoulder, coaxing his hand lower, over the swell of your breasts. His breath caught, and you felt his cock twitch against you as he slowly circled one breast, then the other. Your nipples hardened immediately despite the warm water, and your head lolled back against Kyle's broad shoulder.

The shifter grew bolder, his free hand wrapping around your waist and settling on your stomach while he dragged the cloth over every inch of your body. He got between your thighs, and your legs fell open for him. "Just your fingers," you said softly. "The cloth can be...rough."

Kyle's breath expelled in a sharp huff against the back of your neck. He nuzzled against you, full lips sliding over your shoulder, lips pressing to the mating mark John left, then to the one from Konig on the curve of your neck. The gesture made your heart squeeze, knowing that he was treating those marks just as preciously as the rest of you. You shuddered as his lips brushed over the shell of your hear, then let out a soft noise when his fingers slipped through your folds.

"You are so soft, love," he rasped, fingers exploring your folds before they found your clit. Your body jerked when his fingers touched the bundle of nerves, and he slowly circled two fingers there. Your eyes fluttered, one of your hands reaching back to grip the back of Kyle's neck while the other wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand right where you wanted it.

Twisting your head, your lips found your mate's as his fingers made tight circles against you, making your back arch, noises spilling into Kyle's mouth. He returned your moans with soft ones of his own, and when Kyle pulled back to watch your expression, his eyes were swirling with amber and gold. When two of his long fingers slipped inside of you, a loud mewl escaped your lips. Kyle smiled, curling his fingers in as he plunged them in and out.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, voice full of awe. "Look at how pretty you are, love, how your body responds to me." His free hand took your chin, gently guiding your gaze down to your body. Your nipples were peaked, back arched. Your hips were twitching, rolling against Kyle's hand. It was erotic enough to make red bloom across your cheeks again, and Kyle groaned, lips brushing over the top of your cheekbone. "So lovely."

His fingers curled again, and you let out another breathy moan, eyes rolling back. Kyle groaned in satisfaction. "Did I find it, my love? Did that feel nice? Let me hear more of you, mm? Please." He repeated his action, and you couldn't have held back your moans even if you wanted to.

Kyle's fiery gaze kept trailing from your face down to your body, his full lips slightly parted. "Are you going to cum, love? Come on. Cum for me. Let go. That's it, princess. Cum on my fingers for me, mm? Please? Please, please, please."

Something about Kyle's soft, deep voice begging you to cum, to show him what you looked like made you feel extra light-headed and fuzzy, like you were floating. His voice filled your head, his pleas for you to cum gathering until your pleasure spiked sharply. You cried out loudly, nails digging into Kyle's skin as you spasmed on his hand, hips rocking to get every last stroke of pleasure from him.

When you calmed down and found your mate's eyes, he was staring at you like you were the greatest treasure he had ever seen. His cock twitched against you again, and you gave him a sleepy, sated smile as you pressed your lips to his. Kyle was quick to return the gesture, groaning as you licked into his mouth, sucking on his tongue.

You both rose from the tub, Kyle drying you off roughly with a towel. It was alright; with Kyle, you knew you would never be cold. The shifter's eyes were wide, and you could see the need to please written all over his expression.

You had been with your other two mates enough that you had a good idea of what to do, so you decided you would try to take charge tonight. "Lay down for me," you requested, and Kyle was quick to obey. The rush of power you got from seeing how eager he was to please you lit a fire inside you, and you suddenly understood why John was so bossy, if this was what he got from it.

You smiled at the male, settling between his legs and running your hands up his powerful thighs. His stomach clenched, his pretty eyes never once leaving yours. You bypassed his straining cock, your hands slipping up the ridges of his stomach and chest muscles before you planted a single kiss on his waiting lips.

Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, watching as Kyle pressed his lips together, brow pinching. You dragged your hand up slowly, glancing down to see a pearl of precum gather at the tip. Swirling your thumb over the head to spread the moisture, you rubbed at the underside of the head, the panther hissing out in response.

"You are the most beautiful male I have ever seen," you murmured to him, kissing along his sharp jaw. Kyle's breathing hitched, and you smiled as you saw what the praise did to him. You stroked him for a few moments, enjoying the way Kyle twitched under you.

Eventually you decided to give him more, your mouth wrapping around the weeping head of his cock. Kyle loosed a groan, one of his hands moving to rest on your head. His eyes squeezed shut, and you pulled off with a pop. "Kyle, eyes on me," you commanded softly.

He was quick to obey, eyes flying open and finding yours. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, before your mouth was wrapped around the velvety heat of him again. You worked your mouth on him for a while, though taking his entire length was proving difficult. You had a feeling you'd only be able to if he forced your head down, and Kyle was in no mood to take control right now. He wasn't complaining though, soft grunts escaping his parted lips as he watched you suck him off.

"Princess," he managed out, "princess, please. I might cum in your mouth soon. You look so beautiful like this." His thumb swept over your cheek, then over your lips where they were wrapped around him. He grunted again. "Fuck. Please."

Obliging him, you slowly pulled off of him, licking your lips. You crawled over him, settling your hips over his. You placed one of your hands on his chest while the other gripped his cock, lining him up with your entrance. "Say please," you commanded, the feeling of control making you feel high.

"Please, love," your mate obeyed immediately, his hands reaching for your face. "I'll be good, I promise."

Gods, this male might be the death of you. You turned your head to kiss his palm, lowering your hips until he was fully sheathed inside you. You sighed out, the feeling of being full calming the swirling of your thoughts. Kyle's hips twitched ever so slightly, and from his pinched expression you could tell he was doing everything in his power not to thrust up into you.

Letting out a soft chuckle, you obliged him and lifted your hips up before settling back down again. That earned a moan from both of you, and soon you set the pace, bouncing up and down Kyle's hard cock. He gave you his hands for balance, and you continued your actions until your thighs burned so badly you couldn't continue anymore. But you felt that fire of release building in you, so you kept going until it crested, leaving you trembling on top of the shifter as he whined every time your walls fluttered around him. You lowered your legs and grinded on him for a few moments, kissing Kyle softly while his hands massaged your breasts.

"Relax, love," Kyle murmured, hands finding your hips to gently lower you onto the bed. The powerful male leaned over you, guiding his length back inside of you. His eyes rolled back, and when he looked at you again they were honey.

Kyle's movements were even and deep, each thrust of his hips pushing the head of his cock against the sweet spot inside of you. His kisses remained sweet and passionate, his husky voice murmuring to you about how beautiful you were, how lovely you looked on his cock.

"Good boy," you praised the shifter, reaching a hand back to grab his ass, encouraging him to move faster. He obeyed, pupils dilating at the praise. Oh, he liked that. You smiled, your other hand stroking his cheek, his jaw. You moved your hand over his lips, and they parted to take one of your fingers, his tongue swirling over your digit. "You're such a good boy, Kyle," you said again, and the male groaned, hips stuttering ever so slightly.

He removed your hand from his mouth, pressing your palm to the side of his face. "Lunelle, love, please. I might--I think I will--"

"Shh," you murmured, shaking your head. "It's okay. You can cum."

He did a few moments later, collapsing on top of you while he pushed his hips deep inside of you. He stilled, length twitching inside of you as he spilled his seed inside. His full lips peppered soft kisses against whatever skin he could reach, and eventually he pulled out.

You were ready to reach for him, to let him wrap you in his arms, but he slid between your legs. You blinked, brain not quite fully processing what was happening until his tongue slid up your swollen folds, circling your sensitive clit.

You gasped, hands finding his short curls. "Kyle!"

His eyes were still golden. "I want to see you cum for me one more time, love. Please? I know you can." He licked another stripe up you, and you no longer protested as you threw your head back, enjoying the soft warmth of Kyle's mouth on you. He pushed two fingers into you to keep his cum inside, working them in and out while he sucked and nipped gently at your swollen bud.

Your breathing became erratic, and Kyle hummed. "That's it, love. See? I knew you could. Cum on my tongue. Please, love. Pretty please." He worked at you with more enthusiasm, one of his hands moving up to press against your lower stomach while the hand inside of you pushed against your sweet spot. A shout was the only warning you could give before the most powerful orgasm you ever experienced wracked your body with pleasure.

You felt release down there, and your face heated as you bolted upright. Kyle's eyes were hazy, half focused. His  mouth and chin were wet, as was his neck, and the bed beneath you. Your mouth popped open. "Did I just...?"

"Yes." Kyle licked his lips, a wide smile spreading over his lips. "You squirted for me, princess. Fuck." He dove back in to lick up more of your release, and your body spasmed at the overstimulation. You pushed at Kyle's shoulders with a whine, and he eventually pulled back with a chuckle.

"I've...I've never done that before," you admitted in wonder. "I didn't know I could."

"Really?" Kyle's brows shot up. He sat back on his heels, and the sight of his dark skin flushed, his lips swollen and wet with you, eyes half-lidded...Gods, Kyle was more beautiful than any statue you had ever seen. "Did you enjoy it. love?"

"Yes." As if that was a question. You laid back, feeling exhausted. Kyle left for a moment before returning with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your body down, paying extra attention to between your legs.

He got back up to dispose of the cloth, but suddenly stopped in front of a window. "Lunelle?"

It was an effort to open your eyes. "Hm?"

"Was there a tree outside our room before?"

A tree? You hadn't seen a tree since you entered the highlands late last night. You frowned, forcing yourself to join Kyle by the window. "No, not that I can--"

You cut yourself off. Outside the window was an incredibly tall redwood. It stretched into the sky, looking incredibly out of place among the highland landscape. You peered down, and though your view was partially obstructed, you could see growth at the base of the tree, with bright orange fire lilies blooming.

"Did I...?"

Kyle's eyes were chocolate again, but they were full of pride. "You absolutely did, princess."

Chapter Text

By breakfast, the estate had completely emptied out. From what Kyle said, the last of the highlanders left not too long after sunrise.

Now, with the dining hall empty and quiet, it felt a touch lonely. Cold. You, Kyle, and Ghost were the only ones at the table for breakfast. One of the house servants told you that other members of the household were busy, or still asleep.

Soap came in about thirty minutes into your meal, wincing at the daylight filtering in through the large windows. He sat next to Ghost and grabbed an entire loaf of bread, breaking off a piece and shoving it into his mouth.

"Enjoy yourself last night?" Kyle teased the male, passing you a jar of clotted cream.

Soap swallowed the bread down with a gulp of tea. "I should be askin' you an' the lass that." He grinned. "Never seen a redwood in these parts. 'Specially not that close to yer bedroom."

Your cheeks heated, and you kept your gaze down, concentrating on spreading the jam and clotted cream onto one of your scones.

"Do not tease her, it was an accident," Kyle admonished.

Soap cackled again, shaking his head. "Must 'ave been enjoying herself to make a whole damn tree. What say you, Ghost?" The shifter nudged the wraith with an elbow.

Ghost gave Soap a firm glare, but refused to answer. "Spoil sport," Soap said around a mouthful of food.

The wraith placed his palms flat on the table, standing up in one fluid motion. Soap ignored him, but you and Kyle watched as Soap moved directly behind the hyena shifter, lifting his hands and clapping once, sharply, right next to Soap's ear. Even you winced at the sound, but hungover Soap cried out, slamming his hands over his ears before standing and whirling around to face Ghost. "Alrigh', tha' is grounds for a fight, ya shadowy bastard!"

Soap reached for Ghost, but the male just cocked his head, and a moment later he was nothing more than darkness. Shadowy bastard indeed. You couldn't hold back your laughter anymore, letting out a soft chuckle. Kyle was grinning too, and Soap turned back towards the two of you. "Haud yer wheest, the two of ye."

You blinked at Kyle. "What did he say?"

Your mate shrugged. "Being back in his home town is only detrimental to our ability to communicate with him, I fear."

The door opened again, and in walked Keegan, who didn't seem even the slightest bit hungover. He beamed as soon as he saw you, sweeping into a bow. "Your Majesty." He glanced at Soap. "Yer lookin' a bit peely wally, cousin."

You understood the words coming out of his mouth but simultaneously had no clue what he was saying. Keegan turned back to you, but Soap was muttering something that sounded like "bampot", whatever that meant. The male smiled at you. "The matriarch has requested you join her for afternoon tea. Until then, I would be happy to escort you on a walk as soon as you've had your breakfast."

Holding back the urge to look at your mate--you were Queen after all, you could make your own decisions--you nodded. "Sure. That sounds lovely, Keegan. I'll meet you outside in an hour or so?"

He flashed a brilliant smile. "Of course." Giving you another bow, he exited the dining hall.

You finished breakfast, pressing a brief kiss to Soap's cheek on your way out. "Good luck with the hangover."

The shifter waved a hand. "You be careful with Keegan, aye? Lad is graw, but but likely just wants to try to sleep with a queen."

"Graw?" you repeated before shaking your head. Gods, Soap really was harder to communicate with. You guessed it was the local dialect slipping through. "I'll be fine. I'm very strongly spoken for."

Soap didn't look convinced that you'd be able to resist Keegan's charms, but you felt confident enough. You even told Kyle you didn't need a babysitter. Soap warned you against romantic advances, but never said anything about him being dangerous. Either there was no threat, or Soap trusted you to handle yourself and would laugh his ass off if you got the Fae male on his ass.

You changed into a simple, warm top, layered with a vest and fitted jacket that nipped in at the waist. You had on thick leggings, layering a wool walking skirt over it. Warm, but formal enough that you wouldn't risk offending the matriarch when you met her for tea later. You dug out your walking boots out of the trunk, deciding your muddy travel boots likely wouldn't be appropriate.

By the time you made it outside, Keegan was leaning against the stone entry, smoking a pipe full of something sweet-smelling. You had studied up on Alextre's plant life, and could only guess that it was valespia; a leafy plant whose leaves could be harvested and used in a variety of ways. There were a couple of different types of valespia, some with pain-killing properties, others that only induced relaxation. It was commonly smoked casually, as this male was currently doing. It was illegal in Theodric.

You blinked at him, and Keegan shot you a lazy grin, the smoke curling out of his mouth in slow tendrils. He licked his lips, pulling the piece from his mouth and holding it out. "Want some?"

Sniffing, you tried to figure out which strand of valespia this was, if it was only for relaxation, or if it was the kind that was also known to make you feel a bit like you were drunk. You had only read about it though, so you couldn't risk it. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." He took another long drag, this time blowing the smoke out in rings. The rings shifted, changing into a rose. You blinked, wondering how managed to manipulate the shape. "I'm good with my mouth," he stated, as if reading your thoughts.

You read the hidden intention behind his comment though, and frowned. "You realize I have three mates, Keegan."

He shrugged one shoulder, tamping at the end of the pipe to extinguish any remaining burning matter. "Which means your mates are all very open and used to sharing. Doesn't seem like an issue to me, hen."

"Hen?"

Keegan chuckled. "Never you worry your pretty little head, Your Majesty. Come, let me show you around, tell you about Clan MacTavish."

Luckily, during the tour Keegan remained mostly a gentleman. You had your hand on his elbow, and he never attempted to touch you anywhere else, or guide you into questionable nefarious businesses. The village was simple, mostly made up of houses. Sheep usually roamed the highlands in the MacTavish territory, but during the winter the beasts generally stayed close to where they could be fed dry hay and grain while the snow covered the hilltops.

People generally grew their own produce, sharing among family and trading with other nearby clans. Clothes were made from wool provided by the sheep, and during the warmer months they shipped out wool and clothing in exchange for other goods from towns in the mountains that you could see in the distance.

"Any questions?" Keegan asked after giving you a brief backstory on the clan. There were old legends about all the highland clans descending from one of five siblings, though bloodlines had intermixed so much that it hardly mattered anymore. Many of the highland Fae could shift, though to your surprise other gifts were rare. A few had command of the wind, while others had uncanny abilities to read emotions and manipulate them. That honestly seemed a bit more frightening than going against any elemental wielder.

"Do you have any gifts?" you asked.

Keegan's blue eyes flashed with amusement. "How do you think I did my little smoke ring trick? Well, you can make rings without any magic, but anything beyond that is impossible."

"You have wind abilities," you guessed, and the male's smile widened.

"I do. Though I would describe it as more of an air affinity than wind. Any final questions? It's nearly tea time."

You did, though you weren't sure it was appropriate to ask. "Does...does clan MacTavish have any feuds with neighboring clans?"

Keegan let out a whoop of laughter. "Aye, Majesty. There's not a clan without a feud or ten to their name. Folks around here love getting their knuckles bloody."

You made a face. "I noticed. Are the feuds...bad?"

He lifted a shoulder. "No one can really say. One of them apparently originated after a female ran away from her family to marry into clan MacTavish. Another was a land dispute. But who can say? The feuds never die, not completely. We can usually be civil enough for trade, but the moment someone brings it up..." He rolled his eyes. "Personally, I think they're just used as an excuse to keep fighting. Not much else to do around these parts."

It was really no wonder Soap ended up the way he did. You felt like you understood him better, and that made you smile. You and Keegan arrived back at the estate, the male tossing you a wink. "This is where I leave you. You'll be shown to the tea room. If you need me, open up a window and yell for me. Better yet, moan--I'll come twice as fast." Keegan took your hand, kissing your knuckles that were bare today. He bowed, leaving as you headed inside.

His flirting was definitely harmless, though a touch refreshing. He was even more brazen than Soap. Maybe it was a highlander trait. These males seemed to do everything in excess--drink, fight, flirt.

Inside, a spindly tree sprite took your cloak, then lead you to a small, circular stone room. A woven rug made of faded greens and yellows decorated the center of the space, with a large wooden table sitting atop it. Multiple seats surrounded the table, a sort of hodge-podge. There was a loveseat upholstered in red velvet, faded to a slight pink in some spots. The back was intricately carved, reminding you of the doors in the castle. Perhaps they had been work of the highlands. There were multiple single chairs, also sporting the same faded red velvet. Ghost and Soap sat in the single chairs, with Kyle seated on one end of the loveseat.

Quickly taking your seat after a brief greeting, you found yourself across the table from the matriarch. Two Fae stood against the wall behind her, on either side of a fireplace. Her cloudy gaze was shrewd as ever as she nodded to you in greeting.

"Thank you for having me," you said quietly, smoothing your skirt underneath you.

She lifted a hand, and a large pot of tea was brought in along with a small pitcher of milk and a jar of sugar. The dishes were fine, but a bit dated. You supposed the highlanders used what they had until no longer could, which was a stark contrast to the excess of Theodric households. If you didn't have the newest or most fashionable design, you risked being snubbed. It was mostly a show of wealth, proving that you could throw away clothing or furniture after only owning it for a year or two. Meanwhile lesser Fae and humans groveled, wearing threadbare clothes and using tree resin to patch up the precious little furniture they had.

The tea was lovely though, black tea with a hint of something spicy, like ginger. It complemented the finger foods well, small pastries filled with lamb and small cakes that had a layer of fluffy marshmallow, the entire thing dipped in chocolate.

Highland food appeared to be made with the intention of keeping you full and energized, something you guessed they needed while they tended to the sheep.

You had light conversation, with Soap acting as a sort of translator for the matriarch. You complimented the village, letting her know how fascinating you found the clan's history to be, to which Soap snorted. Even the matriarch's mouth tugged up in a grin, as if they didn't believe you.

"No, really!" you insisted. "I know my father's lineage quite well, but almost nothing of my mother."

The matriarch said something, and Soap winced, not translating immediately. You looked at him questioningly before he opened his mouth. "Theodric sees humans as rats, so they don' bother with recording them." He gave you an apologetic look.

You smiled sadly. "No, you're right. The humans have almost no records. They keep track of how many to a household, but usually in records that's just the last name of the eldest man, then a number next to it. First names only get remembered by families. But many humans can't even read or write anymore. Maybe some of them remember old languages," you pondered, remembering your talk with Kyle and Konig, "but if they were caught writing that, they'd be executed."

The matriarch's eyes shone with something you couldn't name. She didn't respond, and everyone ate in a somewhat heavy silence. You knew things in Theodric weren't good, but it took coming to a land of barbarians to see where the real evil was. Who the actual barbarians were.

Ghost was getting antsy, sipping on his tea but not eating. The matriarch said nothing of his mask that had yet to come off, and you wondered if she had met him before, or if Soap talked to her about it. The wraith's eyes glanced at the two Fae behind the matriarch before he leaned forward. "Matriarch, I am sure you realize we are not here just to introduce Her Majesty to the highlands."

She chuckled at that, the sound crackly, as if her lungs were full of spiderwebs. She had a knowing look in her eye, and her reply confirmed she was well aware you all weren't there for a mere trip. After all, who would come to the highlands in the winter?

Ghost looked to Soap, who nodded. He pulled out the illustration of the glyphs, sliding it towards the matriarch. Her blue eyes narrowed at the drawing. One of her crooked fingers traced over the circle slowly, thoughtfully. Her eyes snapped up. She said something, and Soap frowned before replying, something in his tone showing he was trying to convince her of something.

Her response was sharp, and Soap sighed before looking at the rest of you. "She wants to speak to Her Majesty alone."

"Alone?" you echoed. There was no way you'd understand her. But her expression made it clear she would not budge on this.

Kyle gave your hand a squeeze under the table. "We will be just outside."

Dumbly, you nodded, watching as your three males and the two guards slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with the matriarch. You gulped, fingers finding one of the buttons on your jacket. You couldn't quite bring yourself to look the matriarch in the eyes, but it felt rude not to.

Suddenly, she spoke. "You need not look so stressed, hen," she said in clear, standard Alextren. Her voice even lost a touch of the unevenness it had just before.

Your eyes rounded at the corners as you looked at her. Your mouth parted. "I...sorry."

She smiled, features looking softer. "I have my reasons for pretending. As do you, aye?" She studied the glyphs again. "I cannot tell you what these mean."

Your heart tightened in panic. "Can you not read them?"

She let out a cackle. "Of course I can read them, hen. I see the meaning clear as newsprint. You are not ready for its meaning. I can tell you its purpose, though."

"It's a message for me, right?" you guessed. "That's what Soap--Johnny--thinks."

The crone's expression didn't change. "Not quite. It's a seal."

"Seal? As in a family crest? Or...?" You blinked. "A magic seal?"

Her head bobbed. "These glyphs are an ancient alphabet of our people. But they are much more than that. These glyphs contain magic. Runes is a more appropriate term. We have allowed outsiders, even some of our own people, to be blind to the truth of these runes. They can be powerful. Dangerous in the wrong hands. A price must be paid to wield magic this ancient."

The glyphs were magic. Runes. You knew the killings were ritualistic, but in this case... "How do they hold magic?"

Her smile widened. "You know the answer to that, girl."

"Blood," you guessed with a grimace.

"Yes. Blood. Life. The highest price magic can demand. Whoever is killing those poor souls is using their very life force to imbue the runes with power."

You blew out a breath, chest tightening. "Power to do what? What's the purpose of the seal?"

"They are sealing your powers, child. Not successfully, from the looks of that redwood on the east side of my house."

Your cheeks heated, but you couldn't even feel the embarrassment that long before the meaning of the matriarch's words clanged through you. "My powers? They were never strong to begin with. Why would they need to seal it?"

She laughed again, the sound sounding strange, as if multiple voices were layered. "Silly girl. Surely you thought it strange. How could your father, the most powerful earth magic wielder in a millennia, give birth to a daughter who can barely summon a seedling? Especially when he was mated to an incredibly gifted seer."

Your breath whooshed out of you. Your knuckles were white where they sat fisted in your lap. The matriarch studied you for a moment. When she spoke next, her tone was gentler, and you as you saw her from your peripheral, you swore you saw a young woman sitting across from you, not a weathered hag. "So you did not know."

"Which part?" you barked, nearly hysteric. "That my father was mated to my mother, or that she was a seer? Because I didn't know either." Tears pricked at your eyes. "Humans...humans can mate too?"

"Of course, child. So long as one party has Fae blood, it is possible. The human party may not feel the bond in the same way, but it is there. Theodric has kept much from its people."

You wiped at your eyes as a tear escaped. "A seer? I've heard of them. Theodric accused them of being witches, right? Had them executed?"

She nodded gravely. "Theodric does not enjoy sharing power. Especially power they do not understand."

You sniffled, and had to use your napkin to dab at your eyes. Your mother, who you never had the chance to meet, who your father was deeply in love with. She was a seer. Not just any average human. She had power. Seers could see the future yes, but they could see more than that. They saw truths, which made them dangerous to people like the Theodric nobility. "Did the King know? That my mother was a seer? Did he kill her after she birthed me?"

When you looked back at the matriarch, she had fully transformed into a young female. Her hair was long, white-blonde. She had the same blue eyes as Soap, the cloudiness still present even in this form. Her skin was smooth porcelain, without a wrinkle in sight. Her posture was upright, and her voice clear and beautiful, like the sound of a bell. "Yes, and no. He knew her to be a seer, however there are old laws in your land. Laws that run through the very soil of that cursed land. They are not allowed to slay a Fae's mate if they are a citizen of the land. Her death, though tragic, was entirely natural. Fae births, even half-Fae, are notoriously difficult. She knew her fate, and chose to have you anyway."

You could no longer hold back the sobs that shook your frame. Hiccupping, you tried your best to force words out. "Why? Why would she do that? She could have had a long life with my father. She should have. And why didn't my father ever tell me that she was a seer?"

The matriarch's eyes were full of sympathy. "Because she loved you, hen. Even if she would never meet you, she loved you. Your father loves you very much, too. He could not tell you what your mother was. I imagine the King forbade it, likely demanded an oath."

She rose, movements silk. She placed a warm hand on your shoulder. You appreciated the gesture, placing your own hand on top of hers. "H-how do you know so much about her, though?"

Her eyes landed on the seal. "Have you not seen that same marking before, child?"

The first time you saw it, you did find something about it familiar. You wrote it off at the time, but--

The matriarch suddenly lifted a hand to your forehead, and the memory came back to you with a gasp. Yes, yes you had seen the seal. Many times. Carved under your bed, spotted once while you played hide-and-seek with Konig. When you asked your father about it, he evaded your question, then invited you to drink a tea that smelled like strawberries. The next day, you could not recall events of the day prior. Your father said it was a fever. Then the glyphs rose to your memory again, etched into the pommel of your sword, so small you thought it was an imperfection in the wood, perhaps some carved detail that lost its shape.

You were pulled out of the memory, eyes wide as you stared at the Fae female. She stepped away from you, gliding to the fireplace, gazing at a tapestry hanging above the mantle. The threads were still bright, retaining their color. It depicted a castle, overgrown with vines. "Your mother came to me when she fell pregnant with you. She saw what you would become, and needed a way to keep you safe."

"You're saying my mother sealed my powers?" Your tears stopped coming. "Why would she do that?"

"Power levels are tested when you come of age in Theodric," she said, still staring at the tapestry. "Have you ever wondered why, Lunelle?"

You knew the answer they told you. "To ensure hidden talent has a chance to serve the crown."

"Oh yes, that is part of it. But it is mainly because that King is a coward. He is terrified of losing power. If a young Fae male or female show even the slightest hint of being capable of overpowering him, he makes sure to dispose of them quickly." Her lip curled. "Your mother saw what would happen to you. So she created the seal to hide you from him. I imagine the King had an interest in you this entire time. Your father did his best to keep you away, but it would not have protected you forever."

You stared at the seal. "So she locked my powers away."

"Yes. But not forever. The seal will break, when you are ready. It has already begun fracturing."

"How will I know when I'm ready?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. "How can I possibly be more powerful than the King? It's just...earth magic. I'm only half."

But when you looked back up to the matriarch for answers, she was gone.

The tapestry billowed on an invisible breeze, and you stood to inspect it closer. A white castle, smothered in vines. Light pouring through the windows. A series of glyphs, woven behind the castle, in the background.

The same as the drawing that sat abandoned on the table.

Chapter Text

The room must have been warded against sound. That, or the stone walls were so thick it was impossible to hear past them.

After the matriarch vanished, you sank to your knees in front of the fireplace, staring up at the tapestry with tears running down your face. One of the males must have eventually decided that the amount of time passed was suspicious, and the door opened.

Kyle immediately came to your side, with Soap not far behind. Ghost eyed you warily, unsure what to do.

"What happened, love?" Kyle asked, rubbing your back before you threw yourself into his arms, still kneeling on the ground. Your mate continued to comfort you, frowning questioningly at Soap.

The hyena shifter's eyes went around the room. "The matriarch is a powerful female. She ken many a thing. Ya get answers, lass?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "and no. Not at all."

Ghost slowly approached. "Did she tell you? What the glyphs mean?"

You sniffed, and Kyle produced a handkerchief for you to blow your nose with. You took a few breaths before relaying all the information the matriarch gave you. Each male looked mildly disturbed, though Soap didn't seem too surprised.

"You knew," Ghost accused. "You knew the glyphs held magic."

"Yes, but it's not common knowledge," he defended. "The runes are protected here, Ghost. I cannae just give away that information without permission."

The wraith's eyes blazed, his pupils nearly gone. "Ghost, stop," you sighed. "It's fine. We have answers now. Besides, Soap did say there was more to the glyphs. You were the one who didn't want to listen."

