《The Fae Queen's Pet》


 Chapter One

    Run. Keep going. It was all I knew right now. They were coming, and I just had to keep running. It wasn¡¯t as though I was a poor runner. The wolf inside me quite enjoyed it normally. But this was different running. This was survival. Because the men that were after me were out for blood.


    Sure, they wore badges, and I had no doubt I¡¯d end up in a jail cell before midnight still breathing, but the hours between now and then were long, as was their desire for revenge. I¡¯d taken something from them, and I¡¯d no doubt they intended to rob me of something as well.


    The crunch of leaves beneath my boots echoed between the trees, and I could hear them closing in.


    ¡°She¡¯s running deeper into the woods. Don¡¯t let her get away,¡± a man yelled about 200 yards behind me. That would be Sheriff John Watley, a real pig of a man and my father¡¯s best friend. Ex-father now, I suppose.


    My lungs were reaching for every shred of air they could take in. How long since I started running? Half an hour since I crashed the little Dodge Neon I¡¯d stolen from my dad¡¯s house, perhaps.


    The woods were thick here, northern red oaks, leaves all but depleted and dropped to my level by now, red and brown remnants of a season gone by. Leaves always started changing colors in the County weeks ahead of their counterparts in southern Maine.


    Endurance played its role another 15 minutes, and I heard the sheriff falling behind now. Maybe I¡¯d caught a lucky break. Then again, how lucky a break could a girl get running off into the wilderness with no supplies? Even if I outran the sheriff and his deputies, I¡¯d be facing nothing for several miles, at least until I crossed the Canadian border.


    Above me, I heard the caws of crows, or was it ravens? Even with my sensitive hearing, I couldn¡¯t quite tell the difference. But the birds didn¡¯t matter. The chase did, my escape did. It was this or jail ¡ª well, probably a beating, maybe some sexual assault, and then jail, if I was being practical. Between the former and the latter, show me the woods, baby.


    When I couldn¡¯t hear the sheriff or his men behind me anymore, I stopped to catch my breath. Even for a girl with a wolf living inside her, I had my limits. Still, the full moon was four nights ago, and it¡¯d be another few weeks before I had the full strength of my inner wolf again.


    Okay, maybe I¡¯ve finally left them behind, I thought, kneeling at the edge of a creek. My face was covered in sweat and grime. My jeans were caked in mud and a few leaves here and there. The denim jacket, doing its best to keep me warm against late autumn¡¯s chill, wasn¡¯t in much better shape. Beneath the jacket, my heart beat like a jackhammer, ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump.


    Taking deep breaths, I tried to work the wheezing out of my lungs. But it¡¯s hard when they¡¯re being bitten by crisp County air.


    How far from Allagash was I now? Ten miles? Fifteen?


    ¡°Not enough,¡± I muttered, finally starting to calm down.


    My legs throbbed. The sheriff didn¡¯t exactly give me any time to stretch before I darted into the woods. All I heard was ¡°arrest warrant,¡± and I bolted.


    Splashing some water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the creek as the water slowly settled. A girl with untamed brown wavy hair looked back at me, her eyes an inhuman reddish brown. My skin could use a tan, but it hadn¡¯t seen Arkansas sun in years. I used to darken considerably under summer sweat built up in the Ozarks. But here? I was pale as the sour cream I covered my nachos with.


    What future did I have left to me at this point? Murder charge at 21 and fleeing into the woods? I suppose that left me with a few viable career paths. Hermit, sage, druid, outdoor yoga instructor? Maybe I could open up a nature retreat under a new name. I¡¯d be Sierra Chelsi no more. Maybe Robin Thistle or Summer Pond, some hippy name to sell the scam.


    I traced the scar that ran down the bottom left side of my chin and wondered if I could come up with some mystical story about it to sell my new yoga instructor identity. But not so mysterious they¡¯d suspect me of manslaughter.


    Just as my heart settled into a somewhat normal rhythm, a noise stirred it right back up again. I flinched hard hearing the revving of a four-wheeler engine closing in from where I¡¯d previously ditched the sheriff.


    A long sniff of the air told me they¡¯d brought in reinforcements by way of two German shepherds to track me down.


    ¡°Just fucking leave me alone, already! I won. Cut your losses and go home,¡± I snarled, knowing he wouldn¡¯t do that.


    ¡°C¡¯mon out now, Sierra. The dogs are here, and it hurts like hell when they bite. If you keep running, this chase will end with their teeth ripping into the skin on your legs,¡± I heard a new man¡¯s voice yell about 50 yards behind me.


    That would be Deputy Jason Pierre. He¡¯d transferred to the Aroostook County Sheriff¡¯s Division about two years ago after facing some domestic misdemeanors across the border in New Hampshire. Funny how he could just pop on over to a different state and have the same job and pay.


