Beauty [A Faery Story 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (30 page)

Her memories of the day were vague and fragmented, but she remembered him. He’d saved her, and then he’d dumped her.

He walked down the lane as though he hadn’t just stolen into her home and taken her things. The bastard had taken her knife. She sought her memory. In those last moments when she could still speak, he’d asked about the knife and she’d told him.

“Calm down, wolf.” Bron put a hand on her new pet. “We should get answers out of him before you eat him.”

The wolf stopped and stared at her for a moment and then began to bounce up and down in apparent glee. Well, at least her new pet was on the same page. The wolf’s tail thumped against the hard dirt, and she watched her prey with anticipatory joy.

Bron wished she had a weapon of some kind. Anything really but her brand-new husbands hadn’t seen fit to arm her. They had preferred her without her clothes.

The feeling of their skin wrapped around hers assaulted her, and for a moment she could feel them. Their panic. It flared to life in her and she couldn’t breathe before she slammed the connection closed. She couldn’t afford it. No matter how nice it had been, she wasn’t going to allow herself to be used to gift the Unseelie royals with her brothers’ throne. Until she saw their dead bodies for herself, she wasn’t going to give up. She’d made up her mind to stand up and be the princess her people needed her to be.

And that started by having a little chat with Niall.

He began to walk toward the road. Bron took a step out, showing herself. At the very least she had the wolf by her side. It might make him think twice. She was going to have to come up with a suitable name for her pet since it seemed like the wolf was the only creature on the plane she could trust.

Niall started and then stopped, staring at her. “Princess Bronwyn.”

“Incredible jackass Niall.”

The wolf seemed to snort.

Niall’s face flushed. “Your Highness, there was nothing I could do. I was surrounded by Micha’s men. They would have killed me. I didn’t have an army.”

She thought about what had happened in the square. It had seemed to be a nightmare at the time, but now she could start to process what she’d seen and heard. “Neither did the man who saved me. He didn’t have an army. He just had his brother.”

Niall looked around as if expecting someone to show up. “Where is he? Who is he? It doesn’t matter, princess. We need to leave here. It was incredibly smart of you to get away and come looking for me. Your father is going to be very proud of you.”

He’d had an incredible story concerning her father. “Why should I believe you about my father?”

“Because it’s true.” He gave her a warm smile and walked far too close to her. “Princess Bronwyn, everything I have told you is true. Your father trained me to find you. He gave me explicit instructions. I’ve been searching since I became old enough to be a guard.”

“If my father is truly a sluagh, then why didn’t he search for me himself?” It was impossible to think of her rigidly polite father as an eater of the dead. The sluagh were unshriven dead, dead who refused to move on to the after.

“I believe his essence is tied to his brother’s and he cannot be free until his brother is dead.” Niall sighed. “I do not expect that you will understand any of this, princess. Just know that your father trusts me. Ask me something only he would know. He spoke of you so often. He made me memorize everything about you.”

“What did he call me as a child?” It was a secret between the two of them. Or at least her father had told her so.

“He called you his little pixie because your hair was so big he thought it looked like pixie wings when your nanny didn’t braid it. He thought your hair was half your body weight when you were a child.”

Tears pricked her eyes.
Little pixie
. It was a sweet memory. “All right, let’s say I believe you. What does he want me to do?”

He smiled, a self-satisfied look. “He wants you to follow me. He wants you to trust me. I’m going to take care of you. We’ll go to Sir Giles’s manse. He’s been looking for a person to rally behind ever since your cousin died. He’s tried several times to get ambassadors off the plane to talk to friendly vampire families. He will give us a safe place and he has a long history with the military.” Niall was silent for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. “And he will see us properly wed.”

The wolf put her head down and Bron groaned. “I am not marrying you.”

“’Tis the only way, princess. We shall marry and I will take care of the political part of this. You will need only to be your sweet self and let the people see you. It is all that is required of you.”

Her wolf growled and Bron understood the sentiment. “I want my knife back.”

Niall stared. “There is no need, princess. I will handle everything.”

“I don’t want you to handle everything. I want you to give me my knife back. And I don’t need another husband.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” His face flushed, his shoulders squaring.

Bron would have sworn her wolf rolled her eyes. “It means that I find myself wed to the princes of the Unseelie. I doubt they would be happy to share their wife. But I find myself in a small disagreement.”

“You can’t be married.”

“Oh, yes, I can. I’m bonded to them. Trust me. I feel the connection. I think they both want to murder me right about now.” She’d felt their panic, and now even though she had her shields up, she could still feel the fine edge of fear and irritation. She wondered if they could feel her willpower.

Niall huffed a little. “No one on this plane will recognize the marriage, Your Highness. They are Unseelie and obviously up to no good. We will wed, and our people will accept it.”

“Niall, I am not marrying you. And I might not know my husbands very well in this reality, but I know they will take you apart limb from limb, or rather Shim will burn you to a crisp and then Lachlan will play with your corpse.”

Not know them? How could she even think the words? She could be as mad as she liked, but she knew how they kissed and how they loved it when she wrapped her arms around them. She knew that Lach tended to take the lead, but Shim was the soft touch. Lach had always been more closed off, but once he opened up, he threw himself into everything with an almost wild abandon. The games they had played through their shared dreams when they were children had proven that. Lach would start by watching and standing to the side while Shim held her hand, but by morning Lach would run and play and scream with them. Shim liked stories. Even as they aged. As their dreams turned more physical, Shim still wanted to hear stories from her life and made-up tales.

But that was in her dreams. Dreams, not reality. Reality was Torin killing half the plane. Reality was she was the last of her line still living on the plane, and she couldn’t chase after her dreams.