Ghost couldn't even argue against you. Kyle kissed the top of your head. "But hey, it is a step forward. Even if you still are unsure what the seal means exactly. I imagine knowing its meaning would allow you to break it."

You nodded, rubbing at your eyes. You felt a weariness that ran bone-deep. "If she was a seer...maybe she saw that I'd come here. Maybe the matriarch was just waiting for the day I showed up." Your eyes found the tapestry again. This time the males followed your gaze, and Soap swore lowly. Looks like he'd never noticed it before, either.

"It's a Gods-damned prophecy," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at the tapestry. "Yer mother was a seer, lass. That's what she saw for ya. She must 'ave visited here sometime, maybe even before she met yer da'."

"My father." You suddenly perked up. "I need to send a message to my father."

There was a moment of silence before Ghost spoke. "Your Majesty, a letter from here would take more than a month to make it back to Theodric. If the King was suspicious of your father, odds are he will be intercepting messages to him. Especially from you. A reply will take just as long to reach you."

The reminder your father always gave you echoed in your head. "I don't need to write a letter," you said, "the trees are connected."

"Trees?" Ghost's brows drew together. "The highlands are a bit sparse. Do you need to head back to the forest? We can leave after--"

"There just so happens to be a tree very close by," Kyle said, hazelnut eyes glinting with amusement. "One Lunelle grew herself."

-   -   -

The redwood was still there, not far from the window of the room you shared with Kyle. The sight of it made you blush, and even Soap nudged the panther shifter, asking what exactly he did. Kyle shushed him, and you were glad.

You kneeled at the foot of the tree, placing your hands on the cool, rough bark. As always, you could feel life humming through the tree. You closed your eyes, and you could sense every leaf, twig, and...ah. There they were. The roots, spreading deep into the earth.

"Er, princess, how do ya plan sendin' a message to your da' this way?" Soap asked hesitantly.

"The trees are connected," you breathed. "The roots. Trees, and other plants, can send messages through their root system. It's hard to explain. It's not messages like you and I think of a message, but signals. Earth magic wielders can use that to our advantage. If you know how to interpret the signals, you can send a message."

"There aren't any trees for a while," Kyle observed.

You shook your head. "There's grass. Weeds. Bushes. They'll carry the message. It will reach him. My father is even more connected to the earth than I am. He'll recognize me immediately."

Ghost crossed his arms. "And how can you be sure no other earth gifted will intercept it?"

"Father taught me a code when I was young. Myself, and Konig. If anyone else picks up on it, they will only find a bland message about the weather and what I had for dinner. But it will be fine. I don't think many earth wielders would willingly intercept a message meant for General Travan. He would know. Now if you would all be quiet?"

Silence fell, and you shut your eyes as you concentrated, sending your message through to the roots. They pulsed in response, and you only needed to hold on for a moment before letting go. The plants would do the rest. You desperately wanted to speak to Konig, to ask him if he knew, but you doubted it. His opinion would have to wait until you returned home.

You wanted to slump in the snowy grass, and wait by the tree until your father replied. But even the trees would take time to send the message over that distance. You gave the message a general direction, so you could only hope the king hadn't sent your father out to war again just yet. Your mate wouldn't let you stay there though, grabbing you by the arms and hoisting you up.

Kyle brought you back to your room with the strict command to rest until dinner. Kyle offered to stay with you, but you needed to talk to Soap. "I'd love for you to stay, Kyle, but can I talk to Soap first?"

He nodded immediately, exiting the room. He nearly had to shove Ghost out, who had been staring at you with a strange tightness around his eyes since he saw you crying in the tea parlor. But now you were left with Soap, who sat gingerly down on the bed next to you.

"Give me your hand, I need to ward," you said, and the hyena shifter immediately held his large hand out to you. Once you cast the charm, you leaned in towards him. "The matriarch. What...is she, exactly?"

Soap gave you a small smile that meant he knew what you were talking about. "She is Fae. Beyond that, no one can be certain, lass. I cannae give you much information about her. All I ken is that she's been matriarch for a very, very long time."

Nodding, you reached for your sword that had been resting up against the bed. Keeping the sword in its sheath, you studied the pommel until you found that ring of runes. "Do you know how I can get rid of this?"

Soap hesitated. "Princess, yer mother or father put it there. It will break when yer ready."

You blinked. "I didn't ask before. Can...can humans use runes, too?"

His eyes darkened. "Aye. That is part of the reason it is kept a secret. In these lands humans are on better terms with our kind, but no one really wants to forfeit power, eh? The magic is not inherent to Fae. It's magic of the earth. As old as life, I reckon."

The seal would break when you were ready. What did that even mean? Especially if it was beginning to crack. Were you almost ready? What had your mother seen in your future to make her so sure? You still had one more question. "The runes, they're kept secret. You wouldn't even tell John. So how the hell does the murderer know about them? Not only how to imbue them with magic, but the ones my mother specifically created for me? It's designed to break."

Soap rubbed the stubble on his cheeks thoughtfully. "Tha' is the question, innit? I suppose the bastard saw them. Maybe in yer house. Maybe the killer is from the highlands. Perhaps they do not ken that it's designed to be broken. Or maybe they do, but they're tryin' to protect ya."

"Maybe my father will finally come clean now that I know." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "You said that tapestry was a prophecy. What sort of prophecy do you think it is?"

The shifter eyed you warily. "Lass, I ken ya recognized that castle same as I."

"The Theodric castle," you whispered, grimacing. You had hoped it was perhaps some other castle. Maybe a metaphor. Weren't prophecies supposed to be vague? 

Soap gave you a half-hearted smile. He stroked your hair, standing and kissing the top of your head. "Yer not alone, lass. The future is subjective. It can change. But yer not alone."

You gave him a watery smile, and he gently cuffed your chin. "Tha's our girl. Now rest up. There's another feast tonight."

Another? Your mouth popped open, and Soap chuckled. "The highlanders love any reason to drink."

He left, and Kyle came back in. He had questions swimming in his eyes, which were caramel as he stoked the fire with a thought. But he didn't voice any of them, likely sensing you couldn't handle it right now. Instead he pulled you into his arms, laying down behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, and his arms caged around you while his long legs scooped yours up as he bent them. His scent and warmth instantly steadied you, and Kyle began a soft but continuous chatter about his morning sparring with Soap and some of the highlanders.

The panther shifter's voice was like molten silk, and soon you drifted off into a fitful sleep.

-  -  -

Your mind felt far away. Around you, Fae laughed and drank, chattering loudly in that same Alextren dialect you were starting to pick up a few words in. But the sounds were muffled, distorted.

Your eyes had been trained on the table in front of you, unseeing. You had not touched your plate of food, which Soap had made for you. Not even the scent of rosemary could entice you to take a bite. No; your mind was a swirling mess of runes, magic, and prophecy.

"Love? Lunelle? Lunelle!" Kyle's voice suddenly cut through your haze like a knife. Blinking, your eyes focused. They shifted to your mate's face, his expression pinched with worry. "I thought bringing you here would be a nice distraction, but perhaps I was wrong. Would you like to go back to bed?"

Distraction. Honestly, that was exactly what you needed. You eyed the goblet of amber liquid beside your plate. "No, I want to stay here," you insisted, though your voice was weak. You reached for the goblet, lifting it to your lips and swallowing it down in a few gulps.

Kyle watched you, wary. Not wanting him to worry, you gave him a half-hearted smile, handing him a goblet. "Really, Kyle. I'm alright. Come on, drink. Have fun. For me."

Your mate's desire to please won out, and he began drinking the sweet mead, though decidedly slower than you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and coaxed you to eat. Honestly, you had absolutely no appetite. But the mead was sweet, and someone was circling the packed dining hall with glasses of brambleberry wine. You reached for it, savoring the slightly sour tang that spread across your pallet.

Attempting to placate Kyle, you took a few more bites, though the wine kept coming. Eventually a group of Fae females approached you, their hair curling in all directions and hanging loose down their backs. They invited you to dance, and Kyle nearly refused for you. You stopped him, flashing another fake smile and taking their outstretched hands.

One more glass of wine and you finally let go of all the worries and stress plaguing you. You danced around the fire with the other females of the village, twirling freely as the fire mimicked your motions. You laughed, the sound filling your lungs and head with blessed air.

A female with dark hair and those blue MacTavish eyes twirled you in a circle, and you both laughed as you skipped another round around the blazing fire. Other Fae sat a little ways back, laughing and commenting as they watched you all. Occasionally a Fae would drop out, falling to the ground in a pool of giggles. Other Fae would join in, the ebb and flow keeping a constant circle of bodies winding round and round.

Eventually your thighs ached and your lungs burned as your chest heaved, exhaustion demanding you stop even though the alcohol beckoned you to keep going. The world spun as you stumbled from the throng of bodies, the sound of drums and a fiddle acting as timekeeper for the remaining frolicking Fae.

You laughed, stumbling as you sat atop a large rock cleared of snow. A figure approached you, smile flashing white in the dark.

"Keegan!" you greeted, the wine filling you with bubbles.

"Your Majesty," he murmured, finding your hand to kiss your knuckles, his lips warm on your skin. "How did your tea hour go?"

The question made your smile drop. You quickly worked to replace it, though it was weaker. "Fine. How was your day, Keegan?" Your words slurred together, the vowels elongated and muddled.

Keegan didn't seem to mind though, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Abysmal without your presence, Your Majesty." He grinned, and you noticed a dimple in his cheek.

Reaching out, you touched the dip in his cheek. "You have dimples," you murmured in wonder. "I wish I had dimples."

Keegan's blue eyes flared as his grin broadened. "I think you're beautiful even without them. Your charms have no need for dimples."

You laughed, the fog of wine preventing his compliment from conjuring any sort of embarrassment from you. "Thanks, Keegan." 

Exhaustion was catching up with you though, and you sighed, slumping slightly. Keegan was there though, an arm wrapping around your waist like a snake. "You look tired, Your Majesty. Allow me to escort you back to your rooms?"

There was something in his eyes, some sort of strange light. You couldn't explain it, but it left a weird tightness squeezing at your chest, tensing your muscles. But as soon as the feeling came it escaped. "Your Majesty," Keegan's voice cooed, smoother than silk. That was all it took to calm you, a blanket of peace falling over your mind.

That's right. Keegan was safe. He was your friend. You could trust him.

Delirious, you smiled at him. Keegan began bringing you back to your room, sliding through the crowd of people effortlessly. A stab of unease cut through your mind, telling you to find Kyle. Soap. Hell, even Ghost. But as soon as the thought came, it melted back into calm. 

You made it into the house and up the stairs, dodging a drunken male who was keeled over, about to be sick on the stone steps. Keegan's hand tightened on your waist as you made it to the hallway. He made it to your door, but even as he turned the knob, the door refused to open. He grumbled something in that strange Alextren, something you could only guess was a curse.

Suddenly Keegan had you pinned to the door. "I preferred a bed, but looks like your room's been warded. That's fine. I can just take you here, against the wall."

You frowned. Something felt wrong. Your brain was fighting, screaming. But each time the feeling came up for air, another wave of calm battered it down. Slowly, you reached for the knob. As your fingers closed around it, you saw the darkness behind Keegan move.

Your eyes widened a fraction, and Keegan turned, but it was too late. The darkness had solidified, and Ghost had a hand wrapped around the male's throat, dragging him away from you and pinning him to the wall.

Letting out a gasp, your eyes widened. Ghost's eyes were glowing in the dimness of the hall as he growled in Keegan's face. "Bloody worm," he snarled. "I just knew you would try something with her."

Keegan grinned, and Ghost's expression relaxed a touch. It only lasted a moment though, before Ghost dropped the male back onto his feet only sent his fist flying into Keegan's nose with a crunch. "I dare you to try to manipulate my emotions one more time." His head inclined towards you slightly, but he kept his eyes on Keegan. "Your Majesty, shield your mind. I suspect this vile creature has been taking control of your emotions the entire time you were in his presence."

Keegan crumpled to the ground, laughing. His nose was crooked at a strange angle, blood flowing from his nostrils into his mouth. "Cannae blame me for trying, can you?"

The violence sobered you, and suddenly you saw everything in stark clarity. Keegan was manipulating you. Calming you. This time, your lips pulled from your teeth. "You said you had wind gifts."

"I do," he said, still wearing that infuriating grin. "I never said I only had wind gifts, Your Majesty."

Ghost loomed over Keegan, his shoulders high and tight with murderous rage. "The last male who dared touch Her Majesty against her will lost his hand, then his life. Which should I take from you first, vermin?"

Keegan held out his wrists. "Go ahead, then."

Ghost produced a slim blade from a holster on his thigh, and you stopped him. "Ghost."

He whirled to you, eyes crazed. You shook your head once. "Let's give him to the matriarch."

The wraith scoffed. "Your Majesty, I can assure you this filthy excuse for a male had no honorable intentions towards you at all. The world will be better without him."

"I know." You sighed. "I agree. But this isn't our land. The matriarch will punish him. Or allow us to. I don't want anyone here having a reason to hold a grudge against us." You placed your hand on Ghost's arm gently, and he stiffened a touch. "Think."

"Your Majesty, I have not possessed the capacity for clear thought since I saw his hands on you." Ghost was nearly vibrating beneath your touch, his gaze still holding a touch of madness. "If you think Kyle will not also demand his head for this, you are sorely mistaken."

"But Soap--"

Ghost cut you off before you could get any further. "Soap will likely wish for more than his death. He will petition to have this piece of filth's head on a pike."

Keegan paled a bit at that, but still kept that grin. "C'mon, Ghosty lad. Her Majesty won't let that happen to me. Will you, Lunelle?"

"Oh for fuck's sake." You growled, grabbing the knife from Ghost's hand. The wraith merely watched as you slammed the handle of the knife into Keegan's head, the male slumping against the wall as his eyes rolled back, then shut. Ghost gave you a look, and you returned it as you pressed his blade back into his hand. "What? The sound of my name on his lips was driving me up a wall."

The wraith still didn't say anything, his gaze slowly dragging to the unconscious Fae on the ground. A moment later, both Kyle and Soap appeared. Kyle looked frantic, the ends of his fingers glowing with flame. Soap's cheeks were red, the hyena shifter clearly more than a few ales in. But his blue eyes were alert, narrowing as they took in Keegan on the ground.

"What happened?" Soap asked gruffly.

You and Ghost shared a look before the wraith responded. "He tried to touch her."

"Bleedin' bastard," Soap snarled, stalking forward with his fists clenched. Kyle went directly to you, frowning and cupping your face in his hands, eyes searching your face before scanning you up and down, searching for injuries.

"I'm okay," you assured him softly before looking to Soap. Ghost was making no move to stop him. "Soap! Stop. I want to take him to the matriarch."

Soap froze, fist frozen in midair. He let out a growl of frustration before he moved to pick Keegan up like a sack of potatoes instead, throwing him over his shoulder. "Fine. We go now."

-   -   -

The matriarch was still sitting outside despite the late hour and chill to the air. Before, you might have worried for the crone's health, but you knew better now.

The matriarch sat with a group of other elderly Fae around a fire much smaller than the one still raging a couple hundred paces back, where Fae still tumbled and twirled around it, their happy laughter dissolving into the night sky.

The matriarch's cloudy eyes took in Keegan, unconscious and draped over Soap's shoulder. Once he was in front of the matriarch, he unceremoniously dumped Keegan onto the ground, and you couldn't help but wince as the male's upper body thumped onto the frozen ground. He'd have a very, very bad headache when he woke up.

Soap exchanged words with her for a while. You knew she could speak standard Alextren and Common--likely a great number of languages--but you held your tongue. The matriarch's milky eyes found your face while Soap talked, but her expression gave nothing away. The shifter finished explaining what happened, and the Fae gathered around the fire murmured in disapproval.

The matriarch said something as she looked at you. You looked towards Soap, who translated. "She says his punishment is up to you, lass. The elders will honor it."

You swallowed back the emotion that rose in your lungs. They didn't argue about how Keegan was a good male, didn't doubt that he had violated you. They believed you, and would let you choose his punishment. You saw situations like this play out the opposite way far too many times back in Theodric. Often sons of noble Fae families got into trouble, and women would come screaming into the castle. Their accusations always fell on deaf ears, and while publicly these males were condoned, nothing ever actually happened to them. The males' wellbeing took place over the females'.

"I want his ability to manipulate emotions taken away," you responded. "And his elemental gifts. I want him to feel powerless, just like every female he's used that horrid gift on."

Just then, Keegan let out a low groan. He put his hands on his head, wincing as his eyes fluttered open. His eyes focused, darting around. He realized where he was, and was quick to sit up. There was a bit of dried blood on his temple where you hit him with the knife handle. Looked like you drew blood. You weren't sorry.

Keegan licked his lips and started saying something to the matriarch, but she raised a hand to stop him. She glanced at you, then nodded once.

"That's possible?" Kyle asked softly. "Taking his magic?"

You were amazed, too, but you already knew there was a way to at least seal away magic, your own existence a testament to that. What you didn't know was if the matriarch would grant your request. You let out a breath of relief, and understanding was beginning to dawn on Keegan, his eyes widening as he crawled towards the matriarch on his hands and knees.

He began to beg her, but the matriarch ignored him. So he turned his sights to you, looking devastated. "Please, Your Majesty. Show mercy. If I don't have my powers, I cannae do anything. I'll be no one. Can you even begin to understand what that will be like?"

Your brows rose. "I can, actually."

The matriarch crooked one withered hand, and two Fae males appeared, grabbing both of Keegan's arms and yanking him to the matriarch again. Keegan stood on his knees in front of the female, his chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes darted around like a caged animal. The matriarch produced a slim blade, then beckoned you forward.

Rune magic had a price. You held your hand out, wincing as she slid the blade across your palm, the cut shallow. Blood pooled to the surface, and one of those wrinkled fingers dipped into the pool. Keegan struggled, but it didn't stop the crone from tracing out three runes across his forehead in your blood. As soon as she finished, the runes seemed to glow a sickly red before they vanished into his skin. You stared in wonder.

Keegan sucked in a breath before he collapsed. Sobs shook his frame, and you felt a wave of pity.

Kyle reached for your hand, wrapping a handkerchief around the cut to stop the bleeding. The matriarch dipped her head, and soon after you were being pulled away by your mate.

"The runes," you breathed. "They really took away his magic?"

"Sealed it at least," Soap confirmed with a nod. "Not sure if there is truly a way to remove them. Do ya regret it, princess?"

You shook your head. "No. I don't regret it."

"Good." Kyle's thumb soothed over your knuckles. "Gods, if those runes truly only require sacrifice to wield magic, and they are powerful enough to seal a Fae's magic...I do not blame you all for hiding them," he said to Soap.

"Dangerous in the wrong hands," Ghost agreed quietly.

If the Theodric Fae got their hands on information like that... You shuddered. You could only imagine the things the king would do, the lengths he would go to in order to ensure his own power and authority. You thanked the Gods the highlanders were not only isolated, but smart enough to keep the information carefully controlled.

"It's been a very long day," Kyle said as you approached your shared wing of the house. "Everyone should get some rest. Lunelle most of all."

Your mate was right of course. You said your goodnights to Soap and Ghost, putting a hand on Ghost's arm to stop him from entering his room. "Thank you, Ghost. I can usually look after myself, but the way he made me feel calm..." You squeezed your eyes shut. "I didn't even feel the need to defend myself. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found me."

Kyle slipped into your shared room first, sensing you needed a moment with the wraith. The door clicked shut, and Ghost was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was the softest you'd ever heard it. "I will always save you. Goodnight, Lunelle."

He slipped into his room, and you stared at his door for a few beats before entering your own room. After a bath, Kyle wrapped you in his arms.

But not even your mate could save you from nightmares of castle walls covered in bloody runes.

Chapter Text

The day immediately following the rather traumatizing event with Keegan was spent resting in your room.

You felt awful, but mentally you weren't prepared to face anyone right now. The remaining gatherings that had been planned, including your farewell party, were cancelled. Would the highlanders think you were uptight? Snobbish? That you didn't know how to have fun? Did they know about Keegan? Would their eyes be full of hatred? Would his parents seek you out and demand his magic be unsealed?

Your stomach was a knot of worry. Your males kept you calm, keeping you company and eating with you. Their large bodies all crammed into the room that was decidedly only meant for sleeping made the space feel a bit cramped, but their easy smiles and laughter made you feel less lost.

"I just feel like I'm missing out on opportunities to get to know the highlanders better," you groused into your tea.

"Your Highness, the purpose of this visit was not a true tour," Ghost reminded.

Soap was dealing everyone in for a round of cards, everyone seated around a small table the hyena shifter dragged in. Even Ghost was going to join the game. He hadn't left your side, which was surprising and...not surprising. Part of you still wondered if he disliked you. If his actions were motivated by loyalty to your crown alone. But his presence gave you that answer, and you were grateful. John had been right, it seemed.

You sighed softly. "Feels like a waste of time to be sitting in here all day."

"Your life is not an optimization problem," Kyle said, straightening his cards in his hand. "Time spent resting is time well spent. You need and deserve rest, love. You should not feel guilty about it."

"I hate it when you're right."

Soap hit the table, the sound making you startle. "Finally! Someone else seein' Gaz for what he is: a know-it-all!"

You grinned, pinching one of the cards in your hand and setting it down, Ghost following suit.

But with only three days left before you were all set to depart, you couldn't bring yourself to stay holed up. The next day Soap took you out for a tour of the village himself, wanting to replace the memory of Keegan.

Soap was a thorough guide, though you found Keegan hadn't lied about anything regarding the village or its history. Soap was more familiar with the highlanders though, engaging in easy conversation and sharing boisterous laughter. Everyone treated you kindly, and you didn't hear Keegan's name once. A kind couple, a ruddy-cheeked fae male with ocean MacTavish eyes and his beautiful, dark-skinned mate who had eyes like blooming sunflowers, brown at the middle and blooming into yellow, invited you to eat lunch with them after Soap had conversed with them for a while. The male was one of his many cousins, and told you stories about Soap getting his ass handed to him when they were children.

"We cannae all be born talented!" Soap said indignantly. "I worked for my skill at combat, ye bastard!"

You chuckled, feeling light, despite the rock in your stomach. The food was delicious, the kind that warmed you from the inside out and made you feel so delightfully full you were sure you'd pop. Both you and Soap took a basket of buttery cookies for the road, heading back to the estate.

You chewed on one of those delectable cookies, wiping crumbs from your lips. "Soap?"

"Yes, princess?"

"I need to speak with the matriarch again. I still have some questions. Even if she won't answer them, I'd like to ask anyway."

The shifter frowned, but his eyes softened with understanding. "Aye. I shall arrange it."

"Thank you." You had so many questions. Many about your mother, about what that damned tapestry meant, but you had more pressing issues too, ones that related to the killings back in the capital. Without those answers, you'd all still be stuck.

-   -   -

Soap, Gods bless him, managed to get you an audience after dinner that night. The crone hadn't joined you for any meals, and even during the wild celebrations the previous days, she tended to stay with other elderly members of the council. This was her home, but you saw little of her in it.

But now you were back in the tea parlor, though this time there were no finger sandwiches, no faded pots of earl grey. Just you, Soap, and the matriarch. Ghost and Kyle requested to join as well, but they hadn't been permitted. You couldn't understand why, when you'd tell them anything you learned anyway. Perhaps the matriarch just didn't like them.

Now, in the small room, your eyes pinned to that damned tapestry, hanging above the matriarch's head. She didn't bother pretending she could only speak the complex highland dialect when she opened her mouth. "You still have questions, child?"

"Many." Your hands tightened in your lap. "I know you won't tell me what the seal means on my magic, or how to break it, or when. But..." You chewed on the inside of your cheek. "You made it for my mother, yes? Based on whatever vision she had. I just...I don't understand why. Why did it have to be me? If she saw some sort of prophecy for me, why would she leave me with nothing? No note, no clue? Why did she sacrifice herself only to offer me up to the chopping block next?"

The backs of your eyes stung. You admittedly held an ounce of resentment for the mother you never knew. She left your father behind, left you behind. Only for you to learn you were expected to do something great and awful? You always wanted more power, there was no denying that. But did it have to come with such a hefty price tag? The runes were teaching you that magic always had a cost, but why were you the only one required to pay? Other powerful Fae strutted about , taking advantage of others and putting the powerless beneath their boots. It wasn't fair.

The matriarch's gnarled fingers curled on the table. "I cannot tell you exactly why your mother did the things that she did. Whatever her reasons were for leaving you in the dark, she died with."

You weren't going to get any answers, then. Your knuckles turned white. "Then what about the killer running amok? How do they know about the runes? About the seal on my magic? If it's designed to break, why are they trying to strengthen it?"

Soap glanced nervously between you and the matriarch. "Is it possible they came from the highlands?" he asked.

The crone's eyes narrowed. "I am afraid I can give you no clues on the identity of your killer. Perhaps they saw the seal somewhere, and are unaware of its true meaning. We have long protected this ancient magic, but that does not mean there are not any others who know of them. It would be foolish to assume we are the only ones who remember the call of the earth, of the gifts she promises. If the culprit truly does know of the runes, you need to be cautious. If you seek to understand the magic of the runes, you know where to search for answers, John MacTavish."

Soap swore lowly, sitting back. "Ya don' mean ya think I should take the lass to the cave?"

The curl of her wrinkled lips was her only answer. You frowned at Soap. "Cave? What's in the cave?"

You turned to see if the matriarch would answer, but she was gone, seat vacant. With a groan, you rubbed at your face. "Cryptic old hag," you grumbled.

"Ye will find out about the caves tomorro'," Soap answered, though his expression was a bit tight. "We'll leave in the mornin'."

-   -   -

Ghost's eyes were silver slits. Kyle was pacing back and forth just behind you while you strapped on every blade you owned, keeping your thick leather armor strapped tight over your wool underlayers.

"I do not like this," Kyle said for the fifth or sixth time.

"There is no way for us to accompany you?" Ghost demanded for the third time.

Soap, visibly annoyed, let out a sharp breath. "No. I 'ave told you already, but it's keyed to MacTavish blood. One MacTavish, one guest. I cannae bring more. The cave will know."

"I'll be fine," you assured both males, fingers working out tangles in your hair as you started to braid it. You winced, and Kyle came up behind you to take over, his long fingers quickly twisting the strands, adding more hair as he went to create a long plait down your back. The gesture made your heart melt. "Thanks, Kyle." You turned your head, and he kissed your cheek. "It's just a cave. Not like there's going to be any danger besides maybe a few animals. Right, Soap?"

The hyena shifter avoided your eyes, lacing a leather greave around his calf. You blinked. "Right, Soap?"

He winced, tying the cord off. "The caves are old, princess. There are old, ancient beasts and traps. If yer heart is true, ye should be fine."

"Should be?" Kyle's voice pitched up an octave. "Okay, now I really do not like this."

"Nor do I." Ghost's gloved hand tightened over the pommel of his sword. "Is it absolutely necessary? Venturing into the caves?"

"Yes," you sighed, wrapping your cloak around your shoulders and pinning it at the neck. It was black, lined in soft dove-gray fur. You hoped the caves wouldn't ruin it. "The matriarch, despite being a vague old wench, was right; we need to understand these runes better. If the killer knows about them, the magic could be devastating. They can do much more than just seal my powers."

"Then they would have by now," Ghost grit out through his teeth. Wow, this had to be a record for words spoken in an hour from him.

"Either way, I want to learn. They could be helpful. Especially if what my mother saw for my future is true." You frowned, not really wanting to face that possibility just yet. "I might also need to figure out how to break my seal sooner than expected. But I'll be fine. I promise. I'm a soldier. Plus, I have Soap."

Soap nodded gravely, clapping a hand on Ghost's shoulder. "I won' let anything happen to the lass, mate. Promise."

The wraith must have seen something in Soap's soft eyes, because he gave one stiff nod after a moment. Kyle's brows were still pinched.

"Look, if we're not out in an hour, fetch the matriarch. Someone else with MacTavish blood can give you access to the caves if needed. But we'll be fine. Have some faith. I'm true of heart." You gave your mate a half-smile, cupping his cheeks in your hands. He hadn't shaved in a day or two, and the soft growth of stubble prickled against your palms. You pulled him down towards you to plant a gentle kiss on his pillowy lips, then pulled away. "Trust me."

"I do," he whispered against your lips before kissing you again.

Soap made a noise in the back of his throat, and you reluctantly pulled away. Kyle kept your hand in his, only letting go when everyone mounted their horses to head to the cave entrances.

The highlands stretched to the northernmost border of Alextre, met by a cold, dark gray sea. It was an hour ride to the coast, and the air was considerably cooler, a violent wind whipping the loose strands of hair around your face every which way. The smell of salt permeated the air, the sound of crashing waves acting as an ominous mirror to the blood rushing through your veins.

Eventually you reached a point where the horses refused to go any further, neighing and rearing back while their heads thrashed. You gripped Quick Silver's reins to keep from falling off, shushing her with a few soothing strokes to her neck. Kyle decided he'd stay with the horses while Ghost accompanied you and Soap to the entrance of the cave.