    Next to John, Jason was my father¡¯s next best friend. Both men knew what my father did to me and let him carry on for years. Far as I was concerned, they could drop dead of heart attacks or strokes any day now.


    But if I wanted to live to see their demise as a free woman, I needed to haul serious ass. Groaning, I launched myself over the creek. My ankle popped in a few places, but I landed with all the grace of a canine with killer instincts and was off again.


    Shit was I tired. And those ravens in the trees above me just wouldn¡¯t shut up. The cawing only continued to get louder, as did the dogs barking and four-wheeler revving.


    A few minutes later, I knew they¡¯d passed the creek I¡¯d just washed up in. Fuckers were closing in, and I didn¡¯t have much fuel left. The last thing I¡¯d eaten was a day-old sausage biscuit and some shitty Dunkin coffee from a machine well past its prime. And that was about 14 hours ago.


    My head swam in sweat and adrenaline. The thoughts weren¡¯t pretty. I wondered who would start first, John? Jason? Maybe they¡¯d let Sam have a few minutes with me before they took their turn.


    I tripped and fell over a mound of some kind and went tumbling down a steep incline. My shoulder slammed into a tree stump, and I cried out in pain. How far down the hill did I roll? Fifty feet? Seventy-five? There was no way for me to be sure.


    Get up! I screamed in my head, but my body wasn¡¯t eager to respond. I¡¯d driven it to the brink of exhaustion, probably past it. If I didn¡¯t have an inner wolf, I¡¯d have passed out halfway through this run with the pace I¡¯d carried on with.


    Opening my eyes, it took several seconds for my vision to clear, and I realized my face was about three inches in front of a wild blueberry bush, barren this time of year. More cawing around me. Maybe the birds had picked it dry. I¡¯d wager big money they had. . . if I possessed any big money, of course.


    I moved my arms, pushing myself upright. My left shoulder throbbed like a bitch, but I didn¡¯t think the damn thing was out of its socket at least.


    It¡¯s the small blessings, I thought, rolling my eyes. That was a mistake. It just made me dizzier as I almost fell back onto the bed of brown leaves and abandoned pine needles.


    Back over the hill, I heard that damn four-wheeler again. Would they be this determined with any other criminal? No, it had to be personal, had to be. Two men on child porn charges had already escaped jail, and the sheriff¡¯s efforts to recapture them could be generously described as meager.


    A glance around revealed I¡¯d stumbled into some kind of clearing, with no trees around for at least 20 feet. All of these trees were oaks, but one in particular with no lower branches caught my eye. I saw it was populated with at least 20 ravens. Or maybe my head still spinning, and I was seeing doubles and triples.


    If I made it to Canada and got some of that inexpensive health care I kept hearing so much about, maybe I¡¯d look into whether I had a concussion from my tumble.


    The birds stopped cawing and shrieking as a shadow emerged from the trunk of the tree. The shadow appeared to be made of hundreds of dancing black and gray feathers, not quite falling, but neither rising into the air.


    Wiping my eyes, I watched a tall form appear out of the shadow, a seamless transition, one second absent, the next present. My jaw dropped a few inches as the tallest woman I¡¯d ever seen in my life materialized from the darkness.


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    Dark leather armor covered her upper body with a black feathered cloak draped across her shoulders. Long, obsidian silky hair blew in the wind as she took a solid form. The breeze carried around us as if celebrating the presence of this otherworldly beauty that appeared from nowhere.


    I felt my heart skip a beat, maybe two. There was something unnatural about how her violet eyes honed in on me, barely holding myself up on the forest floor. Sunlight in the clearing appeared to dim in the presence of this woman, but it didn¡¯t take my eyes long to account for that.


    Listening to my breath, full of disbelief, I noticed a modest silver crown perched upon the woman¡¯s head. And again, I noted how far I had to look up at her. She must have been seven feet tall. Meanwhile, I had trouble hitting five-and-a-half feet tall in my boots.


    My eyes moved down to look at the armor again, and I saw a black bird with its wings outstretched, head pointed upward, beak open as if crying out into the night.


    And then the woman spoke with a tenor voice, her knee-high boots crunching in the leaves as she took a step toward me.


    ¡°Well well, my birdies were right. Something interesting has invaded my woods,¡± she said, a small smile forming on her lips.


    The woman¡¯s gaze appraised the apparent mess that¡¯d stumbled into her clearing ¡ª no ¡ª her woods. It was then I noticed the tips of her ears were pointed, and my heart skipped perhaps three more beats.


    Mom used to warn me about running into unfamiliar woods before, I thought. Now I¡¯ve gone and brought out a faerie.