Niall took a long breath. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get you to Sir Giles’s province. I sent word that I was bringing you.”

“Did you? And how were you going to explain my absence?” As far as Niall had known, she was a heap of ashes in the town square.

He flushed a little. “That’s why I needed the knife.”

“You were going to find someone to take my place. I’m not sure my father would approve.” Of course she also knew how deeply ruthless her father could be. She doubted that becoming a corpse-eating ghost had softened him much. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult to find someone with the Finn coloring. And if father taught you, then you could perhaps teach her how to do a halfway decent impression of me. After all, no one has seen me since I was a child.”

He reached out for her hand. “I was doing what it took to secure the throne and get rid of Torin so your father has a chance to be free and your brothers a shot at coming home.”

She avoided his touch. It wasn’t a horrible plan.

“Well now you don’t need to. You have me.” Her course was set. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving them. She’d just discovered her Dark Ones, but the only thought that hurt worse than leaving was the idea of staying and discovering all the ways they planned to use her.

Niall settled his pack on his shoulder. “You need to change. We’ll have to pose as husband and wife travelling to market or looking for work, but people will ask about that dress. It’s too nice to travel in, and it looks as though it got singed. Come on. Let’s go inside and get you ready. You can pack up some small items. It should be two days’ walk to Sir Giles’s.”

He turned and walked back up to the tower. Bron followed. She knew she was placing a lot of faith in a man she barely knew, but her father sent him, and she would fare better with a pretend husband than on her own.

“I’ll be quick.” Bron rushed up the stairs, already pulling at the ties of her dress. The wolf shuffled up behind her, utterly ignoring Bron’s command to stay. She opened the door to her small room and let the wolf in. “You only listen when you want to.”

Bron quickly crossed to her dresser and pulled out travelling clothes. Suede pants and a big blousy shirt. Comfortable clothes.

“I suppose you won’t let me eat him now. No one ever does.” A feminine voice had Bron shrieking.

She turned and there was a naked female on her bed. She was slight, petite, and graceful with huge brown eyes and a mass of wavy, sun-kissed brown hair. And the wolf was nowhere in sight. A shape-shifter? A hag could shift.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not a hag. Everyone always assumes I’m a hag. Meg says I’m a werewolf which is much better than what Dante calls me. Shanimal. Silly name and a silly man.”

Dante? “Dante Dellacourt? My cousin?”

The woman smiled, a bright thing that lit up the room. “Your cousin, my husband. I think that makes us family, Bronwyn. Or should I call you princess? Your brothers are very informal.”

Tears welled. Where there had been terror only a moment ago, a reluctant hope swelled inside. “My brothers?” She was talking to a naked wolf woman who claimed to be her cousin by law. It was all too much. “I find it very convenient that you suddenly know my brothers.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “I do not suddenly know Beck and Cian. I have known them for awhile now. At first I think Beck feared that he would have to slay me. It’s a good thing he did not try. I would have taken a chunk out of his hide. And Megan would have been very distressed. She likes me. She’s my cousin, too. It is good to have family. Although my family is very odd. I like you. You’re different. You seem to understand the necessity to be a bit brutal with your enemies. Which brings me back to my original point. I think you should allow me to eat that man. He is going to get you in trouble.”

Bron ignored the fact that the slender woman seemed deeply preoccupied with eating creatures. “Who is Megan?”

“Megan is the Queen.”

“My brothers bonded?” Torin had done everything he could to ensure his brothers couldn’t find a proper bondmate. She’d heard rumors that great battles were being fought in the arena when a bondmate could be found. The rumors had it that vampires and refugee Fae would fight to the death in an attempt to possess one.

The woman nodded, a small smile on her face. “A true bond. Your brothers have ascended into their powers. Beckett Finn is a Storm Lord and Cian a Green Man. Though he is not actually green. He is normal looking. I am told the title should not be taken literally.”

Beck and Cian had formed a true triumvirate. It was beyond imagining. “I can’t believe it.”

“They came into their powers a few months ago when they found Megan. As the Unseelie twins ascended into theirs when they bound to their perfect mate.”

“Me.” She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she knew it was true. It was right there, that invisible thread that she’d always thought of as an inward sign of her own insanity. She’d never seen it for what it truly was—the bond between mates. And not just any mates. Symbiotic twins. She bridged them, giving them access to the other half of their soul. And apparently giving them powers. “Shim is a Fire Lord.”

“I think I heard the word pyromancer used. And necromancer for Lachlan.”

Lord of the Dead. Heat and Cold. Two halves of a whole and she’d felt both powers skimming through her system. “Why are you here? Where is Dante? Where are my brothers for that matter?”

Her family. She needed her family. They would help her sort everything out. They would talk to her and make things right. Oh, she longed to see her brothers once more.

“Dante is back in the village. I followed you because I thought you might need some time to think about everything that has happened. I was told you were given the fire drug. I know how it feels. It is terrible and yet there was something wonderful about that first night with my Dante.”

Terrible and wonderful. That was a good way to put it. She’d already forgotten the pain, but not the rolling need that had threatened to boil over. She could still remember how it felt to be one with them. To have Lach deep inside her pussy and Shim’s mind binding to hers as he fed. In those moments, she hadn’t been alone. She’d been loved and whole, and it had all been a lie.

“What’s your name?” If she was telling the truth, then Bron had been terribly rude.

The woman straightened up, her chin coming up in a polite greeting. “Kaja. I am Kaja Dellacourt. I am your cousin, and I would like to be your friend.”