Your walk was mostly silent, boots crunching against the frozen ground while the sea sloshed against the rocks of a cliff. The waves danced, growing more and more restless the closer you got to the cave entrance. As you reached the edge of a cliff, Soap began making his way down an old, eroded set of stone stairs that glistened with salt.

"I am behind you," Ghost said quietly as he noticed you hesitate.

It gave you the courage you needed to begin your descent, seawater misting the three of you as the wind gusted. You shuddered, the wind starting to sound startlingly similar to voices. The soft whispers rose as you made your way down the stairs, and you nearly covered your ears as you reached the bottom, arriving at a yawning mouth. You joined Soap at the entrance to the cave, and suddenly the whispers ceased.

The air was silent, still. Eerily so, with even the thrashing of the sea just behind you lulling to a soft hush. The mouth of the cave was smooth, worn down by time and salt. A stone doorway stood before you, carved in a scene of Fae gathered around something you couldn't make out in the dim light. Runes decorated the carving, surrounding the gathered Fae and intertwined into their clothing, hair. Goosebumps rose on your arms, a shudder racing down your back.

"Ye can go no further," Soap told Ghost gravely. "Lass, ye will need to offer yer blood."

That hardly surprised you. Ghost caught your eye before you stepped forward, and you gave him a small smile that you hoped was reassuring. His expression was a mystery, hidden behind his usual skull mask. So you stepped forward with Soap, watching as he slid his blade across his palm. Why did it always have to be the hands you cut open? It would make wielding your sword more difficult if you needed it later. Soap cleaned his blade off before offering it to you.

You sighed, but reopened the wound the matriarch left on your skin days ago, watching as Soap pressed his bloody hand to the dark stone. He jerked his head, so you copied him, pressing your bloodied palm to the cool stone. Remnants of salt stung, and you winced. As you both pulled your hands away, the runes around the door lit up red, absorbing your blood as tithe before they creaked open, slowly swinging backwards.

In front of you, a dark hall loomed, though torches began bursting to life with sputtering hisses.

"See ya on the other side," Soap quipped to Ghost before taking your hand and leading you into the darkness.

-   -   -

The walls of the cave were lined with runes. You had this unnerving feeling they were watching you, as if sentient. The quiet from before was interrupted with soft hissing voices, though you could not make out what they were saying.

"Do you hear that?" you asked Soap, doing your best to keep your voice even.

The shifter glanced at you, frowning. "Hear what?"

Well, fuck. You hoped the voices weren't talking about how tasty you'd be or something equally horrific. "I hear...voices."

Soap's jaw worked for a second. "As I said, lass, this is old magic. I cannae say what might happen. Only that if yer heart is true, then ye 'ave nothing to fear."

"Comforting," you said, voice small.

Still, the two of you continued. There were more carvings along the cave walls, of Fae, humans, and other creatures you had never seen before. Half-men half-horse beings, long hair flowing in the wind as they nocked arrows, creatures that looked like men but stood great heights above them, animals that looked far larger than you were used to, some with horns or antlers atop their head where you knew there to be none.

Frowning, you wondered at the carvings, looking forward as the long corridor opened up to a large room. The ceiling was high, domed and carved as well. Soap pulled a torch from the wall, and you saw the firelight reflect on the ceiling. With a gasp you realized the reflections to be stars, the stone embedded with some sort of reflective material, be it mirrors or something else.

In the center of the room stood five statues in a ring. Soap was peering around the outer wall of the room, but you ventured forward, legs carrying you closer to the statues before you could process that what you were doing might be a very bad idea.

One statue depicted a female adorned in armor, hair pulled back in small, tight braids. Her expression was vicious, arm raised with a curved sword in her grip. Jewelry lined her wrists, neck, and ears. She wore boots, and beneath her feet was a single rune. You met the statue's eyes before that feeling of being watched returned, so you quickly looked away and went to the statue to her left.

This was a male, his chest and shoulders as broad as Konig, with the height to match. His hair was long, with a beard to match. He wore simple clothes, some sort of tunic with an apron draped over it. Tools lined the apron's belt, and he held a thick hammer. His expression was neutral, mouth soft and eyes relaxed.

Next to the male was another female, with waving hair that fell to her bare feet. She was nearly nude, body adorned with a complex weaving of vines and flowers. If you peered closely, there were even small animals and insects resting among the foliage and within it. Her curves were full, eyes half-lidded and lips pulled into a close-lipped smile. Just looking at her brought you a sense of peace, and your gaze lingered on her for a few moments as you studied the next figure.

This one was androgynous, the sharp cheekbones and upturned eyes neither inherently male nor female. Like all the others, their hair was long, straight. It fell neatly to their shoulders, pushed back behind ears adorned with dangling piercings. They wore a long robe, one hand raised before them, palm upturned, while the other sat tucked closer to their body, holding a scroll filled with runes.

Next to them was a statue that made you shiver immediately. Their face was gaunt, sunken in as they peered from behind a great hood. Their clothing was also simple, a mere robe belted at the waist. They had no hair that you could see, with one bony hand stretched slightly out, palm facing you and upright, while the other was turned downward.

Each statue held a single rune just beneath their feet, carved into their stone bases. They were intricately carved, with painstaking attention to detail. None of the statues had worn with age, their gazes so lifelike it was a bit unsettling.

"Soap?" you called, voice quiet but still feeling far too loud in the space. "Are these...the Old Gods?"

More whispers surrounded you, words indiscernible but feeling even closer than they had before. You did you best to ignore them, slowly walking around the five statues again.

"Aye," he confirmed. "Baidhe, Goddess of Battle." He gestured to the sword-wielding female. "Ceathdag, God of Creation." The bearded male. "Anail, Goddess of Life." The flower-covered female. "Eolas, Godde of Knowledge." The figure holding the scroll. "And Crioch, Godde of Death." The hooded deity.

Looking into their faces, you felt a pang in your chest. How many other Gods had been forgotten, left behind? How many small communities in Theodric had forgotten their Gods, or perhaps worshipped in secret? What happened when Gods were forgotten? Did they lose power? Mourn the loss of their worshippers like mothers tending to the graves of their children? Did they fade away, bleeding their existence into the earth?

But the fact that Soap knew their names, and the weight of their stony stares told you these Gods had not yet faded into the ether. They felt eerily present, as if their statues could shift positions or blink at you at any moment.

"Do the highlanders still worship them?" you asked curiously, walking back around the ring until you stood in front of Anail, something about her expression making you feel at ease.

"Aye, many do. Some of these Gods are still remembered in other parts of Alextre as well, though their names may 'ave changed a bit."

That made you feel a bit better. You tilted your head at Anail, the Goddess's gaze feeling warm, liquid. You felt yourself drawing further into her, the whispering at your back growing louder and louder until it was right by your ear.

"My child. Child of life," a warm feminine voice sounded. "Come to greet your mother at last."

You stiffened, eyes widening. "You're not my mother."

Soap's eyes were wide as he watched you. "Princess, who the bloody hell are you talking to?"

"I am mother of all," came the honeyed response, followed by a soft laugh. "But especially mother of your blood, Life Wielder. Come, we have been waiting."

You swallowed, unable to tear your gaze away. "Waiting for what?"

"To show. To tell. It is time. Pay the tithe and we will tell you a story."

"What kind of story?" Your voice was soft. You could hear Soap calling out for you, beginning to move towards you.

"The story of a boy who was gifted all but wanted more."

Before Soap could reach you, before he could talk you out of anything, you pressed your fingers into your palm. The cut from earlier opened easily, and you thrusted your hand out to the statue of Anail, red splashing on the dark stone. Anail's eyes glowed a vibrant green. The color consumed you. You had the vaguest sense of your body falling, landing in Soap's arms. He was calling for you, but you were floating away.

-   -   -

Once upon a time, there lived a young boy born to an ordinary family, in an ordinary village. Ordinary he was, but he was fiercely loved by everyone. This included the Gods, who watched him with great fondness each time he joined his parents at temple, offering lamb's blood in return for blessings. These blessings came in the form of runes: symbols that could hold great power, though a price was always demanded.

The villagers were happy, receiving marks to heal their sheep, to keep the soil fertile, to keep out the chill of winter. It was no power like that of their Fae neighbors, but it was enough to keep them happy.

But the boy grew jealous as he aged. His mother grew sick and perished, and not even the healing runes gifted by Anail could keep her from Crioch's clutches. Angry, the boy charged into the temple, spilling his blood at Crioch's feet.

"Why did you take her?!" he demanded, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I claim everyone, child," hissed a clipped, hollow voice. "Life requires balance."

"You do not claim the lives of Fae so early!" he nearly screamed. "Why do you favor them so?! Have I not done enough? Have I not offered blood, bone, and meat?! Will you too claim my life before I have had the chance to become great?"

There was a long silence. You see, this boy was beloved of the Gods. The Gods, despite themselves, loved the boy. He had a light within him that no one could extinguish. And the sorrow filling his heart made the Gods ache. They did not wish to see him suffer so.

There was a cacophony of whispers before the Gods responded as one. "We will give you the gift of life, child. Long life. The price, however, is great. Magic demands sacrifice."

"I will pay it!" he declared, chest heaving. "Any price, I will give!"

"We require one lifespan in exchange for yours. For every life you slay, this rune will grant you their remaining years. But be wary; for each life taken, so shall part of your soul be."

His tears dried. "I understand. Thank you! Thank you!" He bowed many times, the knowledge of this new rune settled into his brain.

The rune, however powerful, felt a heavy burden. The boy could not bring himself to end a life in exchange for more to his own. So he kept the knowledge to himself, until he came to the temple of the Gods again. He poured his bowl of lamb's blood at the feet of Eolas, frowning as he sat before the Godde of knowledge.

While the boy was far too afraid to use the rune of life, he grew hungry for power. He grew from a boy to a man, and regularly came to the Gods, asking for more and more runes. He asked Eolas for a rune to erase knowledge. He asked Ceathdagh how to change his appearance. He asked Baidhe for ensured victory on the battlefield. He asked Anail for the gift of light, a magic none of the Fae could wield.

The Gods were not perfect. They should have known better. But the boy was charming. He assured the Gods, time and time again, that all he wanted was prosperity for his people. He wanted to even out the playing field between man and Fae. The Gods loved him so much that they could not see his deceit until it was too late.

When he was in his fortieth year, he used the rune of life for the first time. It revitalized him, and he felt powerful. He left a generous offering to Crioch in thanks, and began using the other runes he was gifted more and more.

The Gods did not see the boy in their temple for a long time. But they continued to watch. Watch, as the boy destroyed neighboring villages. He slaughtered innocent people of all ages and species, wielding the light Anail gifted him. He changed his appearance, elongating his ears to a tapered point, making himself taller, altering him to the point where not even his own family recognized him anymore.

The boy who had always been jealous of the Fae made himself into one. Better than that, he made himself King in a land that did not know him, did not know his Gods. Every few hundred years, he would announce to his kingdom that the king had died, replaced by a son no one had seen but surely knew existed. All it took was a well-placed rune of forgetting, granted by Eolas themself. These people had no knowledge of runes, and they could not protect themselves from this false king.

The power changed him into a monster. There was nothing left of the boy the Gods loved so dearly. The boy forgot them, left them behind. He made himself King, but the Gods still remembered him. They remembered his true name.

Phillip Graves.

-   -   -

You came back to your surroundings with a gasp. Soap had you clutched in his arms, ocean eyes reflecting with tears as he held onto you.

"Princess," he nearly whimpered with relief, holding you to his chest, petting your messy hair and murmuring into your hair.

But you couldn't bring yourself to reassure him. You stared in horror at the eyes of Anail. "Why?" you whispered, voice hoarse. "Why did you give him that much power?"

"We were foolish," hissed another feminine voice that wasn't Anail--Baidhe. "Blinded by love for our creations. Not even we are perfect."

"We waited," continued a deep male voice. "We planted the seeds of balance many times."

Soap's eyes were wide, his head whipping around. You realized the Gods must be speaking so he could hear, too.

"I gave your mother the Sight," a smooth voice, neither male nor female sounded.

"And I gave her a child of balance," said Anail.

"We showed her what that foolish boy would do if she did not seek the highlands out," the rasping voice came.

"We knew you would find us for answers." Eolas. "The False King has thwarted every attempt of ours to stop him."

"He knows we are waiting. That we are plotting. He hides in his marble castle." Baidhe's voice was full of rage. "You must stop him, Lunelle Travan."

You wanted to scream. "Why? Why me?"

Anail's voice was soft, comforting. "Because you are strong. You see clearly. You are not alone. You have everything he does not. Everything he envies."

"What if I can't do it?" you whispered, now holding onto Soap just as tightly as he held you. "What if I fail? My magic hasn't even come back yet."

"It will. Soon," Eolas promised. "You have more than earth magic, child."

"You have the gift of life," Anail whispered.

"And death," came Crioch's crackly voice. "When the time comes, you will know how to end the False King. We have given you everything you need."

Tears of frustration and anger stung your eyes. "You've given me nothing!" 

"Leave," boomed Ceathdhag suddenly, urgency straining his baritone. "Child, you and your companion must leave. It comes. It hunts."

"Leave!" came all their voices combined, throwing you and Soap back towards the entrance.

"What comes?!" you demanded, but the whispers had stopped. Soap swore as he got up, pulling you to your feet. Only then did you hear it--a low rumble, followed by a staccato of clicking sounds.

From the other side of the domed cave, you saw an inky beast emerge, its eyes glowing red, claws tapping against the stone floor. The beast's purple-hued lips pulled back over its gums, long teeth yellow and dripping. A forked tongue lolled out of its gaping maw, nostrils twitching as it scented you.

Oh fuck.

"Run."

Chapter Text

You scrambled to get up, to make your way back down the long corridor that lead to the cave's entrance. You really didn't like the idea of putting yourself in a space with only one way out should the beast fit through the tight space, but you had no choice.

The beast's growl reverberated off the cave walls, its greasy black fur standing on end as its hackles rose.

"Soap, what the ever-loving fuck is that?!" You scrambled to get your hands around one of your knives for now, sprinting for the corridor.

"Bloody worg is what it is!" he called back frantically.

You almost made it to the entrance when another snarl sounded, this time far too close. The beast was at your back, and with a snap of its jaws it pinched the hood of your cloak between its teeth, dragging you back, towards the other side of the domed room where it came from.

"Princess!" Soap called out, gritting his teeth as he went after you.

You thrashed in the worg's hold, reaching up with your dagger to try to swipe at its muzzle, but all you met was air. Instead you brought the blade to where the cloak connected at your throat, the fabric straining and choking you. Deciding it was worth the risk of nicking yourself, you tore through the fabric in one swipe, gasping as you tumbled free of the beast.

The worg spat your cloak out a second later as he realized his prey escaped, and you had to roll into a crouch, grip tightening on the hilt of your knife.

"Fight," urged Baidhe's voice in your ear. "You will not escape otherwise."

You had a sinking feeling she was right. "Soap, can you flank it?" you called, eyes on the predator as it prowled before you, back hunched at an impossible arch, head hanging low.

He swore, then said, "Aye. Distract it, lass."

Despite yourself, you grinned. "I can do that."

Deciding it was best to take the offense than wait for the worg to strike, you dropped the knife and instead drew your sword. With a cry, you lifted the blade, muscles warming as you brought it down over the thing's thick neck. It dodged though, movements impossibly swift. You were fast too, and your blade grazed the worg's leathery hide, drawing dark, viscous blood. The smell of rot and decay hit you, making you wrinkle your nose as you turned, ready to land another blow.

The beast jumped back half a step, then used its long reach to swipe out at you with its claws. It tore through your sleeve, drawing blood. You hissed, but the pain wasn't anything you couldn't ignore. You lowered your weight, prowling, sword at the ready as you narrowed your eyes in on the monster. It snapped its jaws, talons scraping against the stone floor.

You spotted Soap sneaking behind the beast, his broad sword gripped low, ready to attack at the opportune moment. The worg's muscles tensed, bunching up under its leathery skin before it leaped for you, maw opening wide. You changed your sword grip to plunge it through whatever part of the worg met you first, but before it could reach you, it suddenly turned its head. The damn thing was far more intelligent than it looked, spotting Soap lifting his sword, ready to pierce it into its body.

The swiftness of the beast's actions caught the hyena shifter off guard, and though the male was fast, the worg's jaws were faster, clamping down on Soap's leg. You swore you could feel the pain as clearly as the male, the burning of tooth meeting sinew, a stinging sensation cutting through it all like the beast's saliva held venom.

But wait. Did it?

Soap cried out as he fell, snarling with ferocity as he slashed and hacked at the worg's face. More of that pungent rotted smell surrounded you, and you fought back a gag as you yelled the shifter's name, charging forward with your sword.

The beast, unwilling to let go of its prey, didn't turn its head fast enough to stop you from bringing your blade up again, slicing down in an arc at its neck. The hide was thick though, and beheading anything took far more strength than it looked. You let out a growl of your own as you brought the sword down again and again, hacking away until its head fell from its body with a wet thunk, eyes open and forked tongue falling between the gaps in its teeth. The disgusting black ichor of its blood covered your face and neck, stinging with more than just its stench.

You ignored it as you hurried to Soap's side, eyes widening at the gore that was his right leg. The beast's teeth were long, though not very sharp from how mangled the flesh was. His skin and muscle were in ribbons, and you swore. You had been on enough battlefields to know that if he didn't get fixed soon, he might lose the leg. Fae healed fast, and that alone might be the only thing that allowed him to keep the limb.

"Soap," you called out, voice shaky as you tore at your tunic, then pulled a leather cord from your chest armor, not caring as it loosened around your torso. "Johnny, look at me."

The shifter's face was pale, brows pinched. "Come now lass, don' look at me like that," he chuckled out. "Looks worse than it feels."

"Liar," you snapped, using the leather cord to tie around his upper thigh, using all your strength to make it as tight as possible to prevent more blood loss. "That thing has venom in its saliva, doesn't it?"

He grunted at the tightness of the tourniquet, but it might be the only thing that could save him now. You didn't know how the venom of the worg worked, if it had any ability to stop his Fae healing. If it severed through his thigh, he could bleed out in moments. "How did ya know?"

"I thought I--" But you cut yourself off. No need saying you thought you felt it when he received the wound. That made no sense.

"Come on, I need to bind this as much as I can then drag you out of here," you grumbled, ripping more fabric from your clothes until your tunic was barely hanging onto you anymore. So much of his leg was mincemeat that you even had to use some of your undershirt, tearing the sleeves off and using them to tie around his leg as well.

"Yer gonna get cold," he complained, but his voice was weak. You glanced at his face and felt panic rise up as you noticed the sheen of sweat over his clammy skin.

"Fuck," you cursed, quickly sheathing your sword and then Soap's, strapping it to your back. "Come on Johnny, we're going to get you out of here."

"That's the first time," he mused, eyes rolling back.

"First time what?" you asked, grunting as you reached under his arms, hoisting his upper body up. Soap was far heavier than he looked, all the dense muscle on him putting a strain on you as you dragged him down the hall to the entrance.

"Tha' ya called me Johnny," he replied with a grin that was definitely mostly delirious.

"I'll call you Johnny as many times as you want if you just make it back to the estate," you promised, body screaming in protest as you pulled him, the entrance seeming impossibly far. You glared at the statues of the Gods in the domed room. Of course they offered no advice now.

Your muscles screamed as you yanked on Soap, but he let out a groan and you realized that his mangled leg might be dragging a bit too heavily on the ground. You should have put him on your cloak first, but you were in such a panic you couldn't think straight. His breathing was starting to become shallow, eyes fluttering. Frustration welling within you, you paused for a moment. There were other ways to carry people, much more effective ways than this. You needed to get him off the ground.

"You've done this before. You can do it," you told yourself. You had carried soldiers off the field before, though admittedly none as large as Soap. He was twice the size of a human man, but you were weren't about to let that stop you. You were strong. You could do this.

"Fuck," you whined as you moved before him. "This might hurt. I'm so sorry." You rolled him over onto his stomach, but he didn't make a noise. That couldn't be good. Placing your hands under his arms, you hoisted him up, stumbling back as you struggled to get him standing as much as you could. Soap wasn't nearly as tall as Konig or Ghost, but he still towered a head over you. Getting his feet under him was nearly impossible, and you struggled to get his midsection over your shoulder.

Your legs shook, a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion seeping through your bones. But you would not leave him. Getting Ghost in here wasn't an option without Soap's help. If he was right, the cave might produce something worse in retaliation. So you did your best to lift Soap over your shoulders with a cry, lungs struggling as you made yourself continue forward, one foot in front of the other.

"Almost there, almost there," you chanted, more for yourself than Soap, who was decidedly unconscious now.

Your struggle paid off, and as you made it to the stone doors, they swung inwards, watery light spilling in. You winced at the brightness, then nearly wept as you spotted Ghost, his pale eyes wide with shock as he took the state of you in.

Your tunic and underclothes were in tatters. Your hair was wild, standing on end in every direction and matted in dark ichor. The worg blood was splattered against your face, neck, and clothes, and you had Soap's blood soaked into your clothes as well. Your hands were stained pink with it, clothes already stiff with the dried blood.

"What the fuck happened?!" he barked, hurrying to you as soon as you made it past the gates. They slammed shut behind you with a thud, and you tried not to wince.

"Worg," you managed out, nearly collapsing as Ghost pulled Soap from you, easily shouldering the shifter. "It took him by surprise. He--he got bit. I think there's venom."

"There is," Ghost said, adjusting Soap on his shoulder as he hurried towards the stone steps. "Did you get bitten, Lunelle? Are you hurt?"

You shook your head. "N-no. It just swiped me with its claws. I feel fine. Johnny..." Your lower lip shook.

"We will get him back," he assured. "Come on. I cannot carry the both of you. You need to get yourself back to the horses. Can you do that for me, or do I need to come back for you?"

Ghost's voice was sharp, clipped. The voice of a commander, assessing the situation on a battlefield. It was familiar, settling into you in an oddly comforting way.

"No, sir," you responded automatically, despite the fact that you did, in fact, outrank him. It was habit. "I can make it."

Ghost didn't comment on the slip either. "Good. Now we need to hurry. As soon as we are up the steps, run. If you make it to Gaz first, tell him what happened and ready the horses."

"Okay," you breathed, thankful for the orders. "Okay."

And you did just that. As soon as you reached the top of the steps, you willed every last ounce of strength into your legs. You ignored the screaming exhaustion, the ache in your shoulder that felt like it was still bleeding. You worked your legs, pumping your arms in time as you charged forward, every stride taking you closer to Kyle. Ghost wasn't too far behind, but Soap's weight was slowing him down.

You made it to Kyle first by only about fifty paces, out of breath and nearly falling into his arms.

Kyle's chocolate eyes were wide. He opened his mouth, but before he could ask, you frantically told him to ready the horses. That Soap was hurt. Kyle, also slipping into battle mode, gave one sharp nod and immediately readied Ghost's horse for him, tying Soap's horse's reins to his own.

Ghost reached the two of you moments later, hoisting the unconscious hyena shifter onto his horse and swinging up behind him. Kyle turned to help you onto your horse, but you somehow managed to do it yourself, hoisting yourself up and swinging your leg over Quick Silver.

You all charged ahead, and you prayed to those foolish Gods in the temple that Soap would be alright.

The moments after arriving at the estate were a whirlwind.

Ghost yelled for a healer before dismounting, and multiple Fae rushed forward to take Soap, carrying him inside to an empty room. He was lowered onto a bed while a healer came, removing all the bindings you tied around his mauled leg.

The healer's hands glowed as he worked, and you vaguely recalled him telling you that the tourniquet kept him from losing too much blood. You nodded, thankful, before swaying on your feet. A soft gasp left you as your vision spotted before the entire room tilted, fading to black from the edges.

-   -   -

You woke up on a small bed fitted with simple white cotton sheets and a wool blanket. The room was warm, a fire dancing not too far away.

Your mouth felt dry, and you winced as you tried to sit up. Looking down at yourself, your bloody, tattered clothes and leather armor had been removed. You had on a shirt that closed at the front, though one of your arms was left out, exposing the wrapping around your shoulder and upper arm. The bandage was tinged green, and after a whiff you recognized the poultice. It was for pain and inflammation, likely bound with honey to stave off infection as well.

"You're awake," a voice breathed as the door swung open, revealing your mate. He carried a tray with a jug of water, and you wanted to kiss him. Wordlessly, you reached for him, and the water. Kyle quickly poured you a glass, and you downed it greedily, holding the glass out for more. Kyle refilled it, plush lips pulled down in a frown. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you croaked, voice hoarse. "I just had a scratch. What happened?"

"The healer said you likely passed out from exhaustion," the panther shifter explained, sitting on the edge of your bed and reaching out to stroke your hair, which had also been cleaned while you slept. You supposed no one could stand the reeking worg blood. "He did not have enough magic left to heal you after Soap."

Your heart squeezed. "Is Soap okay?" you asked, holding your breath.

Kyle nodded, smiling softly as he stroked your cheek. "Yes. The venom is not entirely out of his system, but after a few more visits from the healer, he should be alright. He will have to rest for a bit, which I imagine will be the most difficult for him."

You released your breath with a rush of relief. "I just...there was so much blood, Kyle." You swallowed hard, eyes stinging. "I was scared he'd lose his leg. That thing was awful."

He hummed, pouring you another glass of water. "Yes, worg are nasty creatures. The highlanders hunted them down, but a few still remain, hidden away. I guess it found a way into that cave and made it its den."

"Or it was planted there," you grumbled with a frown. 

"Perhaps." He leaned in to kiss your forehead. "You both gave us a scare. You looked absolutely wild, half your clothes torn to pieces and covered in blood. There was so much of it we did not realize you were injured until the healer inspected you. How did you get Soap out?"

"I carried him," you stated simply.

Kyle's brows shot up. "Carried? No wonder you collapsed." He smiled softly. "We are sworn to protect you, but it looks like you protected us, hm?"

"It goes both ways. You're all more than just my cadre, you know."  You forced yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the tug to your shoulder. You wondered if the healer gave you stitches. "I want to see him."

"Princess, I think you should--"

"That was not a request, Kyle." You gave him a look.

He sighed, but wrapped an arm around your waist to assist you into a sitting position. "Spoken like a queen."

Walking was fine. Your legs felt a bit like one of those Gods-awful suspended-meat-in-gelatin dishes they served at Theodric dinners, but otherwise all was well. Soap's room was next to yours, and your heart squeezed as you saw the male laying in bed, leg set above the quilt. His face had lost the pale sheen, but was instead redder than usual.

His leg looked much better than you had seen it last. The leg of his trouser was pulled up to his thigh, the skin taut and pink where it had been mended together by the healer. The veins still appeared a bit dark and angry beneath his pale skin, and you guessed that was the remaining venom coursing through his blood. Despite that, his chest rose and fell evenly, eyes fluttering through whatever dream danced past them.

"He looks better," you breathed with relief as you sank into the chair positioned next to his bed.

Kyle nodded. "The healer worked all night. The physical damage was not so difficult to repair, but worg venom is nasty. Sticky, not wanting to let go. The healer will return later, after he's had time to rest and recover his magic."

You wished those Gods had left you a rune to heal him, and frowned. "Kyle, the caves...I learned something very disturbing. But I want to wait until Soap wakes up to talk about it."

"I understand." He planted a kiss on the top of your head. "I will fetch some lunch. Be right back."

You hummed out your thanks, then sighed as you looked at Soap. He was a very large male, but in bed, injured and recovering, he almost appeared small. Vulnerable.

Reaching out, you gently slid your fingertips over his leg. The skin was smooth, pink and new. Your fingers glided over the dark veins and a shock of wrongness went through you. Kyle was right, there was a sort of sticky quality about it, like sludge. The beast's blood had certainly felt that way. Pressing your lips together, you pressed your hand just below his knee, feeling the pulsing energy of the venom. It felt right below your skin, like if you just reached for it...

Your hand began to warm. Soft light cascaded past your fingertips, and you stared in awe as you pulled your hand back slowly. As you moved your hand, the venom drew from his veins, gathering to your hand and lifting through his skin in dark, web-like strands. You finished pulling the venom, staring wide-eyed at the mass of black goo, wondering what the hell you were supposed to do now. You had never been able to do this before...whatever this was.

Blinking, you squeezed your hand, and the light around the mass of worg venom condensed. It cocooned the poison, and when you opened your hand, it was gone. The door squeaked on its hinges, and you looked up to see Kyle staring wide-eyed.

"How did you do that?" he asked in wonder, a tray of sandwiches and bowls of steaming soup in his hands. "Princess, you...you pulled the venom out. Not even the healer could do it all at once like that."

You shook your head. "I don't...I don't know. I just felt like I could draw it out, and then it just...did." You frowned at your hands, once more feeling as if they were strangers to you.

Before you could ponder further, Soap grunted. Turning to him, you saw the red flush had calmed down a bit. His eyes fluttered, and moments later a sleepy grin stretched his lips. "Are ya playin' sexy nursemaid for me, lass? I should get injured more often."

