A Strange Hymn
Page 5

Des steps away from the fairy.
“Wait, wait—” The messenger says as the creature nears him. “Don’t go.”
This makes Des’s lips quirk, though his eyes are as hard as ever.
Cruel Des. Dark Des. I’m catching an elusive glimpse of the beast behind the man.
The Fauna fae is still trying to move, but it’s like his lower legs are glued to the floor. “I’ll make a deal,” he says, his eyes pinned to the shadowy creature heading his way.
I’ll make a deal.
Des’s shoulders stiffen at the temptation, but he ignores the fairy.
The creature is only mere feet away.
“Please, anything!”
For a fairy who had enough courage to threaten a fae king in his own court, he sure is quick to fall apart. I don’t know what he was expecting would happen. Des doesn’t bend to other people’s wills. He’s the force that contorts and crushes them. I’ve seen it happen time and time again with his clients.
The Bargainer heads back for his throne, his face steely. His eyes find mine, and they flicker as they take me in. That might be the closest he comes to regret in this moment. And then the look is gone, and he’s made of stone once more.
There’s a darkness in this man, and I’ve yet to plumb its depths.
The shadow closes the last of the distance to the Fauna fairy, moving over his feet. The messenger’s ankles begin to disappear, then his calves.
That’s about when the screaming starts.
Des mounts the steps to his throne and takes a seat next to me, all while the bog continues to swallow the fairy.
I dig my fingernails into my seat as I hear the man’s cries. I have every reason to enjoy the justice of this moment, but now that the Fauna fae looks less like a villain and more like a victim, I find I can’t.
I don’t want to sit here and watch this. It’s too inhuman, too fae, too wicked. All at once it becomes too much.
I get up and, amongst the screams and the stares, I leave the room.
No one stops me.
Chapter 4
I stand out on the balcony connected to Des’s royal suite, the night sky glittering above me. After leaving his throne room, I wandered the palace grounds for a bit before eventually finding my way back here.
Far below me, I can make out fairies coming and going across the palace grounds. Beyond them is the city of Somnia.
I don’t know how long I’ve been leaning over the railing, watching this terribly foreign world pass me by. Long enough for me to question just about every life decision that led me here.
“Tell me cherub, do I scare you?”
I glance over my shoulder. Des stands at the threshold to the balcony, his predatory eyes glittering. He stares at me like I’m the dangerous one.
I don’t answer right away, instead choosing to simply watch him. He steps out onto the balcony, still wearing—like me—his training leathers from earlier.
He appears half wild, the moonlight carving his face into sinister shapes. He looks like he wants to devour my soul.
Does he scare me?
“Yes,” I say softly.
Despite my words, he comes closer. And I’m glad he does. Scaring me hasn’t stopped me from wanting him. Our relationship was forged on bloodshed and solidified through deception. I am the dark creature that craves sex and destruction, and he is the king of it.
When he gets close enough, he places a hand on the back of my neck and pulls my forehead to his, not kissing me but simply holding me to him.
“Truth,” he says, “does this change things for you?”
I feel his magic delicately wrap itself around my windpipe. His question is vague, which is so unlike him, but nonetheless I understand what he’s asking.
“No,” I say, my voice hoarse.
Maybe it should change things for me. It feels like I’ve just conceded a little bit of my soul. But Des has been collecting pieces of my soul since the night I took my father’s life. As far as I’m concerned, he can have it; I know he’ll take good care of it.
Des’s stance doesn’t change, but I swear I feel him relax. He smells like sweat and the sweet night. My terrible king. My mysterious mate.
His thumb strokes my cheek, and for several seconds neither of us speak.
Cruel Des. Dark Des. My Des.
“What was that thing?” I finally ask.
“The bog?”
I nod against him.
He straightens, pulling away without letting me go. “It’s a sentient nightmare. It eats fairies alive, subjecting them to their worst fears as it digests them.”
A shudder courses through me at the thought. “That’s horrible.”
It’s his turn to nod, his face somber. “It is.”
And yet it hadn’t stopped him from unleashing it on one of his enemies. Even now he doesn’t look regretful.
He’s a fairy. What did you think you were getting yourself into when you decided to be with him?
I run my fingers through my hair, emotionally and physically exhausted. The training leathers I’ve been wearing all day are sticky and chafing in places they really shouldn’t be.
“I want to go home,” I say.
I’m tired of my wings and perpetual night. I’m tired of being surrounded by monsters and feeling powerless against them. Most of all, I’m tired of living in a world that doesn’t have Netflix.
Des’s eyes soften. “I know.”
“You haven’t offered to take me home.” This comes out more accusingly than I meant.
“You haven’t asked,” he responds as smoothly as ever.
“If I did ask for you to take me home, would you?”
The Bargainer’s jaw tightens, and for a second I see something alien in his eyes. Something predatory and very fae-like.
And then it vanishes.
He nods. “I would.”
We both fall silent, and I know he’s waiting for me to ask him exactly that—to take me home. If only wanting could make something true. But I can’t leave, not as I am. If Des dutifully took me back to earth, I’d still be a human with wings and scales and claws.
“Where do we go from here?” I ask hopelessly.
Des’s mouth curves up. “You seem to be under the impression that you don’t still owe me a great deal of favors—”
There is that.
“—or that you happen to be my mate.”
There is also that.
He takes my hand and leads me back inside his rooms.
“But, as far as where we go from here, I’d say for starters that we get you a bath.”
I crack my first smile of the evening. “Look who’s talking.” I swear boy sweat is at least twice as stinky as girl sweat. I’m pretty sure it’s a scientific fact.
Des releases my hand. “Is that an invitation?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re the Lord of Secrets—I think you can figure that out for yourself,” I say.
His eyes brighten with mischief.
While he looks at me like I’m the most delicious macaroon he’s ever laid eyes on, I reach around my back and paw uselessly at the training leathers I wear. For what feels like forever I’ve been trying to unfasten the ties that crisscross my back and hold the leather bodice in place, but I can’t quite reach it—
Des’s warm hands brush mine away, turning me around and unlacing the ties. Each graze of fingers feels like a kiss. Suddenly, my heart’s thundering all over again, and the humorous moment we were having is replaced by something that smolders like embers over a fire.