You blinked, then let out a laugh, wincing as the action tugged at your shoulder. "You scared the shit out of me, Johnny."

His smile spread wider, a quiet chuckle leaving him. "I've had worse."

"He's right," Kyle agreed, setting the tray down. "How are you feeling?"

"Bit like I've been dragged through a cave," he joked. "Don' suppose ya know why that is, princess?"

You wanted to smack him. "I saved you! I didn't have much of a choice!"

"Only jokin'," he assured, laughing again, the sound a bit stronger now. He reached for your hand, and you gladly laced your fingers together, the roughness of his callouses assuring you that he was alive, alive, alive. "Ya tell Gaz what happened?"

"Not yet." You shook your head. "It can wait until you're feeling better."

He made a noise. "Well, I suppose this is a good time as any to tell you somethin' else I learned in the cave. I cannae keep it to myself any longer."

You blinked. "Which is?"

Soap's deep blue eyes settled on you, and the twinkle you saw there put your heart at ease. "We're mates, princess. Felt it the moment ye collapsed in me arms."

You weren't sure how many more surprises your heart would be able to take.

Chapter Text

The healer visited Soap later, confirming that you did, in fact, draw the remaining venom from his veins. You had no idea how, but the healer merely shrugged and said healing was often a secondary gift to many Fae. It could vary in how powerful it was, but possessing such a gift did not appear surprising.

Part of you guessed it had to do with your magic slowly breaking free of its seal, but another part of you couldn't help but remember Anail's whispered promise of the gift of life. If this was what she meant, you had no clue. The Gods were about as helpful as the matriarch. You decided they were definitely in cahoots, probably taking notes from one another on how to be infuriating.

Soap being your mate, however, was not surprising at all. You thought you felt his injury, something common among mated pairs, depending on the severity of the wound. It did make things uncomfortable when they told Ghost, the wraith standing with his muscled arms crossed.

You had mated to every member of the cadre...except Ghost. There was an air of expectation, but it felt so awkward you immediately tried to move on to the story the Gods showed you. You had given up wondering why the Gods decided to mate you to the cadre, knowing it was anything but coincidental.

So you told all of them about the boy who had everything but still demanded more, who grew so jealous of the Fae that he made himself into the best imitation he could.

"So the Theodric King..." Kyle started, "is from the highlands?"

You frowned. "I'm not actually sure. It felt farther. The temple he worshipped in wasn't by the sea. Maybe across the mountains. He destroyed his village's temple just before he rose to power."

"Does anyone know the king's name?" Ghost asked.

You shook your head. "No. We're told it's sacred, something only meant for the Gods to speak."

Soap made a noise. "I'm sure it made usin' that rune of forgettin' a hell of a lot easier, eh?"

"Looks like it," you agreed with a sigh. "If he has command of runes...I don't know how they expect me to defeat him."

"What did they say to you?" Kyle asked.

"That they gave me everything I need," you responded with a groan, leaning into Soap's chest. He was still in bed, though he had insisted quite strongly that you sit next to him. He was warm, and the reassurance that he was okay, that he was breathing and sitting next to you and cracking jokes provided much needed comfort.

"Maybe because your mother designed your magic seal to break when you were ready? So the powers they might have gifted you are all you need?" Kyle guessed.

You shrugged. None of you had any clue. The more answers you got the more questions they raised.

"And still no ideas on the killer?" Ghost inquired.

"None," you said with a sigh. "Though...knowing that the Theodric king is well-versed in runes, it makes me believe they have no connection to him whatsoever. If the king knew about these powers I'm supposed to grow into, wouldn't he just put a permanent seal on me? Come kill me himself? I think whoever is killing people is copying it. I don't know where from, but they're by no means some ancient King masquerading as Fae."

"Ye 'ave a point," Soap agreed, rubbing a hand down your arm. "His Majesty might have more ideas."

The reminder that you were all still planning on leaving tomorrow made you frown. The healer, no longer needed to attend to Soap, had fixed up your shoulder, though it remained a touch sore. You insisted that Soap should rest for a few more days, but he cited the sensitivity of time and information. As a compromise, you made him promise to hop in the carriage whenever his leg started bothering him. He agreed with a roll of his eyes, but it was the best you'd get. At least you'd get to see John and Konig soon.

When it was lunch time, Ghost and Kyle exited the room. You moved to join them, planning on carrying your lunch into Soap's room to eat with him, but a hand on your arm held you back. Soap's eyes were swimming, and the emotion you saw made you stay behind, asking Kyle to get your food for you.

The panther shifter flashed an understanding smile, closing the door behind him. You sat by Soap, sliding your hand into his. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better," he replied with a giant grin. "But I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't scared shitless in that cave. Multiple times. When ye just collapsed all the sudden, I was terrified I got the rules wrong for enterin' with a guest. Then that damn worg." He flinched, as if remembering the feel of its teeth. "Nasty, clever devils. Should 'ave had my guard up. I'm sorry I let ye get hurt."

You blinked, then let out a humorless laugh. "Johnny, despite what all of you think, none of you are responsible for forces outside of your control hurting me. You're the one who took the brunt of the monster's damage. I'm the one who's sorry you got hurt. I should have distracted it better, maybe shouted to warn you when it started turning its head."

The hyena shifter shook his head once, squeezing your hand. "You're mine, princess. I protect what's mine. Ye understand?"

The earnest expression on his face and the serious set to his jaw made you soften. Soap so rarely showed this side of himself. You nodded, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before you even realized what you were doing. But if you were honest, you had wanted to kiss Soap for a long time. Likely since he pinned you to a mat for the first time.

The male gripped the back of your head when you began to pull away, keeping you close to him while he moved his lips in an urgent beat against your own. He was like a man in a desert finding an oasis, drinking you in deep like he may never get the chance to again. He finally let you go, pupils dilated. You smiled, cupping his jaw. The way his gaze was turned up towards you gave you incredibly unhelpful thoughts about tying his wrists to the headboard.

As if reading those thoughts, he let out a groan that was dangerously close to a whimper. "Damn this leg," he cursed, rubbing at the still-healing limb. "Else I'd take you right here."

"Kyle and Ghost will be back soon," you said, ears turning pink.

Soap shot you a smirk. "And? I bet they'd like to watch, princess."

The return of those very males saved you from a response.

-   -   -

As preparations to leave wrapped up, you made sure Quick Silver's blanket was secured around her body, not wanting your precious companion to feel the biting cold of the mountains you'd have to traverse back through.

Ghost and Kyle were murmuring in low voices, and Soap was still inside, getting one last healing session to make sure his leg was as strong as possible. There had been no damage to the bone, but even a healer couldn't return the shredded muscles to their original state.

Petting your horse's nose, you felt a sudden pulse that travelled from the ground to your bones. Shit. You had nearly forgotten about the message you sent your father.

Dropping your horse's reins, you hurried to the redwood tree still standing by the edge of the manor. You ignored the curious calls from Kyle, placing your hands on the tree and closing your eyes, searching for the energy that felt so deeply like your father. You found it, and his message came spilling across the roots, hidden in the usual maze of code to ensure no others could decipher it.

I am pleased beyond words that you are happy and well. I am sorry I could never tell you anything. Your mother said it was to protect you. The only advice I can offer is to look within for answers. You carry your mother's heart with you. I love you.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to pull this ridiculously huge tree from the earth and hurl it at something. It had been months since you heard from your father, and receiving the message alone made you want to cry. But the utter unhelpfulness of it made you want to yell in his face, something you'd never had the urge to do before. He was your father, but also your general. You never questioned his authority.

"Can I get one straightforward answer?!" you screamed into the sky, threading your fingers into your hair and tugging at the root, hoping the prick of pain would loosen the tightness in your chest. It didn't, and you growled as you palmed one of your knives. Stabbing something felt like it would help.

"Oi, lass, what's happened?" Soap called as he strode to you, only the slightest hint of a limp left in his left leg.

"My father," you ground out. "Was not the well of information I had hoped."

"Ah." He rubbed your back, eyes falling to your hand on a dagger. He lifted a brow. "Would ye like to fight it out or fuck it out, princess?"

His words sent a rush of heat through you. "You're in no shape to do either. We're about to leave."

"Aye, but yer foul temper won' help anyone. It doesn't have to be me, lass. Ye want to fight or fuck?"

"Is both an option?" you nearly whimpered.

Soap let out a whoop of laughter. He put a hand on your lower back and lead you to the carriage and horses again. "Ghost, ye mind lettin' the princess let off some steam? Daddy dearest wasn't very helpful."

Kyle and Ghost stared at the two of you. Soap, with his cocky grin. And you, with a chagrinned expression.

"I can--" Kyle started off, but Soap held a hand to stop him.

"Gaz, lad, ye won' give her what she needs. Ye will hold back. She doesn't need that right now."

"She's still hurt," he argued with a frown.

"I'm fine, the healer fixed me up," you protested. "The scratch wasn't even that deep. It's up to Ghost." You crossed your arms, staring at the male.

His silver eyes studied you. He appeared to hesitate, so you sighed. "Konig would do it."

Those eyes narrowed, and you knew you won. "Fine. You want to let off steam? Let's go." He shrugged off his cloak, then disarmed himself. When he caught your frown, he cocked his head. "I do not feel like leaving with any stab wounds. Disarm."

"I wouldn't!"

Soap shook his head. "He's right, princess. Ye look stabby."

Relenting, you discarded your blades quickly, then followed Ghost a few paces away into a clearing. Luckily, it was early enough that the villagers weren't out and about yet, and you were glad they wouldn't witness Ghost inevitably hand your ass to you.

"Let's get this over with, then," Ghost sighed out with infinite patience.

That alone set you on edge, like he didn't even consider you could be a threat. But you were trained by General Travan, and you could hold your own in a fight. Pulling your lips from your teeth, you made the first move, swiping for the wraith. He dodged it easily though, grabbing your arm and beginning to twist. Wanting to avoid the arm lock, you kicked out at his opposite leg, and it was enough to loosen his hold enough for you to twist out. You landed an elbow to his stomach while you were at it, making him grunt at the force.

Ghost instead wrapped an arm around your upper shoulders. Your training with Soap kicked in, and you immediately bucked, attempting to throw him over your back. He was heavy though, and very large, so this proved difficult. Usually you just needed to get your opponent's body weight off center with your own, but Ghost was so damned tall it wasn't working. So you instead slammed your foot down on top of his, slipping from his grip.

Your dance continued for a while. Ghost never moved to hit you, only to grab or pin. Each time you figured a way out, until you both ended up on the snowy ground. Ghost had you in a firm pin, one Soap had put you in before as well. The only way to get out of it--besides playing dirty--was to counter his bodyweight. But, as you had learned earlier, it was impossible. But still you tried, trashing and lifting yourself up with your legs, trying to push back to throw him off.

"Yield," came his silky voice. Bastard wasn't even out of breath.

"No!" you snarled.

"Yield," he repeated more firmly. "Or are you still angry?"

"Of course I'm angry!" you screamed, voice piercing through the cold morning air. "I've never had control of my life! Never! And just when I get here, when I start to feel happy, literal Gods tell me they have plans! It's always others deciding what I do!"

Sudden warmth on your face shocked you, and after a moment you realized they were tears. Hot, angry streaks that ran down your pink wind-kissed cheeks. The fight left you, and Ghost sensed it, releasing you. He frowned at you, kneeling on his knees beside you in the snow. You let your body relax on the ground, not minding the bite of the cold or the way snow was melting into your loose hair.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Ghost's voice was cold, harsh.

"Ghost," Kyle admonished from the side, though he didn't come closer. Nor did Soap, your two mates sensing this was a conversation you needed.

"No, she needs to figure this out," he snapped. "What will you do, Your Majesty? You can ignore the Gods. Ignore the killings. Live in peace in the castle. Is that what you want?"

His words struck you, and as you stared at the white-gray sky above you, you loosened a slow breath. What did you want? Did you want to live in ignorant bliss within the castle? That would make you no better than any other Fae nobility. You sniffed, tears still leaking from the corners of your eyes, though they were slowing down. What you wanted was a better world. A world where humans weren't crushed beneath power, where lesser Fae and half-bloods like yourself could live peacefully. A world where people could speak their own languages, worship their own Gods. You just wanted it to be your choice to fix those things, not some Gods-given prophecy from before you were conceived.

"No," you whispered. "That's not what I want. I just want to choose."

"Then choose this path."

It sounded so simple when he put it like that. Like you could just choose to somehow overthrow the Theodric King. Prophecies were never decided futures, always subject to change. Your victory wasn't guaranteed by fate, but by you. You could choose to train, to fight. To discover what powers lie locked beneath the surface. You would choose this destiny not because the Gods wanted you to, but because you believed in a better world. Wasn't that what you wanted to do as queen this whole time?

You turned your head, blinking through wet lashes at the wraith. He was staring at you, and for a second you thought you saw something churning and tumultuous in his eyes, but it was gone in a second, shuttering to his usual cool expression. "You have made your choice, then?"

"Yes."

-   -   -

The journey home was just as cold and miserable as the journey to the highlands. The rolling hills gave way to the narrow mountain passes, and you couldn't help but feel on-edge, worried your party would encounter another "robbery".

Dinner was eaten around a fire, meat pies and honey-soaked buns courtesy of the highlanders who tried to shove so much food on your party that you were worried the horses would collapse from the weight. The matriarch sent you off with a small care package of highland-forged blades for your cadre, though feeling at the sack you realized there was a book nestled in among the wrapped blades.

Now, around the fire, you pulled the volume from its confines, eyes widening. It was a book of runes. Kyle did a double-take as he glanced at the book, brows shooting up. "Even after all those insults you hurled her way."

"She must be used to it," you responded, though you felt thankful. A note was attached inside the cover, the matriarch's scroll looping and beautiful.

I hope you put this to good use. Perhaps the time of keeping secrets has come to an end.

Good luck, Your Highness. You carry your mother's heart with you.

The note made you smile, but your eyes snagged on that last phrase. You carry your mother's heart with you.

It was something your father had said since you were a girl. You always took it as comfort, as him saying you had her spirit. How did the matriarch know it? Had the Gods whispered it to her, knowing it would bring you comfort? Or did it mean something else?

You chewed on one of those delicious honey buns, frowning at the page as you turned over the phrase. Your mother's heart. Were you merely overthinking?

You sucked on your fingers, cleaning the sticky honey from them. You heard a grunt, and caught three pairs of eyes on you, though a gray pair escaped your scrutiny quickly. Your two mates had their eyes unabashedly on your mouth, where you currently held one digit still, tongue working the sweet substance off your skin.

"Pervs," you grumbled, pulling your fingers from your mouth and wiping them on your pants instead.

Kyle cleared his throat, though his tone was still a bit thick. "What, erm, are you frowning at over there?"

Staring at the line again, you shook your head. "Nothing. The hag left me a sweet note. I'm trying to find other motivations behind it is all." You smiled at him. It was either nothing, or it would add yet another question you didn't have answers to.

You poured over the runes by the firelight until your eyes crossed, and eventually Kyle plucked the book from your hands, saying you needed to sleep. Your tents were already erected, and you were exhausted, but a buzzing urgency had wrapped itself around your bones.

"Does this mean I get to sleep with the princess?" Soap asked brightly, features lighting up.

"And subject her to your snoring?" Ghost's smooth voice responded as he packed up one of the bags.

Kyle's expression was wary. "I think it would be best for me to sleep with her for now, Johnny. Sorry. She shakes like a leaf from the cold."

Soap pouted, but Kyle was right; you needed his warmth. "Once we're back to the castle you can join the rotation," you joked, placing a kiss on the shifter's cold cheek. "Konig's going to be a bit peeved. He likes Kyle, but..." You grinned at Soap.

The shifter rolled his eyes. "The pup cannae do anything about it now. You're mine."

"Goodnight, Johnny," you called before slipping into your tent.

Once more you curled your body around Kyle's, the panther shifter always delightfully warm. His long fingers tangled through your hair, stroking slowly, his fingertips on your scalp sending shivers down your spine. You let out a soft half-sigh half-mewl, and he stiffened against you.

"Turn around," he murmured. You blinked, but obeyed, twisting so your back was pressed to his chest. The male's lips brushed over the shell of your ear, and you shivered again. He started long strokes down your arm, slowly migrating to your waist. You held still as his warm hands slipped under your wool shirt, pressing to your stomach. They slipped up and up, until he found one of your breasts, palming it.

You let out a breath, and the shifter hummed. "If you want me to stop, just say the word."

"Keep going," you said instead. You weren't lying to Soap when you said you needed to both fuck and fight out your complex feelings. A release was exactly what you wanted. To encourage your mate, you wiggled your hips, grinning in satisfaction as you felt him thicken against your ass.

"Then you better keep quiet," he murmured. This side of him was different to the one you saw in the highlands. You supposed Kyle, like yourself, could move between dominance and submission, and you were happy to go along with either.

His fingers rolled your nipple, pinching it harsh enough that you had to bite your tongue to keep your groan in. He rocked his hips against you, giving your other nipple the same treatment. Sliding his other arm underneath you, he replaced his right hand with his left, his free arm now perusing down your body to the tied waistband of your wool leggings. His fingers tugged at the linen cord, and then his hand was inside, seeking the warmth between your legs.

Your breath caught as you lifted your leg just a bit, allowing him better access. His digits parted your folds, a huff of air hitting your neck as he felt how wet you were already. His plush lips pressed to your neck, a day's worth of stubble scratching against the sensitive skin. "What's this, love?" he murmured quietly. "Already soaked for me? Did you like me grinding against you that much? The feel of my hands on your skin?"

Your entire body shuddered once more, having absolutely nothing to do with the cold. "Yes," you replied, reaching an arm back to put your hand to the nape of his neck, keeping his lips close to your neck.

He circled your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, making tight circles that had you winding up, your lower lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet. Your mate hummed in satisfaction before pushing his hand down and sliding two long fingers easily into your soaked entrance. He hissed through his teeth, pressing inside of you.

"Kyle," you gasped, and he answered with a breathy noise of his own. "Kyle, please."

"Shhh," he shushed you gently. "You will get my cock soon, love. Just want to make sure you are nice and ready for me. You like my fingers, yes? Like when they do this?" He curled his fingers, perfectly hitting the sensitive nerves inside of you that had your hips bucking. The dark chuckle he released only made you clamp down on his fingers. "Thought so. There you go, love, fuck my fingers."

Before you realized, your body was grinding on Kyle's hand, swiveling back and forth to keep his fingers hitting that delicious spot inside of you. Each time your hips canted back they met Kyle's hard length, and you nearly sobbed. "Kyle, if you don't fuck me I might stab you."

Kyle let out a quiet huff of laughter. "You are quite demanding.  Not in the mood to play I see."

"Tease me when we're home. Right now I need release."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he cooed, pulling his fingers out of you and lifting them to his mouth to clean the digits of your fluids. He lifted himself up in the tight confines of the tent, pulling away the thin but warm blankets that shielded you from the cold.  You shuddered, skin pebbling. But Kyle leaned his body over yours moments later, his usual body heat keeping the worst of the cold away.

Ducking his head, the shifter tugged your shirt up and attached his plush lips to one of your nipples while he worked on freeing his cock from his own wool pants. His hand worked over his shaft, pumping himself as he tugged your pants down to your ankles. He lifted up slightly once more, grabbing his cock at the base and sliding it along your folds. Your hips jerked, and he smirked, pretty smile flashing in the dark.

"Keep quiet, okay love?" he murmured. "Ghost and Soap are too close for a sound ward."

You pressed your lips together as his cock pushed into you, letting out a sigh once you were full. Gods, this really was what you needed.

"We both need rest so we will make this quick, alright?" he continued as he rolled his hips, allowing you to adjust to the delicious stretch of your pussy on his cock. "When we are home, I will take my sweet time." He grabbed your legs and pushed them back. You wrapped your arms around your calves to hold them there, eyes rolling back at how much farther his cock could reach into you at this angle.

His eyes flashed amber in the dark, and his hips began driving into you at a relenting pace. You gasped, but Kyle's hand quickly pressed over your mouth to stifle the noise. His teeth were gritted and bared, reminding you for the first time what lurked beneath his skin. You were grateful for the hand on your mouth, because your noises were still ripping past your resolve in staccato whimpers. Kyle's cock had a slight upward curve that was hitting your sweet spot perfectly each time he pushed in and out of you, building the pleasure burning through your veins.

"That's it," he cooed softly. "Take it, love. You are doing so well, princess. Your pussy is so tight on my cock, it's so perfect."

Noises were still making their way out of Kyle's hand though, so he pulled back for a second. "My love, can I choke you? I need you to keep quiet, and the hand is not working."

"Yes," you responded, desperate for release. "Yes, choke me, just please, Kyle. Please make me cum."

You earned another dark grin, and he leaned in to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your parted lips before his long fingers wrapped around the column of your throat. He applied pressure, careful not to crush your windpipe as he pounded into you.

The hand on your throat proved effective, the lightheadedness driving you higher and higher into the night sky while the lack of air prevented any noises from escaping you past choked gasps. You gripped Kyle's wrist to keep yourself grounded, too far gone to even notice him murmur that he was going to cum.

Your body was knotted in pleasure and warmth and golden eyes until all at once you unraveled. Stars burst behind your eyes as Kyle released his hold on your neck. Air filled your lungs, only adding to the euphoria of your orgasm. Kyle was still pushing into you in short, small strokes, face beautifully contorted in pleasure. His lower lip was caught between his teeth, and you reached for him immediately.

Kyle pressed your lips together, murmuring soft praises against your skin as he wrapped himself around you. He kept his cock, still half-hard, inside of you as he cuddled up to you, spooning you from behind. You fell asleep that way, still connected.

You slept so well that you didn't even hear Ghost griping to Soap about how he could smell his arousal, the wraith removing himself to sleep by the fire instead.

Chapter Text

The more you read through the book of runes, the less sure you were about Soap's theory connecting "king" and "fire" to John and Kyle.

Were that the case, surely the other runes would be related to Konig and Soap. The more you looked at it, comparing notes to the book, the more you wondered if it was simply related to the prophecy. King could be the Theodric king. Life could represent Anail. Fire could even be for Ceathdag. You had yet to come across the other symbols around your seal, taking your time with the book. It was written in Old Alextren, something you now had an uncanny talent for. Perhaps it was Eolas, or perhaps there had been a rune of knowledge in the book that activated to grant the reader the ability to decipher its contents.

There were all sorts of runes. The glyphs held power, yes, but they also acted as their own language. Sometimes a single rune could hold all the power you needed, and sometimes you had to combine them to do what you needed. There was a rune for healing, but it could be altered with runes for certain animals, or added with elemental runes like water to save someone from fluid in their lungs, or fire to heal burns faster. It was confusing and incredibly fascinating.

There were proper ways to combine the runes, figurations they required to work. But Kyle's analogy to a painting had been correct for the most part. Runes were most often used as a way to tell stories, with followers of the Gods only using their magic when needed. They required sacrifice, and most had been warned of the cost of taking too much. Eventually the magic would demand more than blood to obey.

If only the Theodric King had listened too.

"Princess, you need to eat," Kyle reminded you as he pushed open the window on your carriage. Riding Quick Silver for too long put a strain on your back that carried into your shoulders, so you had agreed to stay in the carriage for the rest of the day. It made it much easier to read, but you would be back at the castle late at night, everyone agreeing to push through instead of making camp.

"I ate," you responded, lifting your eyes from the dusty pages.

He tilted his head. "You had a roll and a cannister of tea. Here." He handed you a parchment-wrapped honey bun and another parcel of dried deer meat. "I am sure Alton will have something ready when we are back, but until then please try to eat in between pages."

"I'll try," you relented, pulling out one of the dried strips of meat and tearing into it with your teeth, the hit of black pepper cutting through your concentration enough for you to mark your place in the book and set it aside.

You opened the window on your carriage all the way, poking your head out and looking around at all the snow-kissed trees. The scent of pine settled your anxiety, a small smile lifting the corners of your lips. Soon you'd be home.

"You alright, love?" Kyle asked, a smile mirroring your own on his full lips.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about how once, I told Soap that I disliked the winter because it made me feel disconnected to my magic. Now I can't imagine how I ever did. There is so much life, it's just hushed to a whisper. I can feel the trees, the grass, everything just below the surface."

Perhaps you had never taken time to notice before how the dormant life of the trees settled beneath the earth. It seemed to hum to you now, soft and low like a lullaby. Magic danced just beneath the snow, as if you could reach out and...

Your hand stretched out of the open window, palm facing down towards the earth. The humming was growing louder, warming your bones as you twisted your hand, palm rotating upwards. Despite the moving carriage, a stalk shot from the ground and bent towards you. The carriage was slow-moving through the thick snow, so the sunflower that bloomed directly atop your palm didn't have to move far, seeking you out like the sun itself.

You blinked, and Kyle halted your carriage with a shout.

"What the bloody hell--" Soap started, turning his horse around to glance behind at you, his expression morphing into something between shock and amusement. "A flower, lass? Holding Gaz's hand make ya that happy?"

"I was not holding her hand," Kyle said with a shake of his head.

"I...I did that on my own," you said quietly. "Without touching anyone."

Ghost, who had been at the rear, came closer. "The seal is breaking. It should hardly surprise you. You will have ample time to explore your magic once we are home."

You were still marveling at the large, pretty bloom in your hand. How much more were you capable of?

"As happy as this news is, could you remove traces of the sunflower, Your Majesty?" Ghost's flat tone came again.

You frowned. Kyle did too, turning his head. "The sunflower is not harming anyone."

But then you realized the issue. "It would make it easy to track us." You sighed, pulling a knife from your belt to cut the bloom of the sunflower away, reaching a hand out to urge the plant back into the earth until it was like it never existed.

Kyle still looked unhappy, a line appearing between his brows. "The carriage and horses make us easy to track. We are not exactly being stealthy. Our movements are likely already known to any enemies who wish to know."

"It is proof that her magic is growing," Ghost said simply. "That is the issue, Gaz. Whoever out there is killing Fae, their goal is to keep the seal on her magic active. The flower is proof that it is not working. The killer may resort to more extreme methods to compensate."

Everyone was quiet. "He has a point," you agreed. "It's fine. It was just a flower, Kyle. Let's keep going, we're losing time."

You slid back into your carriage, shutting the window as the carriage lurched forward once more. 

-   -   -

The castle came into view late into the night, torches burning and awaiting your arrival. The first stop was the stables, where bleary-eyed servants took your horses and began unloading the luggage.

"It can wait until tomorrow," you insisted with a frown as you saw chests being lugged into the castle. "They've been fine outside up until now."

"Good luck gettin' them to stop," Soap snorted as he swung down from his horse, turning away so you wouldn't notice the flinch as the weight came down on his right leg, though you saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way he shifted his weight.

"Head inside," Kyle encouraged as he began loosening his bags from his horse, shouldering his belongings before handing the horse off to the stable boy. "His Majesty and Konig are probably waiting."

Excitement and warmth made your heart flutter. Thanking the servants, you headed past them towards the castle entrance. It was incredibly dark, the light of the torches only reaching so far as you treaded through the snow, hoping you wouldn't trip over your own feet in the dark. But the lit entrance came into view, as did two large figures. A grin stretched your cheeks, and you jogged the last bit of distance.

Bounding up the stairs, you began holding your arms out to receive either one of your mates when you slipped on a bit of ice on one of the steps. Yelping, you braced for impact, but a pair of strong hands caught your upper body. The ice beneath your boots melted as John held his hand out. The king so rarely used his water elemental gifts that you often forgot he had them.

The hands under your arms were so familiar you nearly melted, but instead you lifted your face to Konig and let out a chuckle. "Sorry, my legs are still a bit numb from the ride."

"No problem," he assured, hoisting you to your feet. He crushed you to his wide chest immediately, his long mask rough on your red cheek. "I've always got you, Luney."

You only pulled away after a long moment, turning and finding John's soft eyes, his arms outstretched. You walked into his embrace, sighing out happily. Your heart felt whole, as if the entire time you were away you hadn't been able to get in a full breath.

"How were the highlands, sweetheart?" John asked, facial hair tickling your forehead as he pressed his lips there, his hands stroking over your back.

"They were...a lot. I'm not sure how much information you got while we were gone, but so much happened. We have a lot of information to catch you up on."

"Ghost kept his missives short and vague, as directed," John responded. "But all that can wait until tomorrow, yes? I think we need to get you a nice hot bath and a familiar bed. How does that sound, my queen?"

"It sounds perfect."

Konig assured you and John he'd help unload everything, so John took you to your room, where a bath had already been drawn and was steaming in the cool night air. You quickly took your boots off by your door, not wanting to trek any snow or mud into the beautiful space, then began reaching for the ties holding your armor over your clothes. John's hands covered yours, halting your motions.

"Allow me." His sure fingers were quick to untie knots and loosen stays, pulling the thin leather armor from your body one piece at a time, being careful as he deposited your weapons belt atop a chair, laying your sword across the arms. Your over clothes were next, all simple and easy to take off with a tug or a loosened belt. The wool underlayers peeled off just as quick, leaving you in only thin cotton underthings.

"I missed you," John murmured into your neck as he slid one thin strip over your shoulder, his lips finding his mating mark. His eyes snagged on your new scar, then narrowed, but he must have decided the question could be saved for later. His tongue slid over your skin and you shivered, nipples hardening and showing through the shift. John's eyes marked the reaction, hands moving to the top of your chest to very slowly peel your shirt off, palms brushing the pebbled points. Once the material cleared your hips it fell to the ground, and John worked on the pant-like underwear you wore next, the fabric falling to mid-thigh and allowing you to wear trousers instead of skirts. As soon as he slid the fabric over your hips and the swell of your ass, it joined the rest of your clothing on the floor.

"I missed you too," you responded, eyes slipping shut as your king's warm hands traversed the expanse of your stomach, tracing the shape of your hips and the small dips they created against your sides. His hands moved backwards to cup your ass, fingers pressing into the flesh.

"In the tub, darling," he instructed, giving your ass a playful swat. You laughed but obeyed, heading into the bathroom to sink down into the hot water with a sigh. The water was so warm, the temperature difference to your winter-chilled skin almost feeling painful.

John sat behind you and took over the task of washing your hair, taking it down from the messy bun you had piled it into. He used a brush to work out the tangles, then poured water over the strands.

"Lucky me, having mates to wash my hair," you sighed out happily. When you saw the question in John's eyes, you grinned. "Kyle did it for me in the highlands."

"Ah. Kyle does enjoy taking care of others. It hardly surprises me. Did he take care of your other needs as well?" He tilted his head, working in lavender soap into your hair.

You bit your lower lip, eyes fluttering as you refused to meet John's gaze. He chuckled, one of his wet hands tapping your chin. "Eyes on me, Lunelle. Your silence is answer enough. After you have had time to rest, I shall revisit the question, and I will expect details."

Heat stained your cheeks. "You...you like hearing about how the others pleasure me, don't you John?"

He dipped his head. "Indeed I do. It fills me with great satisfaction knowing my wife's beautiful body is not going without being appreciated. I should like to see for myself sometime, if you are unopposed to the idea."

Gods, your body was tired, wrecked from the cold and days of hard travelling and emotional turmoil. Yet it had no problem growing aroused, excited at the thought of John's dark gaze watching one of your other mates pleasure you.

"Konig seemed...interested," you provided, lifting a hand as you scrubbed at your nails to get all the dirt from underneath them.

The king's lips quirked up at the corner. "He did grow rather excited when I brought it up. I suspect he would agree, should you ask. Though it will wait until you are entirely recovered. I expect to be told in great detail what the cause of those new scars on your beautiful skin was. As well as the reason Johnny now carries a slight limp."

"He'll be so disappointed you noticed." Your fingers found your new scars, the marks still pink but fading. "The reason is one and the same."

"It can wait until tomorrow," John assured. He finished rinsing your hair, tilting your head up so he could duck to kiss you. The male let out a soft hum. "My dear, I can smell your arousal. There is scarcely a hint of lavender left in this room. As much as I would adore making you cum on my tongue, I was not lying. You need to rest."

You wanted to whine, but you held back. It didn't stop your lips from pursing into a pout, though. "I'm never too tired for you."

John grinned, the sound of his laughter bouncing off the tile and surrounding you with warmth. "Oh, my darling, I have no doubt of that. I promise I will attend to your every desire tomorrow, but today I want you to be a good little girl and sleep. Can you do that for me?"

You swallowed back your complaints and nodded. John nodded in approval, reaching into the tub to help you stand, a fluffy towel finding its way around your shoulders soon after. "That's my good girl," he praised, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Come now, time for bed."

-   -   -

You slept in until noon the following day. John was no longer by your side when you awoke, but that was hardly surprising given the time. There was still a kingdom to run and all.

You pulled yourself from the warmth of your duvet, dressing in a simple gown you needed no assistance to get into. After running a brush through your hair, you left it loose and headed downstairs. Your first stop were the kitchens, where Alton welcomed you home with a wide smile that displayed his wiry, gray whiskers.

"Had a feeling you'd be up and up soon!" he called in his usual wobbly, happy tone. "Made some coffee and carrot muffins for you! Now be a dear and head over to the meeting room, yes yes! I'll have Saoirse bring things over in a hop!"

You smiled, walking to the hobgoblin and pressing a kiss to his dry cheek. He beamed, bat-like ears twitching as he shooed you from the kitchen. "Off you go, off you go!"

Laughing, you exited the kitchen and entered the meeting room, a smile still lingering on your face. Everyone else was already seated, and John and Soap were hunched over a map, fingers pointing to different spots. Everyone looked up when you walked in, and you were greeted mostly with smiles.

"Sorry I slept in," you apologized with a wrinkle of your nose as you sat in the chair next to John. "Someone should've woken me up."

"Ye needed the rest," Soap said with a shake of his head. "S'alright, we haven't started talkin' about our trip yet."

A knock sounded at the door, and you called to grant them entry. It was Saoirse, a tray in her hands. The smell of coffee made your mouth water, the human girl setting the tray in front of you with a smile. "Your breakfast, Your Majesty." She dipped a curtsy, and you thanked her as you went to work pouring in a healthy amount of milk from the small jug on the tray.

"Coffee? Alton really must have missed you," Kyle observed with a chuckle. "He only breaks out coffee for special occasions."

You grinned, stirring in a bit of sugar. "Is it hard to get in Alextre?"

"Yes, we have to import it from the southern kingdoms," Kyle confirmed. "Quite expensive. Is it more common in Theodric?"

You nodded. "In the castle, yes. The King has an entire sector of earth magic wielders--quite a few who are cousins of mine--whose main purpose is to grow exotic food for the nobility." You frowned. "Father used to complain. Said they should be utilized for the outer parts of the kingdom where people were starving. He would invite family over and try to talk about it, but uh..." You winced.

There was a moment of silence. "But?" John pressed gently.

Konig met your eyes, and you nodded once to give him permission, your teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek. Konig sighed, finishing the story. "One of them did try. She grew a community garden in the human slums, went back every few days to regrow what she could so more people could be fed. But then..." He paused.

You picked up. "Someone told the King. Or he found out somehow. Someone may have even ratted her out for some sort of reward. Either way, the King executed her and dumped her body on top of the crops she grew for them. Her name was Charlotte, but everyone called her Lottie. She was a good female."

"Your father's choice for leader is interesting," Ghost noted.

Konig's hands turned into fists. You frowned. Before any of the other males could tell him off for the remark, you held up a hand to silence them. "You think it's that easy, Ghost? To just run off to another kingdom? Do you think he would be better off abandoning his family, the land he loves, and rid the kingdom of one more good soul? He helps where he can, advocates where he can. He can't do that from a neighboring kingdom. He gives a voice to those suffering when he can. He never wanted to give up hope that Theodric can be better." You let out a ragged breath. "Next time you say something like that about my family, you'll find my knife in you," you warned.

The silence that followed was incredibly loud. Ghost turned away, regret flashing in his silver eyes. "I was out of line. Forgive me, Your Majesty."

"Yes you were," you agreed. "He hasn't given up on the people of Theodric, and neither will I." You turned towards John. "I learned of a prophecy in the highlands."

From there, you dove into the events of your trip, telling everyone everything, though you skipped over the matriarch's true form, feeling as though it was not your secret to share. You explained that the runes were a seal on your magic, and the Theodric King's knowledge of them, leading to your theory that the killer was unconnected.

Ghost, Soap, and Kyle filled in other parts. Soap's expression was anguished as he expressed the fear he felt as he saw you collapse in the Cave of Gods, the way he felt his mating bond snap into place only for the worg to come out moments later and attack.

"A worg attacked you?" Konig's eyes were wide.

You blinked. "You know about them? I'd never heard of them before."

"We have them in my home country," he explained. "Packs of them roamed about. Folk earned status by defeating one. Most died trying."

Interesting. Konig didn't speak of his homeland often. Even the way he pronounced "worg" was different, the "w" morphing into a "v" sound. 

"The lass killed it," Soap said with more than a hint of pride. "Hacked its head off, she did."

Konig's eyes shone with pride of his own. "Meine kleine Kriegerkönigin."

No one knew what any of that meant, and you had only heard Konig speak his mother tongue enough to recognize the word for "my". It sounded like a compliment though, and your chest puffed with pride as you bit into another perfectly moist carrot muffin, swatting at Soap's hand when he reached for one.

"So, to summarize so we are all on the same page," John said as he stood up fully, crossing his thick arms. "Lunelle is a part of a prophecy that foretells the downfall of the Theodric King?"

"Basically," Soap said with a shrug, still eyeing your plate of food.

You searched John's face for a reaction, but he appeared calm, thoughtful. Konig, beside you, was still in the way only Fae could be.

"You want this?" John asked quietly. "You would choose a fate that puts you in danger?"

Your stomach twisted. "I--yes. I choose this. But I would not endanger the lives of citizens of Alextre. I ask for no army, no war. I just want to make my home a safe place to live."

"It doesn't need to be you," Konig snapped suddenly. "Luney, even if suddenly you have all these earth gifts, you can't honestly think it's enough to defeat him, can you? If that's all it took, your father would have killed him decades ago. You're going to get yourself killed."

Tension suffocated the room.

"Konig, we don't even know about my powers yet, or what I can do with them. Besides, it might not even be my magic that takes him down. The Gods seemed to imply it would be a combination of things. Knowledge of the runes is part of that. Knowing his history was another."

"The Gods are obviously useless!" he said, voice rising. "They are literal Gods, and they did not have the power to stop him. They gave him that power in the first place! Don't you understand? They're sending you as a sacrifice! Even if you take him down, there's no way you'll come out alive. He's too powerful! You think the Alextre army is enough to take him on? Are you prepared to go against your father? Because I'm sure as hell not. I won't have you charging into Theodric with the assurance of a dead woman's prophecy only to lose you!"

Anger rose in you, so sharp you could taste bile. Your hands shook as you stood up, eyes trained on the male who was supposed to be your best friend. "That dead woman? She's my mother, Konig. Looks like you didn't take my threat to Ghost earlier very seriously." You reached under your skirt, pulling a dagger from your thigh holster.

Kyle's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but John gave him a hard look. You stalked towards Konig, then brought your dagger down on the table in front of him, the blade embedding itself well past the tip.

"Just because you think I am weak, it doesn't mean I am. I understand that you are worried, and I'm not stupid enough not to be worried, too. But you and I both know what makes my father so deadly on the battlefield, Konig. It's not just sheer strength or size--my father's an earth wielder, for fuck's sake. It's his strategy. Strategy he has taught the both of us. I will not charge into that cursed castle with no plan. I will train my magic, my fighting, every. Single. Day. I will think of every angle. I will memorize that Gods-damn book of runes, and I will explore every possible path. I will not be relying on the Gods for my victory. I will rely on myself, and my court." You turned your head to John, whose expression told you everything you needed to know: you had his full support.

"However, I cannot get through this without you," you continued, eyes casting downwards for a moment. "This is no small task, and I'm going to need every single one of you to help me be successful. I'm not stupid enough to think I can do it on my own. Even my mother knew that I wouldn't be ready until I was here with all of you. She knew I would need all of you by my side. I won't lie and say this mission is without risk. But I can't give up on them, Konig." Your voice cracked as you met his citrine gaze again. "I won't. I will do everything in my power to free my homeland from that False King. I'm going to be selfish and ask you to help, but if you still say no, I won't make you."

You took one of Konig's hands in yours, the wolf shifter lacking his usual black gloves. "Will you help me or not?"

More silence. Konig couldn't meet your eyes as he stood abruptly, nearly knocking you over. "I need air," he said instead, storming out of the meeting room.

Tears threatened to fill your eyes, but you clenched your jaw and took a deep breath to keep them back.

"He will come around," Kyle assured you softly. "He just needs some time to think. He's worried."

"He'd be foolish not to be," Ghost said, eyes pinned to the open door. "Though I thought mate loyalty ran deeper than that."

John sighed, running a hand over his face. "Konig has known Lunelle since they were younglings. He does not speak of his time before, but it would not be unreasonable to think his biological family met an unfortunate end. He does not wish to lose the only family he has left. It is understandable. Make no mistake, this will be no easy feat. We will have to be incredibly careful. But Lunelle was right. She is not alone." He met your gaze. "You have the full support of the Alextre kingdom. All of its resources are yours."

"Thank you," you breathed, slumping into your chair. "Do you think Konig hates me?"

"Impossible," Soap said, walking behind you and leaning down to smack a kiss on your cheek. "No one can hate a face this pretty. Give the pup space. He ken the way home."

You nodded, running your fingers through your hair. "Yeah. Assassinating a king is a big plan. I get it."

"Lucky for you, I have some experience slaughtering bigot kings," John assured with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

You prayed to whatever God or Gods were listening that they were right.

Chapter Text

Sleeping with Soap proved to be no easy feat. Clearly the male was not used to sleeping with someone else, because if his snoring wasn't keeping you awake, it was a limb flying into your face.

Falling asleep had been fine. Pleasant. He tucked you against his chest, kissed the top of your head, and you fell asleep in the safety of his embrace. The embrace, however, only lasted about an hour before he was rolling onto his back, limbs splayed out. You retreated to the edge of the bed, happy he wasn't any taller. If Konig had these sorts of sleeping habits, he'd push you out.

The thought of Konig sent a pang through your chest, and knowing the shifter was likely not home yet made you worry. In the end, you slipped out of bed and used the door connecting your room to John's, climbing in next to him.

The king was happy to welcome you, pulling you to him and petting your hair. "Johnny is a rough sleeper, hm?" he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

You got a few more hours of sleep there, and in the morning Soap looked so sheepish and apologetic you couldn't bring yourself to be upset with him.  "Is there a rune for peaceful sleep?" he asked hopefully. There was, but you didn't need him cutting himself every time he slept with you, so you told him you'd both get used to it.

Breakfast was calm, but the heaviness in your chest had yet to abate. Even Alton's walnut loaf soaked in melted butter couldn't seem to help your spirits. The hobgoblin promised cake later, and you managed a smile for him that sent him into happy titters as he made his way back to the kitchen.

Morning court proceeded without the wolf shifter, as did the beginning stages of planning your quest.

"For now, we need to train Her Majesty's gift," Kyle said thoughtfully. "We cannot know how much of an asset her magic will be until then."

"Plan around it for now," you said with a shake of your head. "The seal isn't broken yet, for whatever reason. I'll train what I can, but we shouldn't plan on my magic being the thing to take him down."

"Agreed," John said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Ghost, you will collect whatever intel you can. Information of any kind is valuable, but do concentrate on ways we will be able to infiltrate the castle. Numbers, rotations, locations, everything."

The wraith nodded, likely expecting the assignment since he was in charge of the kingdom's spy network.

"Soap, you will continue training Lunelle in both hand-to-hand combat and weapons," John continued. "You will also ensure our forces are ready. We cannot take the entire army without raising alarm, so you will be in charge of selecting a small guard to accompany us."

"Aye." Soap made notes.

"Kyle, you and I will both be in charge of Lunelle's magic training. I also would like for you to gather information on the king's history."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Kyle made a face, and you almost felt bad that he was always the one assigned to the books.

"I'll give any information I can about the castle, the court, and the guard," you supplied. "Things might have changed, so Ghost will have to confirm everything. I'll work on runes, too."

"Lovely." John glanced at a large map to one wall, scanning over the Theodric kingdom thoughtfully. "I cannot help but wonder why it is that he chose Theodric."

You looked at the map, too. "Well, the Gods mentioned that the people in Theodric had no knowledge of runes. Their Gods were different. It was easier to wield an unknown force against them."

John hummed thoughtfully. "I feel as if there was more to it. The climate is fair, the land fertile. It is also in a favorable location for trade with other kingdoms. Were the runes all he needed to make conquering the land so easy? Surely there was already Fae nobility before he got there."

You stood, hands sliding along the back of your chair. Something nagged at you, something your father had taught you, but it escaped you. So instead you shrugged. "He likely slaughtered them, then used the rune of forgetting. I'm sure it was something that took time, amassing his power."

"We will get to the bottom of it," Kyle assured you.

-   -   -

A couple of hours after lunch, Ghost came into John's study where you sat making notes on the runes while John did his own work.

Your eyes slid over him once, but you did a double take as the iron-rich scent of blood hit your nose. Except...this wasn't Fae blood. Wasn't human, either. There was something deep to it, like wine. A touch sweet. You smelled it once before in a black market, sitting behind glass where a troll was selling...oh fuck.

John was frowning. He set his pen down and slowly rose to his feet. "Ghost, why are you covered in unicorn blood?"

The wraith's eyes looked half-wild. His chest was heaving, and if you looked closely, his hands were trembling, bunched into fists at his sides. "Because I found a dead unicorn, that's why."

You had feared as much, dread coiling in your stomach. Killing a unicorn was a crime for many reasons. The beasts were rare, but also incredibly pure. They had no natural enemies, and were said to grant a wish to any who beheld them, even rumored to be entirely sentient. They only presented themselves when they sensed someone in need. Killing them went against the laws of nature. It just wasn't right.

You swallowed, scared to ask the question but needing to. "How...was it killed?"

Ghost's eyes snapped to you, the silver of his eyes molten liquid. "You need to come see for yourself, Your Majesty."

You really, really didn't want to. You never had the pleasure of seeing a unicorn--past a jar of its blood--with your own eyes. Your experience was limited to stories and illustrations. Seeing one dead felt wrong. But if someone had killed it...you really needed to see for yourself.

John had a comforting hand on your lower back as you both followed Ghost outside. There was a wooden, hand-pulled cart sitting just off to the side, and you felt bile rise in your throat. From here you could see hints of its white, iridescent fur. Your father told you they looked like a rainbow in the sunlight, but its coat had been dulled with its demise. Purple-red blood coated its body, and as you drew close enough to see the beautiful animal clearly, you couldn't stop the sob that caught in your chest. You slammed a hand over your mouth, but tears slipped from your eyes, down your cheek.

The unicorn's mane and tail were both a lavender-blue hue, its horn long and twisted, a shade deeper blue than its hair. Its eyes, once full of luminosity, were a dull navy. The worst part of all was the gore slashed into its side.

The seal to your magic.

You couldn't take it anymore and ran a few paces away, heaving the contents of your stomach into a snow-covered bush. You fell to your knees, shaking. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

John was by your side, holding your hair out of your face and stroking your back, offering you a skin of water. You took it, swishing the water around your mouth and spitting it out, shuddering violently as your body attempted to heave again.

"Who would do something that awful?" you asked, heart breaking for the creature. "It's an abomination to kill a unicorn. My father said to kill one was to slay your very soul."

John nodded. "I have heard the same." He sighed, eyes drifting back over to the animal. "It would appear the killer has moved on from the blood of Fae to stronger means. I am afraid our killer is not only aware of your seal, but likely has an informant within the castle. They are doing everything possible to keep your magic from emerging."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you allowed sobs to wrack your body as you mourned for the unicorn. "Y-yeah. Okay. What do we do?"

John turned his head. "Ghost!"

The wraith approached slowly, his eyes pinned to you. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"You were correct. We have an information leak within the castle. Handle it."

He dipped his head, but he lingered. John tilted his head questioningly. Ghost's fist squeezed tighter. "Is she...alright?"

"Ask her yourself." John pulled back ever so slightly from you.

You rubbed at your swollen eyes, sniffling. "No, I'm not alright. Everyone knows it's wrong to kill a unicorn. And it was done because of me." Your lower lip wobbled, more tears threatening to spill. "It died because of me."

"It died because a maniac has an agenda," Ghost said, voice soft but firm. "Not through any fault of your own."

John nodded, helping you to your feet. "He is correct, darling. Do not take it to heart; it is not your fault. We will find the party responsible. I promise."

A branch snapped, and everyone's head turned to the clearing just beyond the courtyard, where Konig emerged from the trees. The wolf shifter stopped, eyes moving from you, to John, to Ghost, then to the dead unicorn.

His eyes widened with shock as he hurried forward. "Is that a--"

"Dead unicorn? Yes. Mind telling us where you have been up until now?" Ghost demanded, charging to meet Konig halfway across the clearing.

Konig lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "I was on a run. I needed to clear my head. I finally decided I would help, I'd join Luney, and--scheiße, you think I killed it?!" His shoulders stiffened. "Even I know better than to slaughter something as sacred as a unicorn!"

"You have been conveniently absent, and had plenty of time," Ghost continued, gaze roaming up and down the shifter's form. "Enough time to wash the blood off."

"You can't be fucking serious." Konig looked to you and John. "Please. Luney, you know me. I'd never."

You frowned. Konig was many things, but even he wouldn't cross that line. "Ghost, no. He didn't do it. He wouldn't. He has no reason to."

"No? Even if he believes it is to protect you?" the wraith countered, eyes narrowed into slits. He pushed at Konig's heavy chest. The shifter actually stepped back. "Sealing your magic would certainly prevent you from going to Theodric and killing the King."

Konig scoffed. "I just said I decided I would help! I know how much her magic means to her. I also know she'd try this crazy mission without any magic whatsoever! It wasn't me! You can trace my steps the entire night! I didn't even scent the thing!" He gestured to the beast. "I was nowhere near it!"

"You are a fucking wolf, and your hound nose could not pick up on unicorn blood? Shows how--"

"Enough," you snapped, still feeling emotional but not wanting to see a fist fight. With these two males, the results would be deadly. "Ghost, I trust him. But I know you don't, so do as he says. Track his movements."

John nodded in approval. "With all this snow, it will be easy. Go."

Ghost snarled, the noise incredibly primal. It went straight to your bones, making you shiver. It promised punishment if he found out Konig was lying. But there was no way. Konig could never do something that heinous.

The wraith stalked into the woods, and you had to hold onto John to keep upright.

The king was a pillar, frowning at the shifter. "Konig, I can understand needing space to consider your options, but you must be aware of the emotional hurt you caused Lunelle."

"I know. Gods, I know." He rubbed the back of his neck. Underneath his mask, he had no black paint, leaving the skin around his eyes bare, revealing dark rings. "I was worried. But like I said, I realized you would do whatever you wanted no matter what I said, Luney. I'm not going to let you do it alone. I'm not happy about it, but I can't do nothing. And I would never--" He choked up a bit, wincing. "I'd never, ever kill a unicorn to keep you from achieving what you were destined for. I hope you realize that."

You sighed, wanting a nap badly. "Yeah, I know. Okay. Then you'll help, Konig. We'll find something for you to do tomorrow. I can't really deal with anything else today." You put a hand on John's cheek. "It will get a proper burial?"

He nodded. "Of course. As soon as possible." He placed his hand over yours, giving you a soft smile before he turned his attention back to Konig. "Head inside and bathe. You smell like wet dog."

-   -   -

Ghost was gone the rest of the day, tracking Konig's movements through the night, do doubt. He was back by breakfast the next day, body going rigid as he noted Konig standing at the wall behind you as always.

The wraith sat in his chair with more force than usual, and you noticed with a frown that he also had dark circles beneath his pale eyes. Ghost's attention kept trailing back to the wolf shifter, and you knew he didn't trust Konig under any circumstances. Great. Just when you finally thought Konig was starting to really be a part of the cadre, he had to go throw a hissy fit over your independence with the world's worst timing.

You suspected Konig knew this though, and saved the nagging.

"Do we know if the seal on the poor beast worked?" Soap asked, using his hands to tear a roll open, earning a frown from John who pushed a knife towards him.

"It would be best not to discuss such sensitive matters with that one in the room," Ghost nearly growled, using his own butter knife to jab in Konig's direction.

Soap's brows shot up. Kyle already looked exasperated. You made eye contact with John, and the way he sipped his tea made it clear this one was on you. Lovely.

"Ghost, did you find any evidence that Konig was responsible?" you asked, setting your fork down and folding your hands atop the table. "Did his tracks lead anywhere near the site? Did you find bloody snow where his tracks overlapped? Anything belonging to Konig on the unicorn? Stab marks matching any of his knives?"

Ghost was silent for a moment. "Your Majesty, I understand that you do not want to believe the possibility--"

"I'm not asking for your opinion, I'm asking for evidence," you snapped. "Which you have none. Yes?"

The near-white of his eyes seemed to darken to storm cloud gray as he looked down. "Correct."

"That's what I thought. I agree the timing is weird, but until you have evidence that Konig's been going around murdering Fae and sacred magical beasts, he is innocent. Soap, continue." You sat back, suddenly losing your appetite. You were learning to be a queen, but you didn't enjoy having to take the tone up with the cadre. You supposed you'd have to learn that you couldn't always be their friend.

Soap looked nervously at Ghost, but he continued. "So...is yer magic sealed again, lass?"

You had already tested it this morning, but you instead reached out a hand to one of the leafy arrangements on the table. A curl of your fingers, and red flowers dotting the vase bloomed out, more blooms stemming from its stalk and growing into equally large flowers. "I was able to grow a few coffee bushes this morning, too. The unicorn blood didn't work."

Alton had been so overjoyed he nearly climbed onto the counter to kiss you when you presented him with the small beginnings of coffee bushes, grown from a few beans that you really had to convince him to hand over. It ached to know the unicorn truly did die for nothing, but this meant the seal could not be strengthened, and would break no matter what.

You met Ghost's eyes across the table, the male's mask pushed up over his mouth. You saw the understanding flash there, and nodded once. You truly didn't believe it was Konig who did this, but if it was...he also just heard your conclusion. Killing would do nothing. Escalating would do nothing. If Konig was truly the murderer, the information would hopefully put a stop to it. If the killings continued, it was more proof for his innocence. If they stopped...well, it wasn't absolute that it was Konig, but it would add extra suspicion.

You didn't want the killings to continue, especially if the monster was escalating to unicorns. You just wanted suspicion off your best friend and mate.

"In that case, we will begin training your gifts today," Kyle said with a happy smile. "Get changed after you finish eating."

Breakfast finished with some of the tension still lingering, and you were quick to jump from your seat when Ghost did. You chased after the wraith, catching him in the hall that lead towards the library. "Ghost."

He stopped, turning and looking down at you. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

The iciness of his tone made you grimace. "Are you okay?"

Ghost paused. His gaze went to the space behind you, where the door to the dining hall was opening. Kyle and Soap's voices floated towards you, but then you heard a grunt from Soap, and the voices retreated the other way. Gods bless Kyle.

The wraith lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, between his eyes. "I know you grew up with him, but you cannot say you do not realize how suspicious he is."

You began wringing your hands. "I...I can see where you're coming from. The timing would be perfect. But I don't think he'd do something like that."

A noise left the male, between frustration and pain. "Majesty," he started out, stepping towards you with his gray eyes pinned to you. You backed up until you hit a wall, and looked up at the wraith. "Lunelle. I know he loves you. There is no denying that. I think he loves you enough to do anything in his power to keep you from danger. Your magic, this prophecy...it is danger. Not only that, but he grew up with you. He likely saw the seal in your home. Maybe they know of runes in his homeland, or perhaps your father shared more details with him, hoping Konig could keep you safe in his absence."

Ghost was making sense, but you swallowed and shook your head. "He'd never willingly keep me weak."

A rueful, humorless laugh rumbled in his chest. "No? Most males adore a helpless female. It appeals to our baser instincts. Instincts to protect. Konig may believe he is protecting you from yourself. I hope you are correct, Lunelle. I really, truly do." He lifted a hand, and you noticed it trembled as he pushed hair back from your face. "I know how that kind of betrayal feels. I would not wish it on you. So until I can be entirely, irrevocably certain, I will watch him. I will ensure his innocence for the both of us." He sighed shakily, ducking down to press his forehead to yours.

This was the closest Ghost had ever been. You began to worry. He must really be tired to willingly touch you this...softly. You reached up to touch him, but paused, hand hovering in the air near his face. "Okay. You're keeping me safe. I see that. Thank you. Now I think you should really sleep." You finally found the courage to lightly touch his cheek, and he jerked away as if you burned him.

Ignoring the ache that tore through your heart from the action, you dropped your hand. Ghost blinked at you a few times, as if waking from a dream. "I...yes." Then he turned on his heel and walked away, dissipating into shadow a few steps down.

You stared at him, feeling a hollowness in your chest that had you rubbing at the afflicted area as if the action could absolve the feeling. All you wanted to do was curl up in bed, maybe cry for a day, sleep for a week, and pretend none of this was happening.

But it was. And ignoring it wouldn't make it go away. So, with a sigh, you steeled your spine and headed to your room to change into flexible clothing to begin training your magic.

-   -   -

The last time you imagined your magic, sitting in the dark recesses of your mind, it had appeared as a single edelweiss flower, multiplying when you held someone's hand.

Now, without any contact, you saw a field of edelweiss stretching before you, with lavender dotting the expanse in purple smudges. You could see the edge of the field, so you knew your magic was not fully returned, but it was more than you ever imagined.

Gasping, your eyes flew open, and Kyle was smiling. "It's coming back?"

"Yes," you breathed, hands tightening over your knees where your legs sat crossed on the ground.

"Good. It would be preferable to do all of this outside, but seeing as spring is still a month or two away, this is all we have to work with." Kyle sounded apologetic as he presented the long box filled with dirt to you. "Unless you would prefer the cold?"

"For now, this is okay," you agreed with a smile, reaching out and placing one of your hands in the soil. The scent was comforting, the softness of the dirt a salve to your soul. "I don't even know where to start."

"Grow something and manipulate it," the panther shifter suggested. "Lengthen the stem, bloom and wilt flowers. We will try as many times as it takes for it to become second nature to you. If we meet your magic where it is at, you can grow with it. It will make it much less frightening when it comes back in its full force."

That made sense. The beginnings of your magic strengthening had been frightening. You still weren't sure why it strengthened when you touched someone, but you didn't feel the need to rely on anyone else for your magic now.

Staring at the soil, you lifted a hand. As always, you imagined exactly what sort of plant you wished to grow. Almost immediately, a shoot of green rose from the earth. Oval leaves spread, fragrant white jasmine flowers yawning into existence. The flowers, with nothing to cling to, fell against the soil, and you stopped. Before, it took you a good minute of concentration to produce anything. This was immediate. You nearly began feeling sorry for yourself, but you would always work with what you had, no matter how significant.

"Excellent," Kyle said with a smile. "Can you...manipulate the vines? I recall you were able to wrap them around Ghost before."

The memory from the library felt distant, but you nodded. "You want me to, what? Wrap them around you?"

Kyle laughed, the sound full and warm. "Maybe another time, love. For now I just want you to stretch and grow them as far as you can."

So you did, frowning as you urged the vines to lengthen, more leaves popping up as the thin vine hung in the air under your manipulation. You made it a decent length, but you could feel the strain on your magic, tugging at the edges of your mind. Your vision began to swim, and you let go with a soft cry. The vine fell to the floor of the training room, and you held a hand to your head as the spots faded from your eyes.

"Do not push too far, love," Kyle murmured as he came behind you to rub your back. "Magic has limits. Push past them and you can start burning into your very life force."

The gift of life. And death.

The God's words came unbidden, though you weren't sure why. Your vision cleared, and you blinked rapidly. "I can keep going."

There was a pause, as if Kyle was weighing the truth of your words, the likelihood that you'd crash. "Alright. Then try to wilt the vines?"

"I--it doesn't work like that," you said with a shake of your head. "I can return the plant to the earth, but I cannot simply kill it. I can just transfer the energy."

"Oh?" Kyle tilted his head. "I will admit, I have only met a few earth wielders. Fire is...fickle. It is either there, all consuming, or not. Fire always wishes to eat, to grow. It is constantly hungry." He summoned a small flame, the edges dancing as he twirled it around his fingertips. "A fire wielder's gift comes from their ability to hold back that hunger, or to feed the flame. Either with our magic, or something else." The flame grew, and he grinned. The orange flames reflected in his eyes, the shifter's eyes nearly the same hue. "Every magic has its limits, its challenges." The flame dissipated. "Alright, love. Since killing the plant is out of the question, return it to the earth."

So you did, twisting your hand. It took considerably less effort to un-grow the plant, but it still pulled at your magic, spreading it thin. By the time it shrank into a small green shoot, you were panting, sweating.

"Careful," your mate murmured as he kept you from swaying. "You did well. You need a bit of rest for your magic to replenish. We can try again tomorrow."

"No," you said, a bit too fast. Kyle tilted his head at you, and you winced. "I mean...I need to practice, Kyle. I need to get my magic under control as soon as possible. I want to go again after dinner."

Understanding softened his features as he pulled you to his chest. "There is no time limit, love. You do not need to push yourself too hard."

"For us there isn't. But for the people suffering in Theodric?" You swallowed, throat tight. "Every day people suffer, starve. In winter it's worse, you know. The starving." You winced. "The sooner I can free them, give them something they deserve, the better."

He looked like he had a question on his tongue, but thought better of it. "Okay. I understand. We will try again later."

"Thank you." Your eyes slipped shut. "Thank you."

Then the exhaustion dragged you under.

Chapter Text

Chewing on your thumb nail, you stared at a small leaf on the table, working on moving it up and down. You didn't realize it was possible to move plants freely like this, without anything tethering them to the earth. Would that still classify your magic as earth? Did it matter? You could bloom flowers that were cut. Was this the same? Probably. Whatever.

You sighed, letting the leaf fall back onto the table. You were stalling, letting your brain overthink while you waited for Konig to finish his bath. You were in his room, sitting on his bed and staring at the vase of flowers settled there.

There was movement, and you perked up as Konig opened the door, a towel slung low around his hips and another ruffling at his wet curls, the color nearly black while wet. Gods, he was sexy. He had no mask on, his strong jaw and slightly crooked nose all available for you to appreciate openly. He skipped shaving, and had stubble covering his cheeks and jaw.

The shifter blinked at you, tossing the towel on his head over a chair. "Thought I heard you come in."

You nodded, forcing your gaze to drag up from his hips back to his face. "Can we talk?"

His shoulders tensed. The shifter walked around the room slowly, pulling out his clothes for the day and setting them atop the bed. "Of course, Luney."

"Did you kill them?" you blurted out before you could find a more delicate way of wording it. Lot of good that overthinking did, huh? "I--I mean. I can understand if you believed it was to protect me. Really. I just...Ghost thinks it was you, and he won't stop until he's certain one way or the other. So..." Your throat dried as you trailed off, hands fisting the blanket beneath you.

Konig turned towards you, looking a mix of devastated and angry. "Luney. We grew up together. You know me better than anyone in this Gods-damned realm, and you're asking me if I murdered people under your nose?"

Well when he put it that way, it sounded awful. You pressed your lips together in thought. "I know you would do anything to protect me."

"Yeah?" He threw down his trousers a bit aggressively onto the bed before he stalked to you. The hulking man leaned over you, arms braced on either side of your hips. He was so huge he had to bend over quite a bit, but the length of his arms put his face almost perfectly level with yours. "I sure as fuck would do anything to protect you. You know why?" That intense gaze dropped to your lips.

"I can guess," you responded, suddenly feeling breathless.

A slow, lupine grin spread over the male's lips. "Go ahead."

You sucked in a breath, lungs begging for air. "Because you love me."

A growl sounded from him, originating from deep in his chest. It was animalistic and far hotter than it should be. "That's right, Luney. Mein Mond. My Queen. I love you. I love you so much that I understand you and your needs far better than my own." His lips brushed over yours, barely touching. You fought the urge to tilt your head up, to claim him. "Knowing all that, do you believe I would betray you, kill innocents, and hide this from you with the goal of sealing your magic away? The very thing you've longed for?"

You couldn't actually think straight with your mate this close to you. His scent wrapped itself around your brain, making you dizzy, your heart fluttering. Damn that thing, you were supposed to have a serious chat, not be seduced.

"Hey," he snapped, tone clear and demanding. "Look at me, Luney. I want you to see it in my eyes."

You nearly whimpered, but you obeyed, lifting your gaze to his. You saw the piercing yellow, the sureness there. The honesty. Konig hummed in approval. "Then tell me; do you think I did it?"

You knew the answer. In your heart, you knew. Ghost made good points, but as far as you knew, the other murders happened while Konig was by your side. So you shook your head, just barely. "No."

Konig looked at you for a moment longer, then nodded once. "Good. That's all I need. I don't give a fuck what the wraith thinks."

He leaned in to finally connect your lips, and you melted. It had been so long since you touched him, and your hands immediately tangled into his mass of wet curls. He grunted into your mouth, one of his hands gripping your hip firmly. He pushed to lay you down, but your senses returned just in time.

"Wait," you gasped. "Wait."

Konig sighed, the sound longing, but he pulled back. His large hands cupped your cheek, your neck, sliding down your side. "What's wrong?"

"You still caused me a lot of worry," you managed out. "You're not getting off without a warning. I want you to meet me in my room after dinner."

He quirked a brow. "And I can't have you right now and after dinner because...?"

Because you needed John to keep you from melting underneath this absolute God of a man so you could punish and play. But you weren't about to tell him that. No; you needed to stay strong. You swallowed. "I promise I'll make it worth your while."

The wolf lifted a brow, clearly intrigued. "In that case..." He pulled away, and you wanted to cry at the loss of his warmth, the sight of his beautiful face hidden as he dressed and pulled his hood on.

It would be worth it. You talked to John the previous night and made plans on how to punish Konig properly. The payoff would be far better if you resisted him now.

-   -   -

You behaved yourself. You studied runes, did weapons training with Soap, who may or may not have made far too many comparisons to the practice staffs and his own "staff", and then practiced magic with John.

Today's magic lesson had a very particular goal, and John was your willing test dummy. He grinned, standing still while you wrapped vines around his ankles, his torso, his wrists. It was still hard to stretch your magic too far, and John suggested leaving a plant you grew previously in your bedroom, but Konig would catch on.

This was supposed to be a surprise. If he knew you were planning on tying him up beforehand it wouldn't be nearly as fun.

Once more you reached your limit as you concentrated on wrapping a curl of ivy around John's wrists, making figure eights so the tie would be stronger. John strained against the plants and nodded in approval. "I suspect your magic makes your plants stronger than the average blade of grass. These feel stronger than rope. It is possible to break through, but the longer you hone your magic, the stronger they will become."

"Is it enough to hold a very large wolf shifter?" you asked, panting a bit from the exertion of using your magic so much. It was like cardio; building up stamina by pushing yourself just a little bit further every time.

John hummed. "I believe it will be adequate. Besides, once he realizes why you are tying him up, he will have no desire to break free. Especially if you are naked."

Grinning, you felt a bit of lightness that had been mostly absent these past few days. You needed this. Needed your males.

Trying something with John and Konig together was a way to dip your toes into uncharted waters. Would you like being shared by two of your mates? Or would you find it awkward and embarrassing? Would the possessive nature of the Fae take hold of the males and make them growl and tear at each other's throat? Or...would they enjoy it just as much? It was hard to tell, but it was something you wished to explore. John did as well, and while he seemed certain that Kyle would be happy to join the two of you, he agreed that Konig deserved a bit of torment.

You looked over at John, the male kneeling on the mat in front of you with his hands bound just in front of him. The way his arms pulled down in front of him put all of those beautiful muscles on display, and you lifted a hand to run over one of his biceps appreciatively.

"Darling," came his honey voice, a warning lacing the word.

"Yes?" You blinked at him, then flicked your hand, sending the plants--and his hands--up above his head.

"I can break out of these any time I wish," he said, eyes flashing with a dark playfulness.

You nodded, standing and walking to him. Reaching down, you cupped the male's hands in your face, smiling as he stared up at you. "Yeah," you agreed, "but you won't. Will you, John?"

He didn't reply, eyes on you the entire time you slid your hands down his arms, over his shoulders. Standing in front of the king with him on his knees, you truly did feel like a queen. You tugged a chair that was near the mats closer, chest rising and falling rapidly as you shimmied out of your training pants and sat down.

The king's eyes immediately honed in on your glistening sex as you parted your legs, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip. "My Queen," he murmured.

"I want to test my control of the restraints," you responded, crooking a finger. The vines pulled towards you, dragging John forward. He grunted, forced to walk on his knees as he moved towards you. The big male was right between your legs, and you shuddered as you widened your legs a bit more to accommodate him. "How about a warm-up?"

John hummed, not hesitating as you tangled your fingers into his short hair, pulling him in between your hips. The king slid his tongue against your folds, and you closed your eyes. He was going slow, gentle. He was teasing you, exercising whatever control he had over you even in this position. Whining, you rolled your hips against him, trying to grind against his wet muscle.

John obliged you, swirling his tongue over your clit before sucking it into his mouth sharply. The suction had you seeing stars, grip tightening on his brown hair. You threw your head back, thighs threatening to close around his head. Your mate dipped his tongue into your entrance before spearing his tongue in, a long moan peeling out from you in response. But soon, his tongue, while wildly satisfying, no longer was enough. You needed to be filled, to have your pussy stretched open and take away the emptiness that was nagging at you.

"John," you gasped, struggling to keep control of the vines holding his hands in the air. "John, please."

"Please what, my sweet?" he asked, gazing up at you through his lashes. "Tell me what you need."

"I need--" You gasped as his teeth nipped at your clit. "Fuck. John, I need you. I need you inside of me. Your fingers, your cock, anything, just--please."

He chuckled, the sound only soaking you more. "Oh? Giving up control so soon, Lunelle? Too bad my hands are currently out of commission."

A huff, and you splayed your fingers out, the plants loosening and falling down John's arms. The king shook them off easily, his hands finding your knees to lift your legs up over his broad shoulders, your heels pressing into his back. "Are you going to be a good girl?"

"Yes," you panted, ready to agree to anything so long as he took care of the burning need coursing through you.

He quirked a brow, his facial hair scratching the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Oh? Even if I say you can cum only when I give you permission?" He kissed your inner thigh, fingers reaching to hold onto your hips at the junction where they met your thighs. "If you cannot control yourself and let go before then, tonight's punishment will not only be for your pup."

Nodding, you rocked your hips again, pussy begging for him. "Yes. Yes I'll be good."

He kissed your folds, tongue barely ghosting over your clit. "'Yes, daddy'," he commanded, clearly wanting you to repeat after him.

"Yes, daddy," you gasped out. That was all it took for John to dive into your pussy with full force, his calloused fingers spreading you apart and pressing into you. For now it was only one digit, his finger easily slipping in and out of your wet entrance. His tongue swirled over your folds, always returning to your clit, biting and sucking on the bundle of nerves. Warmth was building, causing your legs to tremble over the male's shoulders desperately.

"Such a needy little girl," he teased, adding in a second finger and twisting his hand to curl them upwards. "You are absolutely clamping down on my hand, darling. Need daddy's cock that badly? Is that it?" You were beyond words. His fingers hit your g-spot perfectly, the pressure causing your release to build faster and faster. John growled, biting your clit hard enough to make you yelp. "I need words from you, Lunelle. Tell me how badly you need my cock in you. You will not cum yet. I will not allow it."

Words. Words. You knew how to make those, right? Your mouth knew the shapes, the sounds. "P-please, daddy," you managed out, using all of your concentration on getting your voice out. "I need your cock so fucking bad. My pussy is begging for you. Please can I have it?"

"There's my good girl," he praised, slipping in a third finger. "Just a bit more, my darling. Hold on for me, alright?"

Your heels pressed into John's back as he drove three of his thick fingers in and out of you, curling to hit that sweet spot while his mouth abused your clit. Your breathing was erratic, and you nearly sobbed as you felt your orgasm threaten to crash over you. "No, no, no!" you whimpered out, eager to obey. "No, don't want to cum yet! Please, daddy!"

A low, warm chuckle rumbled through John, vibrating against your sex as he pulled back. His lips and chin were glistening with your wetness, the male pulling his fingers from you and sticking them in his mouth. The sight alone made you mewl, hips rolling down, pussy clenching over nothing. John winked before lifting up. "Okay, sweetness. You have earned your reward." He gave you a lazy smile as he undid his belt, dropping it to the ground before opening the button closure on his pants, shoving them slightly down his hips to free his cock. It was already hard and leaking at the tip, entirely ready for you. "You wanted this, Lunelle? You wanted daddy's cock?"

"Yes," you whispered, nodding. "Please? I was so good."

"You were," he agreed, bending his knees while he reached for your knees, tugging sharply. You fell down in the chair as your hips lifted into the air. John lined himself up with you, and with a sharp thrust of his hips, entered you entirely. The stretch and fullness felt so good, so right. Each of your mates had a different cock, but each one felt perfect in every way. The king moved in and out slowly a few times, his head falling back as he groaned, the noise filling the training room. "My darling, you feel incredible. Each time I enter you, I enter the Eternal's gates."

He set his pace, a constant pounding of his hips into yours. The king gazed down at you lovingly while he murmured praises, letting you know how beautiful you were, how good you felt. Your mind was mush, and all you could manage to respond with were whines and moans, but John didn't seem to mind.

Your release wound up quickly again, having barely abated before the male entered you. You gasped, reaching for one of John's wrists, nails digging into his flesh. "Daddy, I can't hold on."

"That's alright," he cooed, one of his hands going down to smooth over your face. "Go ahead, my darling. Cum on daddy's cock, yes? Show me how much you love it." His hand fell to your pussy, sliding over your clit. The pleasure was so good it was almost painful, and with a few more strokes you spasmed on his length, back arching to the point where you nearly fell off your chair. John chuckled, continuing to stroke your clit until you slapped at his hand, pulling it away from you.

He finally moved his hand away with a breathy chuckle, beginning to move his hips faster and harder. "Good girl. You looked ravishing, darling. So very lovely. You will look even more beautiful with my cum inside of you, with your stomach swollen with my baby." He groaned, licking his lips. "I am going to fuck a baby into you, sweet. Does that sound nice?"

You nodded, eyes nearly rolling back as your pussy continued to clench, assaulted with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Please. Give me everything."

"I will," he panted, hips starting to grow even more wild. "Come here, darling, let me give you a family. I want to give you a baby so fucking badly." He reached around your body, one arm wrapping around your hips while the other went around your back. He lifted you out of the chair easily until he was standing with you wrapped around him like one of your vines. Hands holding your thighs, he pushed his hips into you. You were both still clothed from the waist up, and you groaned as you buried your face in his shoulder.

John murmured praise to you until he hummed lowly, hips stilling deep inside you. You felt his member twitch, warmth flooding you from the inside. You gasped at the sensation, walls fluttering around him. "Take it," he murmured, "take it deep."

Slowly, the king lowered you back onto the training mat. He gently pulled himself out of you, licking his lips at the sight of your ruined pussy. You felt his hot cum leak, and whined, hips twitching. John grunted as he gathered the release, pushing it back into your pussy. "All of it stays in," he murmured, eyes dark. "Right where it belongs."

You smiled at him, feeling drunk. John kept his fingers in you for a few moments longer before gathering you in his arms and taking you both to his room to clean up and prepare for your date with the wolf shifter later.

-   -   -

You could barely eat. You were nearly squirming in your seat, wanting dinner to be over so you could hurry up and have dessert. But you managed to get through the entire meal, with John shooting you amused looks the entire time. The other males noted your restlessness, but held back their comments. Except Soap, who asked if you had ants in your pants.

But finally, finally dinner ended. You nearly bolted to your room, but you had to go slow. Calm. Collected. That's what you needed to be. You were going to listen to John, let him tell you what to do, and you were going to be good. You didn't need this turning into a punishment for both you and Konig, after all.

Konig's eyes were on you from the back wall, and he slowly pushed off to follow you upstairs after you beckoned him with a crook of your fingers. Your other mates--and Ghost--made themselves scarce, with John trailing behind you both leisurely.

You finally got Konig into your room, but John would come in later. You needed a moment alone with the wolf shifter first.

"I need a few things from you," you informed him in a rushed breath, hands tangling into his shirt. Konig blinked, waiting. "I need to know if you're really okay with John watching, maybe joining. And if...if you'd be willing to show him your face."

That was the part you were afraid of; breaking that boundary of his hidden face. If he wasn't, you'd let him keep the hood on, or at least shield him from John's gaze as needed. You watched a war rage in Konig's yellow eyes, but they hardened in resolve. "I'm willing," he said with a nod. "He's my king now, after all. I trust him. And this...this means he trusts me, too."

"Yes," you agreed, smoothing your hands up over his broad shoulders. "Thank you. You can take it off whenever you're ready, but if you feel like you need it back on, or you're uncomfortable, you say something. Okay? I'm not going to risk your wellbeing."

Konig's head cocked to the side, his thumb brushing over your lips. "No worries, Luney. I'll strip for you." And so he did, pulling off his hood first to get the other pieces off. One by one, his clothing fell into a pile on the floor, revealing every glorious inch of him. His cock was already half-hard, and you bit your lip as you glanced at it. Not yet; you needed to wait for John.

You helped Konig put his hood back on before creeping over to the door connecting John's room to yours. You gave it a single knock, and John was opening it and stepping through a moment later. He smiled at you, pecking your lips before taking in Konig. He eyed the male appreciatively, then gestured towards the bed. "Go ahead and lay down, pup. Your queen has plans."

Konig's hands twitched, but he obeyed. His giant form took up a good portion of your bed, but he spread out anyway, eyes watching from beneath the hood. You glanced at John, who gave you a single nod. He moved to sit in a chair by the bed, legs spread. "Go ahead, darling."

Konig looked at you with a question in your eyes, and you just grinned as you waved a hand. Vines sprouted from pots you placed at each corner of your bed earlier that day, the greenery wrapping around each of Konig's wrists and ankles, pulling his arms up and over his head. His biceps flexed, and everyone knew he could break free if he wanted to. But he wouldn't. No, Konig's chest was rising and falling quickly, yellow eyes dark with interest.

"Good girl," John praised from his seat. "Are you feeling quite comfortable, pup?"

The shifter grunted. "Never better."

"Good. Lunelle, darling, how about you strip on top of him, hm? Give us both a show."

Grinning, you straddled Konig's broad waist. Both pairs of eyes were on you, and you felt beautiful as you worked on getting your clothes off. You had a two-piece outfit on, so you worked first on getting your shirt off, taking the outer layer off before peeling off the undershirt, too. All that was left was your thin cotton chemise, the fabric see-through. Your nipples were already hard, poking through the material.

Konig's yellow eyes honed in on them, biceps flexing again while you peeled the chemise off, your skirts already forgotten on the floor. You smiled at him, leaning over him. Your breasts swayed slightly, and you placed a hand on the edge of his hood. "Can I take this off?" you asked quietly.

John remained silent, knowing this wasn't a question for him. You would both honor whatever his decision was. Konig glanced over at John, but after a pause he gave one single nod. You slowly removed the fabric, revealing your mate's beautiful, rugged face. You slid your palm against his cheek while John let out an appreciative noise. "You are quite handsome under that hood, Konig," he complimented. "I want to see our queen sit on that lovely face."

The wolf's eyes flared in interest, and you could feel his hard cock twitch beneath you. You beamed, hopping up and moving over Konig's face. "Yes, daddy," you chirped happily. Konig groaned at the name, even though it wasn't for him. You lowered your hips over his waiting mouth, gasping as his hot mouth met your pussy. You hovered, allowing his mouth to work at you, but you heard John let out a displeased sound.

"Lunelle," he called out slowly. "I recall telling you to 'sit', did I not? You are not sitting, you are hovering. Sit. He can take it. Right, pup?"

Konig, you could tell, was unsure how to take being bossed around. With the two of you, he was always in charge. But glancing at his eyes, you found him eager and willing. "Yes," he responded.

"'Yes, my king'," John coached.

Konig grit his teeth. "Yes, my king."

"Good boy," the king praised, and you swore you saw Konig shudder beneath you. Interesting. But you listened to John, sinking down and sitting on Konig's face, letting him eat you out with enthusiasm.

You saw sparks of pleasure dance behind your lids, your hips twitching on him. He'd pull up a bit for air occasionally, but would always dive back down. You could feel your orgasm building, so you looked to John. "Daddy, I'm going to cum."

"No, you are not," he responded, shaking his head. "Up. Your pup needs tending to. Suck his cock."

You wanted to whine at the denied release, lifting up over Konig. His lips were red and swollen, chin wet. You whimpered at the sight, your mate's yellow eyes dark from his dilated pupils. You wanted more praise from John though, so you obeyed. As you lowered down between Konig's legs, John stood up to move closer. He placed a hand on the back of your head, guiding you onto the male's length.

Konig's eyes were trained on the two of you, watching in rapt fascination as John pushed your head down onto Konig. The wolf shifter was easily the largest of your mates, even without the knot that formed at the base of his cock. You fit your mouth around the male's cock, letting John control the pace. You concentrated on breathing through your nose, working your tongue around the underside of his cock. John was slowly working you into taking his entire length, the shifter's cock already hitting the back of your throat.

Konig was keening under you, hips trying to rock, though John placing a hand on his hip stopped him from continuing. "That's it," he cooed to you, grunting as you gagged on Konig. "Good girl, Lunelle. Relax that pretty throat. Take his big cock in, all the way in. Yes, good girl. You are doing wonderful, darling."

John's soft voice was coaxing you through the motions, and your pussy clenched, needing attention. But, with John's help, you swallowed the shifter's cock, gagging again. Tears sprang in your eyes, and Konig licked his lips at the sight.

"My, my," John mused as he reached between you, fingers wrapping around the base of Konig's cock. The wolf threw his head back with a groan. "Your knot is growing, pup. Better calm down. I only want you cumming inside of Lunelle. Understand?"

The shifter growled out, but he nodded. "Yes, my king."

"Fast learner," the king noted, pleased. He removed his hand from Konig's member, slowly pulling you off of the shifter. You coughed as Konig's cock left your throat, jaw aching and tears in your eyes. John wiped the tears away, pressing a kiss to your swollen lips. "So lovely, my queen. Now, I do not think this is a good enough punishment for Konig. So you will sit over him, on all fours, while I fuck you. Does that sound nice, my sweet?"

You nod, willing to do anything for the male's cock. For any cock, really. John tapped your ass, urging you up. Konig groaned as you positioned yourself over him, tits swaying in his face. John positioned himself behind you, knees pressing into the bed around Konig's long legs. John kept one hand on your hip as he pushed into you with a groan, your own mouth loosening a similar moan of pleasure.

John was not in the mood to go slow or gentle, his hips pounding into you while his grip on your hips remained harsh. He tangled one hand into your hair again to force your head back, back arching. You cried out at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Ah, ah," John tsked. "Eyes open, Lunelle. Keep them on your pup. He wants to see you fall apart on your king's cock. He's being a very good boy, so give him what he wants, hm?"

"Yes," you gasped out, doing your best to keep your gaze on Konig's. He was twitching, straining, obviously fighting back the urge to rip free of the restraints. He bucked beneath you, and John growled.

"Patience, pup. Just wait a bit longer. I will cum inside Lunelle, and you will fuck her, put that pretty knot in her pussy, and plug her up so she has both of our cum nice and safe in that womb. Do you understand?" His voice was harsh, but it sent zaps of pleasure through you.

"Yes, my king," Konig replied, tone dark and laced with desire. You could tell he was enjoying this, and sharing your mates at the same time was proving everything you ever wanted and more.

John slammed his hips into you a few more times, reaching around to grab your throat when you whimpered you were going to cum. "No, darling, you will wait until Konig has his cock inside of you. Be patient. Do not cum on me, or you will be punished, too."

You whined, doing everything in your power to stop the pleasure from cresting over you as John pushed in all the way, sighing out as he spilled inside. You whimpered as his cock slipped out, but you didn't have time to relax before John was grabbing your hips, shifting you. "Come on, darling, time to ride Konig. He has been very good for us."

You lowered down onto Konig's length in a haze, gasping as his size stretched you out. He was impossibly deep, his girth providing a pleasant burn while your body adjusted.

"Ride him," John urged in your ear, hands on your hips as he guided you from behind. He helped you bounce up and down Konig's length, the wolf writhing beneath you. He was groaning, eyes rolling back while he watched. One of John's hands lifted to your breasts to toy with your nipples, and you jerked.

"Daddy," you gasped. "Daddy, I can't hold it any more."

"You need not hold back any longer," he cooed. "Go ahead, my darling. Cum on your pup's big cock. You both want it."

Your body obeyed instantly, walls clamping down on the male beneath you. Konig growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. John let you still for a few moments, but Konig's hips twitched. Smirking, John began moving your body again. At this point you were boneless, relying on your mate for support. Konig's knot was swelling, so John worked you down on top of it.

"Beautiful," the king murmured in appreciation, hand going between you and Konig to feel where you connected, where your pussy wrapped tight around his knot. "How does it feel, Lunelle?"

"Full," you sighed out. Konig's hips were twitching and rolling, and after a few moments he came with a roar, hot cum filling you up.

After a few moments of breathing together, you flicked a hand lazily and sent your ivy away from the wolf's limbs. John peppered kisses over your back and shoulder as he lowered you down onto Konig so you could both wait out his knot deflating.

He murmured praise for the both of you, sliding his fingers through your mess of hair, and then Konig's. Konig seemed to be doing well under the attention as well, which was both surprising and comforting. Since Ghost was suspicious of him, Konig could use the connection with John. You supposed it would be for them to work out.

You fell asleep like that, unaware of your mates washing you off before they both joined you in bed, wrapped around you protectively.

I think we all needed this.
Anyway if y'all enjoy a Why Choose or poly type story please check out my new Hockey! AU fic, Odd-Man Rush.

Read here!

Chapter Text

The runes. There were so many runes. You thanked the Gods that some sort of magic had gifted you the ability to speak Alextren, including Old Alextren, because having to study that before you could get into these runes would have driven you mad.

The book was heavy and thick, and there must have been an enchantment on it, because no matter how far you thought you made it into the book, there were still hundreds of pages waiting for you. At this point you were trying to cross-reference the symbols in your seal with those in the book.

Life. Fire. King. You confirmed all three. You had not yet found the remaining three, but you were able to rule some out. They were not for earth or air, nor for queen. Not for lamb, cow, pig, or sheep. Not for the cardinal directions. Honestly, at this point bashing your head into a wall sounded more productive than going through this book.

But you wouldn't stop. You had to do everything you could. Every day you trained, studied, planned. It was all hands on deck, with everyone planning exactly how and when you would enter the castle to confront the king. Of course, the game plan for what to do after you found the king was up in the air, and you were really banking on this book of runes holding the answer.

Why did Gods have to be so cryptic? For a bunch of powerful beings who wanted you to do their bidding so badly, they gave you the vaguest hints possible to work from. You have everything you need? It sure as hell didn't feel like it.

Your mates were starting to worry about you. You were losing sleep, staying up late into the night with your nose in the book of runes, or in some history tome on Alextre. You wanted to find information on the king's old village, searching his name in the logs. However, it was so long ago you were unsure if there would be records of the boy the Gods adored so much, or if they would even be kept here. Alextre didn't exist when Philip Graves lived in it.

You sighed as you slammed another heavy book shut, crinkling your nose once a cloud of dust rose from the pages. There was a preservation rune that half of this library could benefit from, but these days you hadn't the blood to spare. Though the tithe of blood could be from any beast, not just your own veins. It made the magic stronger, and the stronger the being, the stronger the rune. That explained why the mystery killer went after the unicorn. There were few creatures more powerful than those sacred beings. The fact that it had no effect on your seal made your heart ache for the creature's meaningless death.

You needed to find the killer, but you had so much on your plate.

You pulled the book of runes closer to yourself as the big wooden doors to the library creaked open. You didn't bother lifting your head, guessing it was one of your mates trying to coax you into bed. Again. You already shooed off Kyle and Konig today. Maybe it was Soap or John's turn.

"Your Majesty." The smooth voice surprised you, and as you lifted your head to find its owner, pale silver eyes peered at you through the library's darkness. "You need to rest."

You frowned, shaking your head and returning to your book. "Not yet. I want to look for just a little longer. The glyphs are getting more similar to one of these runes." You pointed at one. "I think I can find it tonight."

The wraith made a noise in the back of his throat. "You have been working day in and day out."

Rich, coming from him. "And you haven't?"

The chair across from you scraped as Ghost pulled it out, sliding into it. "That is different."

You didn't bother looking up at him. "I do not see how. We are both working towards the same goal. If you are allowed to lurk in the halls throughout the night, I can spend some time in the library. Do not think I have not noticed you outside my room when Konig is sleeping with me."

It was true; recently, on nights when you had Konig in your bed, the edge of your wards fluttered, sensing Ghost's shadows brushing up against them. Checking. Protecting. He obviously still had suspicion against the shifter, and would not let up.

"You are my queen, and your wellbeing is my top priority. That includes making sure your pup does not harm you, as well as ensuring you are well physically. That means adequate rest. Go to bed, Majesty." His voice held no room for compromise.

Head snapping up, you frowned. "Too bad I outrank you, soldier."

For the first time tonight, you let yourself really look at Ghost. He had none of his soft armor on, but was in all black as always. He blended into the shadows perfectly, the only bits of skin visible his hands, folded on the table, as well as his eyes. A bit of his hair was visible under the top line of his mask, and you blinked. You knew he was blonde by pale gold of his eyelashes and eyebrows, along with the tantalizing stubble that sometimes appeared on his cheeks, but seeing the dark yellow strands caught you off guard. His hair was long enough to hang in front of his eyes. Not buzzed. Not cut short. Your fingers twitched with the want to run through the strands, to tug.

His silver eyes were hard, studying you intensely. The flame on the candle sat on the table between you danced as his shadows curled around the edges of light. "You really need to know the other runes, Lunelle? Does it even matter? The crone said the seal would break when you were ready. There is no point in digging around."

Irritation was settling in your chest. "I can break it faster and come into my full power if I have all the answers," you snapped.

"You are in that much of a hurry? Enough to risk your health?"

Gods, he was being stubborn today. Usually he stuck to one-sentence responses and moody glares. "Yes! I have the entire fate of a kingdom on my hands, Ghost. I can't just let myself rest and sleep while people die and suffer! Weren't you the one who encouraged me to choose this path? Can you say you'd respect me if I chose to ignore all of this instead?"

His hands clenched into fists as his eyes narrowed. "That's not what I meant. You think you will be useful to anyone when you are so exhausted you can barely stand?"

You wanted to tear your hair out. "Compared to the suffering of others, this is nothing. I will not stop until I have my answers."

"You need answers?" He stood suddenly, leaning over the table towards you. "If you are going to be this fucking stubborn, then fine. Those other three runes on your seal? They are for strength, wolf, and shadow. Will you go to bed now?"

You stopped, feeling suddenly frozen. Frowning, you glanced from the wraith down to the image of your seal. "You cannot possibly know that."

"I do know that," he said, and you could imagine he was baring his teeth.

"How?!" you demanded. "Unless you've been swiping my book when I've been out training or sleeping. Besides, if you knew what the symbols were the whole time, why didn't you say anything sooner?! Were you planning on letting me run myself into the ground searching like this?!"

"I thought you had enough sense to know when to rest, but I was incorrect. I would have told you sooner but I--I could not bear it." His eyes tightened at the corners, as if he was in pain.

Your hands shook as you planted them on the table's surface, using it to push yourself up, the sturdy wood bracing you. Ghost stood quite a bit taller than you, but you would not allow yourself to be intimidated. "You're either lying, or you've been keeping information from me, which is a really awful thing to do. Everyone has been throwing themselves into this mission! I have been sitting up for days, searching for answers. And you want me to believe you had the answers all along?"

"Yes." His voice was strained.

"I don't believe you." You scoffed, anger flaring in your chest. "How would you know about the runes?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be annoyed. "Lunelle, it is my business to know the unknown. The entire time we were in the Highlands, I was gathering information. I was sneaking around, allowing my shadows to infiltrate and search. I went through the book before the hag gifted it to you."

Unbelievable. "And you hid the information because...?"

His eyes opened fully, full of irritation. "Because I knew as soon as you had all the information, you would figure out the truth, and I was not ready for it yet! I selfishly wanted a little bit more time to brace myself first."

"Ready for what? What do you mean you needed to brace yourself? What kind of truth are you even talking about? Do you know who's been killing people?"

The wraith groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fuck, Lunelle. Think about it. Wolf. King. Fire. Strength. Shadow."

You blinked. "My mates," you said. "That was one of my first theories. A theory that, if I recall correctly, you told me was ridiculous! You said those runes could mean anything, that they likely had no connection to them whatsoever!"

"I was scared!" he roared so loudly the candle between you winked out, washing the library in darkness. The breath came out of you in a whoosh, Ghost's eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. Subdued. Resigned. "Think, Lunelle. Shadow."

It took a full two seconds to register what he said, what he wanted you to understand. "You're shadow," you breathed. "You...it's you. Does...does that mean?"

You didn't want to say the words. Didn't want to finish your train of thought, terrified of what it meant. What you had always secretly hoped for, but thought was impossible. After all, how could Ghost be your mate? He barely looked at you, barely spoke to you. He only recently began acknowledging you. Every time he acted softly with you, he froze right back up again. When you tried to touch him, he jerked away as if your touch was repulsive. How could someone treat their mate that way?

"What..." You licked your lips, eyes searching the darkness for his form. "Since when, Ghost? When did you know?"

"The moment I first saw you at the bridge." The male sounded anguished. There was a raw edge to his tone that tugged at your heart, begging you to comfort, to please. "I saw you, and the bond snapped into place."

That long ago? The same moment as John? "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How could I?" He scoffed, the sound void of any mirth. "You were engaged to my king. I had a brief moment of hope, where I made a plan. As soon as I had a moment alone with His Majesty, I would tell him. I would tell him that I understood the importance of the marriage, of this political match, but I just found my mate. I did not think John would be so cruel as to keep my mate from me. Surely he would give you to me, once he knew how much you meant to me. I was so certain I would find a way to make everything work. But then..." His voice cracked as he trailed off.

"John told me I was his mate," you finished for him in a whisper.

"Yes." Ghost let out a breath. "He did. For a moment, I was angry with him. So very angry. He had to be lying, you see. Because you were mine, and Fae have one mate. That is what we all believed. But then your pup opened his fat mouth too, and everything went to absolute hell."

You wished you could light the candle once more. You were aching to see the expression on the wraith's face. His eyes reflected in the dark, but not enough to show you the emotion in them. Ghost was always so stoic, so stony. If you saw an ounce of what you could hear in his voice reflected in his eyes, you would crack open right down the middle and spill onto the ancient floorboards.

The male continued. "It felt like a cruel joke. I had not prayed to the Gods in so long, I was certain they were angry with me. If only I had made more offerings, gone to temple. Perhaps then they would have given me a mate that was mine and mine alone. They gave me such a beautiful gift, only to rip the happiness from my bleeding hands. I decided to hide it, right at that moment. I did not know if His Majesty was lying, or if your guard was. If they were, I was going to kill them both if they tried to keep you from me." You believed him. "But I could see for myself that they were not lying. They were your mates, and you were theirs'. I watched my brothers claim you, one by one, until it felt as though there was no room left for me."

"Ghost, that's--"

"Let me finish," he huffed. "I distanced myself from you. I did everything to keep you at arm's length. I wanted to claim you more than anything, Lunelle. But I knew that if I did, I had to offer every broken piece of myself to you as well. And selfishly, I could not. For if I showed you every dark corner of myself, surely you would not want me. And I would not blame you for it. After all, how could I have ever deserved you? I am a monster, Lunelle. I hurt the people I love. I do not wish the same fate for you."

Your heart ached. You could no longer bear the darkness, and fumbled for a small flint, using it to light the candle between the two of you again. The dark flame revealed Ghost's pained expression, and your breath caught as you held out a hand. "Ghost--no. You would never hurt me. What are you talking about?"

"I killed my mother," he said. "It was my fault. My father, he--he was not a good man, Lunelle. He was violent, and cruel. Causing pain was the only thing that brought him happiness, and finding creative ways to bring about that pain was his only hobby. I was his favorite test subject. He and my mother were mates." He laughed emotionlessly. "The Gods do not always pair wisely. But the bond prevented him from hurting her, since he would feel the pain as well. She tried to protect me, but my father was far too strong. But one day...he went too far. I was dying. He would not stop, and I had begun praying to the Gods for a death that felt like feather beds and warm fires. I was ready to face death, but my mother stepped in. She was a wraith, you know. Becoming fully corporeal was difficult, but for me she did. She put herself between my father and me, and the killing blow hit her instead."

Tears pooled at your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

"If she had not stepped in, she would still be alive. Her death caused my father much agony. He took his own life a few months later. The villagers said I brought bad luck, and that my shadows were omens of death. They cast me out. After causing the death of both of my parents, I saw that they had a point." He took in a slow, steady breath. His hands were tight fists at his sides. "I hid my face out of fear and shame. I did not want anyone to recognize me. I look a lot like my father, and I hate it. I even have his name--Simon. I rid myself of it, and became a ghost."

Slowly, you moved around the table. Ghost's light eyes were wary, and you approached him as if he were a feral animal, poised to bite but in dire need of comfort and a loving hand. "Ghost, none of that is true," you said softly, training your eyes on his. "Your mother died protecting you. She would not want you to blame yourself for her death. Your father's death was his own fault. I am sorry that happened to you. You didn't deserve to be treated so horribly, by your family or your village. You were a child, and they should have protected you better. None of it was your fault. If you need proof, look around the castle. John isn't dead. Neither is Soap, or Kyle, or anyone else. You are not a bad omen, Ghost. You are a male, and you are deserving and worthy of love."

Reaching out, you held your breath as your fingers found the soft edge of the wraith's mask. You gripped the material, searching his eyes, looking for rejection. You found only resigned acceptance, and slowly tugged the male's mask away. The face revealed was breathtaking.

Ghost looked like one of the avenging angels carved into the new God temples in Theodric. His dark blonde hair was mussed from the mask, a bit shaggy and falling over his forehead. His brow was strong, and his nose was tall and proud. His cheekbones slanted perfectly, with a layer of blonde stubble covering his cheeks and the sharp line of his jaw. His lips were plush, cupid's bow prominent. A scar cut through his chin, silvery against his pale skin.

"There you are," you murmured as you cupped his cheeks.

A ragged breath tore through the male as his eyes slipped shut. He gave in, nuzzling against your palm. "I dreamed about what your touch would feel like."

Your lips quirked into a small, sad smile. "You are welcome to my touch whenever you wish, Simon."

He tensed at your usage of his name, eyes threatening to shutter. You swiped your thumb against his scratchy cheek. "Your name is part of you, Ghost. It once belonged to your father, but it is yours now. Yours to reclaim. You can decide what type of male Simon is. Erase his memory. Give your name new life. You do not need to be a ghost here. We all see you. Let us in."

Slowly, the male nodded. "Alright," he whispered, placing one warm hand over yours and rubbing your skin with his thumb. He reached for you, wrapping you in his strong arms. It was everything you hoped it would be, strong and warm and safe. The two of you stayed like that for a while before the wraith finally glanced down at you.

"Now, would you go to bed, Your Majesty?

Chapter Text

"Cheeky bastard," Soap grumbles at Ghost, tossing the hard heel of a loaf of bread at him across the table. "Always has to be the best at everything, the first in everything!"

You sighed, glancing over at the male. News that Ghost was also your mate--has been your mate--finally got out after he told you. You offered to keep it private, but it looked like Ghost was over whatever reservations he had previously about the matter, and decided to tell everyone with you over breakfast. John didn't seem surprised. Kyle and Soap were shocked, and Konig was near-furious. Soap had to physically hold him back, or else the wolf would have slammed his fist into Ghost's face.

Konig was still scowling and glowering behind you from his place at the wall, and you swore you could hear his teeth gnashing. You could understand his upset to an extent; Ghost was accusing him of having secrets, of hiding things, when he had been hiding something this major from everyone since the very beginning. You were still upset with Ghost as well. He was running away from himself, from you, but being cold and distant towards you in the process. You certainly wouldn't be cuddling up to him like you did your other mates quite as quickly, and the two of you would take some time to work out your dynamic. Things felt awkward, stiff.

There were larger issues to deal with, though. Now that your seal should be fully broken, you were more desperate than ever to train your powers. You could feel the energy crawling under your skin, and it was the first time magic had ever made you feel uncomfortable. There was so much of it, when you closed your eyes and envisioned your magic, there was no end to the field of flowers sprawling before you. It was overwhelming.

"Are you done acting like a youngling?" you asked Soap, who looked like he was about to throw something much more deadly than a hunk of bread at Ghost since the wraith wasn't entertaining him.

The hyena shifter glanced at you, then at your other mates, noticing they all seemed to be over the shock of the mating news. He frowned and slouched in his chair, but nodded. "Aye. Just a wee bit sore about it."

"It hardly seems like the most pressing matter at hand," you pointed out, setting your spoon down as your appetite vanished, replaced by a knot of anxiety and restlessness. "I'm going to go train."

"Lunelle, finish eating," the king insisted with a frown, leaning forward towards you. "Your magic will drain you much faster if your body does not have sufficient energy."

You gave him a small, tight smile. "I'll be fine. My magic seems to have...deepened. I'm not worried about burning out anymore. Join me after you finish eating, I could use the help." You pressed a kiss to his cheek, then slid your hand across Kyle's shoulder as you passed behind him on your way out of the dining room, aware every set of eyes in that room was pinned on you.

You were likely worrying your mates, but it was a necessary evil. This was something you needed to get control of sooner rather than later.

No longer fearing the barrier of winter, you headed outside towards the training grounds. Winter still had its grasp over the land, but it was fading. The piles of snow were dwindling, and the wind carried a kiss of warmth that promised spring. Your magic flared to life in response, and as you stretched your hands out, you closed your eyes. You grew a tree with Kyle while intimate. You had yet to attempt to grow anything that big, but if you could do it on accident...

A sapling sprouted from the earth, its limbs quickly going from wiry and flexible to thick and sturdy. The tree creaked and groaned as you guided its growth, feeding it with your magic. Within seconds you managed to grow a huge, sturdy willow tree, its many branches yawning out and dangling over the ground, kissing the freshest layer of powdery snow.

Satisfied with its size, you began practicing manipulating the branches, swaying their forms back and forth before twisting them in the air, bending them to your will. It was effortless, simple. It felt like breathing, like taking a step forward. You didn't have to concentrate, didn't need to clench your teeth or force. Your magic merely waited inside of you, a well of power happy to pour into the earth at your command. This was how magic was supposed to feel, you were sure of it. Eventually there would be a limit, but not yet.

For hours, you stayed outside. Your one willow tree turned into a grove, with you at the center. Your mates came out to check on you, to watch, to help. Kyle coaxed you into eating, and that was the only break you took. Still, you felt no end to your power. You did, however, feel stuck. How was this supposed to help? Sure, you could command forests, but if that was enough surely the Theodric King would have been defeated long ago.

You were missing something. Something about the gift of life and death. Life made sense. It was the death part that confounded you.

As you sat down in the center of your grove, watching the sunlight fade from between its branches, you saw a shadow close to you move. "Hello, Simon," you greeted, no longer fearing the use of his name.

The wraith solidified at the edge of the trees, hesitating. "May I step in?"

"You might as well." You patted the ground next to you, where you had grown a patch of moss to keep yourself semi-dry above the snow.

Ghost sat next to you, enough distance between your bodies to prevent you from touching. He studied you, eyes nearly lit up in the growing dark. "What are you thinking about?"

Lifting a hand, you conjured a small edelweiss flower from the frozen ground. "Something the Gods said. Something about possessing the power of life and death. I can't work out what they mean, no matter how many times I turn it over in my head."

Ghost watched the flower bloom, reaching out to touch a white petal. "Perhaps they spoke metaphorically?"

"Perhaps," you murmured. "Death hardly seems like a gift, anyway. Maybe I have the power to grant death to the Theodric King." You watched Ghost's gloved fingers, the way they traced over each petal delicately before he dropped his hand slowly. "Do you think I'm ready? To face him?"

There was a beat of silence. "Alone? I am uncertain anyone could ever be ready. However, you are not alone. We will end him, Your Highness."

He was pulling title on you again, and it made you crinkle your nose. You'd never get used to it. Reaching out, you plucked the flower from the ground and placed it in Ghost's palm. "Have you ever studied the language of flowers, Simon?" He doesn't answer, so you continue. "It's quite popular with the humans, at least back in Theodric. You probably know what some flowers symbolize based on use alone. Red roses for beauty, baby's breath for everlasting love. This is an edelweiss. They were my mother's favorite. Do you know what they mean?"

His brow pinched as he studied the flower. "No."

"If I explain to you how they are usually found, I think you will understand," you said softly, pulling your legs up. "Edelweiss usually grow in high altitude areas. Mountainous regions, sides of cliffs. It's quite dangerous to collect, but for the right woman, many men risk the journey to pick them." You smiled a bit. "The act of going to pick the flowers is a sign of sacrifice and dedication, so they symbolize true love and bravery. They're not the prettiest flower, but father always said mother preferred them because of their meaning, as well as their resilience. Sometimes I wonder if she passed on her love for the flower on to me as a way to communicate that she knew having me would kill her, but she still did it. She loved me so much she sacrificed her life for me. For a better future."

Ghost cradled the flower, sliding his fingers over its form again, this time more gently. "It has a lovely meaning."

You nodded. "I think my mother loved me very much. She had faith in me, so I'm going to have faith in her. I'm going to believe that I can do this, that I'm capable of this. I won't let her sacrifice go to waste."

"You never have," Ghost said so softly you were half-sure you imagined it. A moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you before Ghost slowly rose, offering you a hand. "Come inside, Majesty. You will catch a chill."

You sighed, but gave in, taking his hand and allowing your mate to lead you back into the warm confines of the castle.

-  -  -

You learned the meaning of your seal, but that wasn't about to stop you from continuing to learn as many runes as possible. After dinner, you headed right back to the library.

Kyle and Soap sat with you for a while, making notes and doing some studying of their own. Anything that could or would help had to be explored, after all. Eventually the two had to discuss military strategy with John, and you waved them off, promising you'd head to bed after you finished up a few more pages.

Prior to Ghost's confession, you would have stayed up later into the night, but you realized he--and all of your mates--had a point about you needing rest. Though your magic felt endless, without proper rest you did begin to skim your toes along the bottom of your magic, and a bone-deep wariness settled into you.

Deciding cake would fix the issue--as it always did--you headed towards the kitchens to see if you could find anything in the ice box. As you neared the doors, slivers of light escaping the crack at the bottom of the door surprised you; Alton, or some of the other kitchen staff, were still there. They were usually finished with dishes and prep by now, but it wasn't entirely unusual to see the hobgoblin making pastries or experimenting with new dishes at this time of night.

Already grinning, you pushed into the kitchen to find the hobgoblin sitting with a glass of blue-purple wine, a plate of cheese and cured sausage in front of him. A strange scent floated in the air, and it made you frown for a moment. Something about it was familiar, yet wrong. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but before you could ponder any further Alton had hopped up and whisked away his goblet of wine and his snack plate, shoving them into the ice box.

"Your Majesty!" he squeaked out. "My apologies! Can I interest you in a late-night snack?"

The hobgoblin listed a dozen different snacks you could have, from sausage rolls to cheesecake, but you settled on a slice of chocolate cake, as always.

"Excellent choice!" he said, hurrying to pull the cake. He plated a piece for you, setting it down on a tray. "Tea too, yes? Of course yes! You love tea!"

You grinned, leaning against the counter behind you. "I do, yes. I think I'd actually enjoy a glass of wine tonight, though. What were you drinking? It looked full-bodied."

He stiffened for just a moment, and you cocked your head slightly at the strange movement. "Oh dear, that? You wouldn't enjoy it, Your Majesty! Hobgoblin special! Brewed with toadstools."

"Toadstools?" Your nose crinkled. "And you enjoy it?"

He tittered, whiskers twitching above his lips. "Of course, of course!"

"Can I try some? I'm quite curious. My father used to make some monstrosities," you laughed, moving towards the ice box.

"Oh no! No, no! No good for humans nor high Fae, Majesty!" he skittered. "Some dessert wine would go well with the cake! How about ice wine?"

Something in your training pinged. His behavior was odd. Either the wine he had had drugs or some sort of illegal substance in it, or...something else was off. Nearer to the ice box, you once more got a whiff of that strange scent. You could not place it quite yet, but your mind was not associating it with anything good.

Forcing yourself to relax, you nodded. "Oh, fine. I don't need anything reacting strange to my magic, anyway. Ice wine sounds lovely. Bring me a good vintage?"

The hobgoblin visibly relaxed before nodding, heading towards a door that lead to the cellar. The moment the door shut, you quickly made your way back to the ice box, pulling it open. It was large, storing things like milk and other foods that might go bad, though in the winter the shelves were sparse. The goblet of wine was easy to spot, sitting next to his plate of cheese and meat. The color was dark, rich, and the smell hit you like an arrow to the chest.

Why was Alton drinking unicorn blood?

A million other questions popped into your head. Where did he get it? Why did he have it? Did he have more? What did he gain by drinking something like that?

You heard his light footsteps returning though, and you quickly moved back to where you stood against the counter previously.

"Here we are!" he crowed as he held up the slim bottle of honey-colored wine. "This will do nicely, I do believe. Oh yes!" He fished out a glass, then uncorked the wine, pouring you a portion. "Here, Your Majesty! Tell me what you think!"

You smiled at him as you took the glass, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt. Carefully holding the stem of the glass, you brought it to your lips and took a long sip. It was syrupy sweet, and viscous, but absolutely delicious. You smacked your lips and nodded. "It's delicious. I bet it will go great with the cake!"

You dug your fork into the dessert and took a bite of it too, sighing out in delight. You were doing everything you could to act normally, but something in your stomach was twisting. You needed to go talk to John, to let him know about your discovery.

"I think I'll take this to bed with me," you said lightly, adding the wine glass to the tray and grabbing the bottle, too. "Thank you so much, Alton. Goodnight!"

He smiled at you but didn't respond, so you picked up the tray and turned towards the door. The action sent your head spinning, and you gasped as you felt the room sway and tilt. The tray crashed from your hands, and you gripped onto whatever you could find as your body slowly collapsed beneath you. "What..." Your tongue felt heavy, words muddled and long. "What did....you do..."

"Oh, dear," he squeaked out. "I am quite sorry, Your Highness, but you really should not have looked into the ice box!"

Your vision began blurring, spotting, warping. You could not be sure, but through your haze, you blinked at Alton. And between heavy blinks, you swore you saw not a hobgoblin, but a high Fae standing over you.

A voice sounded, much firmer, lower, and colder than anything you had ever heard from Alton previously.

"You left me no choice."

Those were the last words you heard before you met oblivion.

Chapter Text

Spring was nearing.

For the first time in what felt like ages, sunlight streamed through the windows of the castle. The sky was clear instead of its usual moody gray, and the chatter of a birds, early to return from migration, carried through the crisp morning air.

Everyone slept soundly.

Or they were sleeping soundly, until the light leeched from the castle. Dark, swirling shadows crept over every wall, every painting, every surface they could find. Cutting through the final moments of calm was Ghost, whose voice was the loudest it perhaps had ever been.

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

-   -   -

Pain. Pain pounded through your head, fiercer than anything you had ever felt in your entire life. It beat out the broken leg you suffered as a child, the sword through your shoulder, and the arrow that lodged itself into your back that one time.

Nothing beat the sharp pounding that ricocheted and reverberated through your skull as your eyes slowly worked to peel open. Each eyelid felt heavy, as if weighed down by sandbags. Once you finally worked to get them open halfway, the light caused another wave of pain so great it made you nauseous. But the light shifted, shapes slowly taking form as you took in your surroundings.

The sky was blue. Clear. You were outside, laid down on the cold ground, though near a fire that crackled and popped. Across the fire sat a male. He was leaning forward, forearms holding himself up where they braced on his knees. Blinking a few more times, you made out his features.

He was broad, large in the way so many Fae males were. His hair was black, a bit long where it fell over his eyes. His almond-shaped eyes were uplifted slightly, the color right on the fence between orange and brown. What stuck out the most was the scar that mottled the right side of his face, marring the flesh and rippling it. It exposed the right set of his teeth in a gruesome display, and you could tell just by looking that this was from being burned--burned in a way that Fae healing could not fix.

"Morning princess," he crooned, voice dark and deep. It made your skin crawl, the use of that nickname you only ever allowed your mates to use.

Coughing, you tried to find your voice. "That's 'Your Majesty' to you, vermin."

The male sneered, the expression pulling on the taut edges of his scar and making him even more fearsome. "Still going for the high ground while drugged and at your kidnapper's mercy? I cannot work out if you are brave or simply stupid."

You bared your teeth at him. Behind your back, you did your best to twist against your restraints, trying to summon. However, nothing answered you. Not one seedling. You let out a gasp of effort and realization. "What did you give me?"

The male's expression twisted into delight. "You tried to use your magic, hm? Won't work. That wine I gave you had a nice dose of iron. But you are a half-breed, so I had to take extra precautions, lest the iron not be enough. So you also got a hefty portion of ink moss. You are an earth wielder. Do you know what ink moss is?"

You did. It was a rare plant, illegal to grow and harvest for its effects in suppressing magic. It was one of the things your father taught you that had been weeded out of common knowledge in Theodric. A little wouldn't do much, but if you knew how to treat it properly, how to combine it with thorn spine and figwort...it could produce a powerful poison indeed.

"You took my magic," you groaned, feeling suddenly empty. Helpless.

"I had to, you understand." He stood, walking over to you and bending over. "Lucky for you, I've got enough saved up for another dose. Should keep you nice and powerless until we make it to Theodric."

Your heart missed a beat. "Who are you? What do you want? Do you work for the king?"

"'Do you work for the king?'" he mocked, copying your tone by pitching his voice up, much like a child. "Yes. Any other stupid questions?"

You stared at him. "Were you Alton this entire time? How did you disguise yourself like that? Are you a changeling?"

He scoffed. "No, I haven't been parading as a gods-damned filthy hobgoblin this entire time. I only took his place after it was confirmed you were in the castle. I'm no changeling, either. I come from a long, distinguished line of tiger shifters. Do not insult me, or my heritage."

Not a changeling. You licked your lips, your mouth feeling dry and sandpapery. When you tried to swallow, you winced. He could change his appearance somehow, but most glamour magic wouldn't have been strong enough to pull off the level of illusion he kept up daily. Which left only one possibility; runes. If he was working for the Theodric King, he likely received the rune from him. The same rune that allowed the king to parade as Fae when he was a mere mortal.

Your kidnapper was unhinged and dangerous, you could see that. You had no access to your powers, and you were tightly bound. You needed to be smart.

"Alright. You know my name. What's yours? I can't keep calling you Alton."

The remaining half of his lips curled. "They call me Horangi."

They? You wanted to ask more, but doubted he'd answer. So you looked up at him. "What does the king want with me?"

He threw his hands up, stalking back towards the fire. "I do not know, nor do I necessarily care. But the things he had me do to keep you from becoming powerful?" He let out a bark of a laugh. "I don't think it will be pretty, princess. You know what the king does to people who upset him?"

You did. You'd seen its many forms on multiple occasions. So you kept your mouth shut. Horangi stoked the fire, and you stared at his burnt cheek.

You'd only seen one thing capable of destroying Fae flesh like that, and you had a feeling Horangi knew better than anyone what happened to people who upset the king.

-   -   -

"I cannae believe ye never thought to investigate the bloody cook!" Soap hissed at Ghost as they went through the kitchen, searching for any possible clues.

Ghost and his shadows had been made aware first of your disappearance. As he woke, he reached for you with his shadows to check on you as he always did. When he could not find you in any of your usual places, he grew panicked. Soon the entire house woke up, and it didn't take long to realize Alton was gone, too.

"Though they may 'ave been kidnapped together," Soap mused, eyeing a wine glass left to dry with a frown.

"They would have killed him rather than take him along," Ghost nearly snapped, pausing as he pulled out a sachet of powder. He pulled it open, then frowned. "Figwort."

"Figwort?" Soap scoffed. "So? He always had strange seasonings."

There was a scuffle as Konig burst into the kitchen, breathless. "There's no blood," Konig panted, free of his mask in front of everyone for the first time. Dark circles had already settled under his eyes, and his hair was a disheveled mess. He had made an entire sweep of the house and surrounding grounds. "But I don't--I can't smell her. I can't pick up on her trail. John and Kyle are out looking but...whoever took her is good at this."

"Aha!" Soap pulled out a dark bottle, uncorking it and grimacing before thrusting it out towards the other two males. "Unicorn blood. Perhaps he's the bastard that slayed the beast."

Konig shot Ghost a sharp look, but the wraith ignored him. He snatched the bottle, sniffing it. "Why did he require it?"

"Unicorn blood has a hundred different uses," Soap said with a shrug. "Could be anything."

The wolf shifter groaned. "We don't even know if more people came in to take her, or if the hobgoblin acted alone. You two can waste time out here, but I'm going out there to find my mate." He stormed out of the kitchen, and moments later a long howl pierced the morning air.

"We need to organize and begin a full search," Ghost said with a frown. "It's unlikely they headed north with her."

Soap cast him a look. "They might be takin' the princess back to Theodric."

"It is the most likely," Ghost agreed slowly. "However, her captor will know that we are on their tail. They may choose a separate location to keep her. For now, we must search in every direction until we have a lead to follow."

"We keep searchin' until we find her," the hyena shifter said with a frown, staring at the wine glass again. He finally picked it up, lifting it to his nose and blinking. "What do ye smell, Ghost?"

Stepping closer, the wraith took the glass and lifted it to his nose. His sense of smell wasn't nearly as strong as Konig's or Soap's, but there was a sickly sweet quality to the residue left behind, along with a sharp metallic tang that had nearly been washed away entirely. The assailant was likely in too much of a hurry to wash it properly. "Iron."

"Iron," Soap confirmed with a nod. "Something else too. Think I might 'ave a guess about that figwort."

Chapter Text

Horangi was a strange traveling companion. The proper term was captor, but you were doing your best to try to talk to him, to pry out sympathy from him. It wasn't working, but you weren't about to give up.

Horangi's moods changed suddenly and violently, and often left you wondering what was happening in that deranged mind of his. Perhaps pretending to be Alton for all those months did something to him. It was likely no easy task.

Despite everything, Horangi kept you fed. He laced your food with iron and ink moss, and when you attempted to refuse the food he held you down, pinched your nose, then forced the food and water down your throat until you were choking on it. After struggling a few times, he decided to put a knife to your throat, and you gave up resisting. After all, you would need your physical strength to fight him off.

At the moment, you were on horseback. Your hands were tied in front of you, resting between your legs. Horangi was at your back, arms caging you in. His watchful eye was quick to detect any movement, and after he threatened to knock you out for the journey if you refused to behave, you also gave that up. Not entirely though--you would bide your time. You had been without your magic longer than with it. You could fight without its aid, but you needed to get more information from him, needed to wait for the right timing.

"Did you grow up in Theodric?" you asked, body swaying on top of the horse. You missed Quick Silver.

"No."

Interesting. "Thought so. I haven't heard of any tiger shifter families before. Where did you grow up, then? Where are you from?"

Horangi was quiet for a moment. "Somewhere that no longer exists."

There was an emptiness to his tone, laced through with a sad longing. You frowned. "Then how did you end up in Theodric? Why work for the king? You have to know what he is."

He scoffed. "I don't care who or what he is, princess. I work for the highest bidder, and who higher than a king?"

An assassin, perhaps. A spy for sure. Horangi was stealthy, likely his tiger traits. He could stalk through the forest without making a sound, could move like the shadows. He was adept at covering your tracks and scents, positioning every campsite downwind so the scent would carry far away. He was likely using runes to help, judging by the fresh pink lines you'd spot on his palms when he removed his gloves.

"Did the king teach you about runes?"

The male made a noise. "Are you going to keep asking me questions? Shall I supply you with another dose of night lace, or would you prefer my pommel to the back of your skull?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Look, you're the one that captured me. You're taking the long way to Theodric, so we won't make it for a while yet. If you're forcing me into your company, I thought it would be nice to learn a bit about you. You have nothing to lose--the king won't keep me alive for long."

You could hear the sneer in his voice. "No," he agreed, "I do not think he will. Alright, princess. I am happy to no longer wear the skin of that filthy creature, and am feeling magnanimous. How about I tell you a story?"

You tilted your head. "What kind of story?"

"Oh, one you will enjoy, I think. It's about one of your mates."

You tensed up. "My mates? Who?"

A humorless laugh left the male. "Your wolf shifter, of course. Konig. Only when I knew him, he went by Kilgore."

-   -   -

"There are three main routes he could have taken to Theodric," Kyle says as he points to a map splayed between the group of males. "The main route is too obvious. We would catch up to him quickly. Therefore I believe he's either taking the way down the river," Kyle's finger traced the path along the winding illustration, "or back through the forest, into the far eastern side of Theodric."

"The path by the river would make the most sense," John murmured. "Easy to cover tracks. The path through the forest has a decent amount of snow left, so their tracks would be easy to spot."

Ghost's pale eyes narrowed. "There have been no tracks. Along either side. We checked every way leading away from the castle. He did not even make noise when he took her."

"Then we split up," Konig said, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "Half of us take the river path, half take the forest. When either group picks up a trail, we send a message and proceed as one."

Soap rubbed his jaw, glancing towards John. "Yer call, Majesty."

John sighed deeply, staring at the map. A deep crease formed between his brows. "Where did he take you, Lunelle?" he murmured, mostly to himself. "What happened for him to take you now? What did you see?" He stared at the map for a few more moments before nodding once. "We will split up. Even if it takes time for us to reconvene, I have faith we can take the pathetic bastard out just fine. I would like him kept alive, but it may not be possible. Lunelle and her safety are our top priority. Nothing matters as long as we get her back."

There was a moment of silent agreement before Ghost looked around the group. "Your Majesty will go with Gaz and Soap, taking the forest path. I will go the river path with Konig--his nose will be useful."

The wolf shifter's eyes turned into thin citrine slits. "You can't possibly still be suspecting me."

The wraith cocked his head. "You need to get over yourself."

A growl rumbled through Konig's chest as he advanced on Ghost, but the latter stood his ground. The shifter pushed at the wraith. "I think you need to get over yourself. If you hadn't been such an ass and told Luney about the damn seal, she wouldn't have worked herself this hard! She would've been safely in bed with one of us! But no, you couldn't stand that, huh? Couldn't let your shriveled prune of a heart risk being rejected, right?"

Ghost's growl matched the other's. "You want someone to blame? Blame the scum that took her! You can loathe me all you wish, pup, but we have larger things to worry about right now! Our first priority is finding our mate, unless you failed to hear that part."

Konig began lifting an arm, but Kyle stepped in and grabbed Konig, tugging his arm down. "Stop it, both of you. Ghost is right, Konig; we have bigger issues right now."

"Aye," Soap drawled. "After we find the lass, we can schedule a proper death match for the two of ye. Until then, play nice."

"Perhaps Konig should go with us, and you should take Johnny," John suggested with a frown.

"Unfortunately, I suggested the split based on power levels and strengths," Ghost said, still glaring at the shifter. "The river path is longer, and Konig and I will be able to cover ground quickly. The mutt's nose will be useful, and my shadows can search the water for anything that might have made its way in. Her Majesty may have even attempted to leave signs behind herself."

There was a moment of silence, and John sighed in resignation. "Alright. Do not kill each other. I would hate for Lunelle to be put in any more stress than she already has. Are we clear?"

Ghost nodded curtly. Konig's lips pulled back from his teeth. "Crystal."

-   -   -

"How do you know Konig?" you asked, keeping your eyes forward.

"Oh, we grew up together," Horangi responded. "Old pals, really."

You didn't believe him. "Konig came to my house before he was full-grown."

Your captor let out a brief grunt. "Indeed. Because he could not possibly have existed before showing up at your doorstep like a rain-drenched puppy."

You scowled, and felt the way Horangi basked in your discomfort, so you schooled your features into something neutral. "Fine. Tell me the story, then. I'm listening."

A low chuckle vibrated against your back. "How do those old stories go? Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away lived a community of shifters. Shifters are the superior Fae. We are far more noble and worthy of power. But not many have the intelligence to realize that. So many people are pathetic, they are jealous of what we have. They see us as a threat. Do you know what happens to those perceived as a threat, princess? I bet you do. Your fate is the same."

You frowned. "They eliminate the threat."

"Very good." His lips were at your ear, and you curled your lip in disgust as you jerked your head away from him, earning another rumbling chuckle. "The kingdom I hailed from originally had this problem. Shifter families were hunted, forced to shift, and then killed and stuffed. My mother got us out before they could come for us. She carried me when I was a babe all the way to the next kingdom over. Then would you like to know what my dear old mother did, princess?" You were silent, so he continued. "She sold me. Exchanged me for coin. I was given to a group of killers-for-hire. They trained me as soon as I could stand on my own, morphed me into the perfect monster."

Taking a deep breath, you let your nails dig into the saddle in front of you. "I wanted Konig's story, not yours."

"Patience," he cooed, "we are getting there. He comes in soon, promise. I was trained to perfection. When I was nearly full-grown, I was given the task of training our youngest recruits. I despised the work, but had no choice. Many recruits were pathetic lesser Fae, and would never amount to more than vulture food. But then one day a wolf shifter showed up. I was ecstatic! Finally, a worthy pupil to train. I took him under my wing. I trained him personally, gave him advice. Why, I was practically an older brother to the pup!"

You clenched your jaw. "How did he end up there?"

"The usual." Horangi shrugged behind you. "Family was killed in a raid, I heard. He ran away--he's good at that, you know--and was picked up by one of the league. He fought well enough against them that they decided to take him in, give him a chance. It was a kindness he did not deserve." Horangi's voice was full of contempt. "I was finally given a solo job. And what did I do? I, out of the kindness of my heart, requested to take dear Kilgore along with me. What a chance I gave him! What a golden opportunity! We had a target, along with the directive to steal a document containing information regarding weapons shipments. Do you want to know how the mission went, princess?"

You couldn't tell where the story was going. Horangi harbored a great amount of disdain for Konig, that much was certain. "Did he run, then?"

"Oh, he ran," Horangi sneered. "We entered the residence and were ambushed with a dozen guards in wait that we were not informed of. I began fighting them off, while the pup made his way to the office. He took the shipment list and ran off, leaving me to fend for myself." The male rolled his shoulders behind you. "I made my way out. By the time I reached camp, Kilgore had presented the document to the league's leader and took all the credit. He was rewarded. Do you want to know what the reward was, princess?" He let out a chilling laugh. "It's the best part of the whole story! Come on now. Say it. Say you want to hear his reward."

You were stunned into silence, dread creeping up your spine and settling into your stomach. Horangi jostled you. "Say it!" he barked.

You hid your flinch. "I want to hear his reward."

Horangi hummed in satisfaction. "He was given a very important mission. He was sent to be a spy. He was told to infiltrate the household of a Theodric general, to gain his trust and whatever information he could. The information would be reported back to the league, and sold to the highest bidder."

No. Your chest felt heavy, like your heart would crack in two. "That's...that's not true. It can't be. Konig loves my father. He--he loves me."

"Does he?" Horangi crooned. "He claims to be your mate, but can you prove it? I hear half-breeds can't feel the mating bond quite so distinctly. Tell me, princess, how do you think the king learned of your prophecy? Of your movements within Alextre? Your mother did such a lovely job keeping it hidden."

You blinked. "Konig is part of my prophecy. He's one of my mates. You're just trying to fool me, to turn me against him."

"Why would I do that? I have nothing to gain, princess. Maybe he really is your mate. I wonder if that's enough to keep him by your side." Horangi stroked your hair, and you jerked away again. He laughed, shaking his head. "Do you have any idea the rewards he will reap when he returns to the league? Do you want to know what 'Konig' means in his native language? Of course you do! It means 'king', silly. He will be a king when he returns. Likely handed the entire league! Do you truly think that Kilgore would stay by your side, a shadow in your hoard of mates, when he could be a king back home?"

You refused to show Horangi the way his words, his story, affected you. "I know Konig. He would never. He'd never sell my father--me--out like that. He loves me."

"Love," Horangi spat. "What is love worth? Which do you think little Kilgore values more, princess? Love, or loyalty? I suppose we will have our answer in time. That is, if you survive long enough to see it."

Chapter Text

"I can't smell her," Konig growled out in frustration.

Ghost scowled from beneath his mask. "You cannot smell her as in she was never here? Or as in there is something innately wrong with you?"

Konig glared over at the wraith. "She has not been in this specific area. But for all we know, the bastard that took her covered his tracks and their scent somehow. I don't think we can be certain of anything right now."

"I refuse to believe that Lunelle would allow herself to be taken without a fight," Ghost said, slamming his gloved fist into a tree with a growl. "He must be keeping her sedated."

The shifter didn't respond, agreeing with the other for once. He narrowed his eyes as he swept the clearing they were in, not far from the rush of the river. The snow was slowly but surely melting away, leaving wet tufts of white against the base of trees, hugging piles of rotting leaves. All the animals were silent, flagging the two Fae males as threats and remaining hidden. Sunlight filtered through bare branches, and the scene was overall far more peaceful than either male had felt since you were taken from them.

"Let's keep going," Ghost sighed out after a moment, continuing down the path of the river.

The two continued in silence, occasionally splitting up to look for any signs of disturbed underbrush, the remnants of a camp. They were trying to be thorough while hurrying, Ghost's shadows sweeping over the land before them in a carpet of inky darkness. Konig nearly stepped in the shadow and cursed as it wrapped around him, kicking his leg free. "Keep your damn shadows to yourself."

"Do not get in their way, then," Ghost responded through his teeth.

A pair of yellow eyes cut to the wraith. "What's the real reason?"

Ghost quirked a brow, hidden by the top of his mask. He didn't deign to answer or question what the shifter meant. Konig made a noise. "The real reason you hid your mating bond from Luney. Were you just being a coward? Or did you not want her? I've been wondering." Ghost stayed quiet, though, and Konig felt the urge to send his fist into the male's jaw. "Fine. Then tell me what your problem is with me. This whole thing should have proved to you that I'm not the one who was out to get Luney. I love her. I would never do anything to harm her."

There was a beat of silence. "Call it instinct. I trust that you love Lunelle."

"But?"

"But loving someone does not mean you are immune from hurting them. I know nothing about you, which is by far the strangest. I do not let strangers around my king easily. That was enough for me to investigate you. I did not find much. But then you just had to be my mate's mate, so I dug deeper." Ghost's cool eyes trained on the shifter, watching him tense ever so slightly before forcing himself to relax.

"And? What did you find?"

The wraith cocked his head. "It's what I did not find that concerns me, pup."

-   -   -

If you had to eat one more stale piece of bread soaked in shitty vegetable broth, you were going to scream. "I suppose we're avoiding all forms of life and a nice inn or pub is off the table?" you drawled, wrinkling your nose at the steaming metal cup of broth Horangi put in your hands. The warmth was nice, but that was about it.

"Not happy being away from your feather bed and castle of luxury?" he asked with a roll of his eyes.

You didn't bother correcting him, mentioning the months you spent at war camps sleeping on the ground, covered in mud and gore. You were still unsure what to think about his story about Konig, but until you could see your mate again you allowed the information to rot in the back of your mind, though it nagged at you relentlessly. You shifted atop your makeshift seat on the ground. "At least let me hunt."

He scoffed. "No. We do nothing that leaves a trace."

"I can make you a necklace from the bones," you suggested. "Maybe lodge a few in your eyes while I'm at it."

"No."

You sighed, shaking your head. After sniffing the broth, you determined it had neither iron nor ink moss. Either Horangi was rationing out what he had, or he underestimated you. You hoped it was the latter, because you could feel a small tingle of your magic stirring just beneath your skin. Just enough for you to coax a single edelweiss flower from the frozen ground as you exited the camp, with Horangi unaware. You hoped it would survive long enough for one of your mates to find it.

-   -   -

Guilt was gnawing a gaping hole in John's chest. He barely relented when Kyle insisted they all take a break to eat something before continuing on, but John had no appetite. He just stared at the cloth spread on his lap with some cured meat and flatbread. Were you eating enough? Resting? Was he keeping you unconscious the whole journey, or were you fighting him tooth and nail to get back to them?

Kyle's eyes were the same orange as the fire he kept suspended in the air between them, wanting to avoid leaving any burnt wood or smoke to follow. He frowned. "You're no good to anyone without your strength, Your Majesty. None of us are hungry, but you need to eat for her."

"Yes, Kyle, I know," he responded with a heavy sigh. He reluctantly tore off a strip of meat with his teeth, tasting nothing. The forest was quiet, the setting sun setting everything awash in pale blue, leeching the warmth from the earth. How fitting.

"She hates the forest when it's like this," Soap said after a moment, leaning back on the stump he sat on. "Says it disturbs her and her magic." His eyes reflected against the fire. "The lass will be fine. She's a soldier. She'll hold her own until we find her."

A long silence settled over the three males. Each was lost in their own thoughts, concern for you hanging over them like an impending storm, crackling with energy. Once they found you, found the male that took you...that storm would unleash. No one in their path to you would be safe. And once they got you back, they would never let you out of their sights again.

"Do ye think Ghost will kill Konig?" Soap asked after a long time, trying to lighten the mood. "I donnae ken why the lad wouldn't trade him out for me."

John shook his head. "Ghost is suspicious of Konig. He has been since he came here with Lunelle."

"But...he never had any proof. That's what Lunelle said," Kyle pointed out with a frown on his pouty lips.

The king downed a drink of water from his waterskin. "Indeed," he said slowly. "I do believe that is his issue. Had Konig a few skeletons in his closet, Ghost likely would have felt at ease. Petty theft, a stint in gaol? Minor wrongdoings are quite easy to move past. However, Konig's past before entering the Travan household was bare."

"He was a refugee. It's not unusual for any information about his past to be unobtainable, especially if he was from a lower class family that would not have been documented," Kyle continued, not seeing the point yet.

"Nae," Soap said, leaning forward on his knees. "His Majesty is right. Even the lass doesn't know much about his life before."

John ran a hand over his beard. "It is likely nothing to worry about," he conceded. "However, I cannot fault Ghost for being cautious. I do wish he had given an ounce of that suspicion over to the rest of our household staff, but this is not the fault of one of us alone. No use playing the blame game, after all. Any secrets the rest of us are harboring will no doubt be aired out the moment we are reunited. We need to build trust, or else none of this will work. Not our rescue mission nor our plans in Theodric."

"What does this mean for those plans?" The hyena shifter took a swig of something decidedly not water. "We need to get to the lass before she reaches Theodric, but if we cannae? We'll be behind enemy lines."

"I know." John's jaw tightened. "I cannot predict the future. I am no seer. We will figure it out. Whatever happens, however we continue forward, it will be together. No rushing into things, no risks to Lunelle."

"Good luck convincing the lass of that, cap," Soap sniggered before yanking his bed roll from his pack to lay on the ground unceremoniously.

Silence descended once more as they attempted to rest.

-   -   -

You were getting closer to the border. You could tell by the shifting of flora around you, the subtle transition of species of tree and shrubs. Horangi was making impressive time, even with you purposely slowing him down by being difficult and demanding as many rest stops as possible.

Once more you sat in front of Horangi on the horse, but he suddenly slowed to a stop. His head cocked in an animalistic way, and you knew he was listening.

"Stay," he commanded as he slipped from the horse. With your hands tied and your arms tightly bound to your torso, you didn't have much of a choice. Horani prowled away from you, his feet far more silent than your horse's hooves crunching against the damp earth.

Your eyes scanned the surrounding trees, trying to find the source of his perceived threat. The birds were silent besides the distant whistle of a robin, and dug your nails into your palms, steadying your breathing to slow your heart rate.

Horangi returned after a few minutes, a frown stretching the good half of his lips. He reached for your waist, and you inwardly shuddered at his touch as always.

"Trouble ahead?" you asked with a quirked brow.

Horangi didn't reply, producing a length of rope and leveling you with a stare. Uh oh. You knew that look. Your eyes narrowed. "You're not tying me to a tree again. Either leave me on the horse or take me with you. Where are you going?"

Horangi regularly left you somewhere, usually hogtied with your mouth gagged, while he scouted the path ahead. He would be gone for varying lengths of time, and you nearly soiled yourself once waiting for him to come back. It was humiliating, especially since you knew he wouldn't let you change out of your already filthy clothes if you did wet yourself.

"Be a good girl," was all he said as he dragged you to the base of a tall maple, wrapping the rope around the trunk and your upper half, allowing your ass to sink onto the roots raising from the earth. The words, which had only ever previously been uttered to you by your mates, felt ruined coming from his twisted mouth. The male shifted into his giant, lithe tiger form in a flash of light. He was massive, all corded muscle and dark russet fur shot through with black and white. The scarring from his Fae form carried over into the tiger, the right side of his maw pulled away from his long teeth, fur missing around the marred flesh.

"Hope you get caught in a trap," you sang to him, earning a snarl in return before he bounded away.

You waited five minutes to be entirely sure that he was out of range. You never knew how long it would be until he returned, if today would be minutes or hours. Your wrists were rubbed raw by the rope binding you, scabbed over in some places from the violent chafing. You suppose you should have just been thankful he wasn't cutting your circulation off. Could always be worse. Wiggling, you struggled against the rope holding you to the tree, huffing out in frustration and how damn good this male was at knots. Your wrists burned as you twisted them, the rope and bark of the tree behind you biting into your raw skin. Fingers twitching, you reached for your magic, begging the small ember left inside of you to flare to life.

Horangi dosed you with some iron again this morning, so your reserve wasn't nearly what it had been when you woke up. But it was enough to cause the roots beneath you to roll, stretching from the ground at your bidding. You twisted your wrist even further, breathing through the pain as you twisted it so far you felt yourself reaching your limit, the joint straining dangerously close to breaking. You would break your wrist, your hand, though--if it meant getting away. You could and you would, but hopefully your remaining magic would get you out of this.

The root curled behind your back, and you did your best to wedge it between the tree trunk and rope, curling your fingers to coax leverage from the root. The rope groaned as it strained, but you continued to push. The distinct snap from the rope fibers echoed through the forest, and you tensed up. Horangi definitely might have heard that.

Swearing under your breath, you kept pushing until more and more of the rope snapped free before falling slack onto the thawing ground. Gasping that your little plan even worked, you did your best to get the root under your personal restraints, but your skin wouldn't provide leverage and allow your plan to work again. A growl sounded in the distance, so you decided to take your chances.

Hands bound but in front of you, you searched the remaining bags at your camp for the hunting knife you saw Horangi use to cut down tinder. Cutting your losses, you ran off into the forest, trying to pry the knife between your wrists as you moved. You nicked your skin in the process, but the burn from the cut barely registered as you pumped your legs, trying to get as far away as fast as you could. Horangi would likely be able to track you down, but maybe you could get to your mates first. If you could evade him for any amount of time, it would be a win.

"Fuck!" You careened over yourself as your foot caught a rock. Your Fae grace was doing nothing while you were tearing away from the tree you were left at, so you took a moment while on the ground to saw through the rope around your wrists to free yourself. The fresh air on your injured wrists felt delightful, even though the iron Horangi kept feeding you prevented your skin from fully healing. With your hands free it was easier to cut through the rope binding your upper arms to your torso, and after a few more seconds of struggle you were free. For the first time in days, you managed to get a full breath of air in, and that was enough to bolster you and get your legs moving again.

You heard branches snap behind you, and you skidded to a stop, looking around. There was no way you could outrun a tiger. What you needed to do was somehow outsmart him, attack him. If you managed to kill or maim him enough, he couldn't go after you again.

Chest heaving, you whirled. The only thing as far as the eye could see were tall gray-brown trees, empty of leaves and swaying in the light breeze sifting through the air. Your only option was to climb, so you grit your teeth and found a tree with high, sturdy branches. If you had more of your magic leftover, you could grow more branches, make a snare for the waiting tiger and trap him. But your little stunt drained you of the tiny bit of magic the iron left behind.

You gripped the tree, shoving your boot against the base and pushing up, hoping there was enough friction between your boot and the bark that you wouldn't slip until you could make it to one of the lower branches. Your wrists burned, palms aching as you gripped for dear life onto the tree trunk, pulling yourself up. Bark pushed under your nails, and at least one of them bent and ripped as you surged upwards, risking jumping the remaining distance between yourself and the branch.

Your hands caught around the thin limb, breath coming out in a whoosh of relief where you'd been unaware you were holding it. The days of travel had taken their toll, but you rallied the remaining bit of your strength to pull your body up, throwing your torso over the branch and reaching for another. Once you got your rhythm going, it became much simpler to climb, the amount of branches increasing as you worked your way up.

Knowing you would have to jump down onto the tiger later, you refrained from going too high up, knowing you'd be visible no matter what before the foliage came back to the trees. Forcing deep breaths to calm your heart so it would stop thundering in your ears, you tilted your head to listen for Horangi. The forest was deadly silent, the wind rustling the leaves in a gentle hush. Despite the lingering chill of late winter, a thin layer of sweat coated you, making the hair at your nape and temples curl and stick to your skin.

Licking your dry lips, you waited. Sure enough, a steady crunching grew closer and closer as the giant tiger tracked you. He came into view not much longer after that, finding your scent reaching a dead end. The tiger's nostrils flared, and you waited for him to find your scent on the tree, to look up.

Gripping the hunting knife, you tightened your grip on the hilt, swallowing hard. You had to focus, to make sure you positioned yourself correctly to land on him. As Horangi stalked towards the tree, powerful shoulders rolling, you bared your teeth and pushed away from the tree, right as the tiger's head lifted, teeth bared in a snarl.

You released a snarl of your own as you fell through the air, knife gripped and poised to sink into the tiger's hide. Once you hit him, everything was a blur.

There was a grunt from you upon impact, the unmistakable scent and warmth of his blood coating your hands and arms as you slashed the knife out, aiming for his neck. But worst of all was the blinding, searing pain from your ankle as you landed wrong from Horangi stepping back just enough.

A roar shook the trees, and as your vision spotted you saw Horangi, back in his Fae form, hovering over you with a murderous expression. "Stupid half-breed," he growled, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you up.

A fresh wave of pain assaulted you, making you cry out. Glancing down, you saw your ankle twisted at an impossible angle, and felt nausea grip you in a hot flash. You held onto Horangi, feeling mildly delirious and in pain.

"That's not going to heal quickly with the iron I gave you," he sighed out. "I should leave you like this to teach you a lesson. Don't you think, princess? Leave your ankle to heal just like this so the only way to fix it is break it all over again and start from the top?" A humorless laugh bled from his lips, but you were too busy forcing deep breaths in through your nose to prevent yourself from throwing up or passing out.

"I can fix it myself," you gritted out, spotting bright red against the male's clothes. It caused a savage satisfaction to sweep through you--you landed a hit. He could bleed. He could die, too.

"Stay still and bite this." Horangi shoved the handle of the hunting knife, still wet with his blood, between your teeth. "If you try to stab me again, I will keep you unconscious the rest of the way to Theodric. You're heavy, so I'd like to avoid that." His hands found your ankle, and you whimpered. Without any gentleness or warning, the tiger shifter twisted his hands and set your ankle once more, causing a fresh hell of pain to fill your veins.

You swore at the male in every language you could around the knife, your teeth aching with the force you put on the wood and leather. Horangi yanked the knife from your mouth, grazing your cheek in the process. The slight sting wasn't even noticeable around everything else your body was going through, but you glared at him all the same.

"Now that you got that out of your system..." Horangi threw you over his good shoulder, carrying you back the way you came. The way his hand brushed over your injured ankle told you he'd break it again if you tried anything, so instead you became boneless against him.

You bobbed as Horangi walked, but before you could make it back to the horse, you stretched a hand out to grow yet another little edelweiss flower, allowing the darkness to take you as soon as those pointed petals finished unfurling.