    ¡°Won¡¯t you give me your name?¡± the woman asked, taking another couple of steps closer and kneeling before me. She ran a finger under my chin and raised my gaze to hers. When her touch met my face, it was shockingly cold. My skin tingled with one finger under my chin, and I began to wonder what two or three fingers might feel like before shaking my head out of her grasp.


    ¡°I ¡ª no. You may not have my name,¡± I stammered, starting to feel myself get swept away into her gaze. This felt like a trap of the most devious kind, and she hadn¡¯t even spoken 20 words to me yet.


    Her smile remained despite my answer.


    ¡°Clever little wolf, aren¡¯t you? Methinks someone warned you about us,¡± she almost whispered.


    What if she was whispering things into my ear? I thought, before shaking my head again. Why the fuck was I thinking like this? I had an escape to make good on.


    On that note, I heard John shout, ¡°Someone check out that hill!¡± Then those barking dogs again. The ravens all stared down at me. They weren¡¯t afraid of K-9 units, and neither was the woman before me.


    ¡°Tisk tisk. Our time grows ever shorter, well your time anyway. Human authorities drove you into my forest, did they?¡±


    I looked down at the ground, not out of fear, but to think clearly. Her gaze had all but ensnared me.


    ¡°They¡¯re chasing me,¡± I hissed.


    The woman looked back up the hill before looking at me again.


    ¡°I could offer you sanctuary, you know? Steal you away so the lawmen wouldn¡¯t find you,¡± she said, tapping a finger on the top of my head. My shoulders dropped, and I wondered if I asked nicely if this kind woman who¡¯d emerged from the shadows under several ravens would play with my hair.


    Goddamit, focus! I thought. You can¡¯t keep getting lost in these thoughts.


    This woman was offering to. . . what? Hide me? Where, in the tree she¡¯d emerged from? That was bonkers. Then again, so was turning into a wolf under the full moon.


    ¡°I doubt you¡¯d do so out of the goodness of your heart. It¡¯s a bargain you want, right?¡± I asked.


    The woman moved her face closer to mine and calmly stroked the left side of my hair. Fuck, this was dangerous. I needed to be running, but, oh please, just a few more hours of this. God, I loved it when girls played with my hair.


    Without warning, my head turned to the side, pushing against her nails, and a soft sigh escaped my lips. The fae continued to stroke my hair.


    I really am going to be captured, aren¡¯t I? I thought. But I found it so difficult to raise the alarm. My breathing slowed, and I felt like I was suddenly crouched on a cloud.


    ¡°You¡¯re a touch-starved little thing, aren¡¯t you?¡± she asked, and I somehow mustered the will to pull away from her touch.


    ¡°What I am is a killer,¡± I said, the clearing finally coming to a stop. I hadn¡¯t realized it¡¯d started spinning. ¡°Would you knowingly offer sanctuary to a murderer?¡±


    ¡°Darling, my queendom is filled with killers, including red caps who bathe their hats in the blood of victims every few days. If murder barred people from my court, those who remained would be few that they couldn¡¯t even fill the seats around my dining room table.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at that response.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked.


    She stood and helped me to my feet. It only served to highlight the vast height difference between us.


    ¡°I am Varella, The Raven Queen. And you, my little wolf, are running out of time,¡± she said.


    My ears pricked, and I knew she was right. Those K-9 units were chomping at the bit sniffing up the opposite side of the hill.


    ¡°What are you asking in exchange for sanctuary?¡± I asked.


    The queen¡¯s grin expanded quite a bit at that.


    ¡°To steal you away into my queendom and hide you from the mortal authorities? Well, normally I wouldn¡¯t make such an offer. I don¡¯t like interfering with human law. I find it dull and tedious to navigate,¡± she said.


    ¡°But?¡± I pressed her.


    ¡°But,¡± she said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. ¡°I find myself in a particular mood, and I want a new pet. Imagine my surprise when a little wolf comes tumbling down the hill as if the universe itself was making an offering. So how about it, darling? Do you want to be my pet?¡±


    Pulling my hands away from hers, I shook my head. This was insane! I was a person, and the bird queen was talking about me as though she was going down to the animal shelter to pick out a new furry friend. Fuck that. Under the full moon, I was twice the size of a timber wolf and tore through the woods as though they were my own. I was nobody¡¯s pet.


    The four-wheeler was almost to the top of the hill now. I could hear that little engine straining under John¡¯s weight. He wasn¡¯t the smallest man around.


    ¡°Make your choice, little wolf. Be my pet with a spot in the palace, or find yourself in a jail cell in the hands of your dead father¡¯s friends,¡± she said.


    How the hell did she know about my father? I thought. But the sound of German shepherds barking at the top of the hill shattered any will to run down that path of questions.


    ¡°What would being your pet entail?¡± I asked, doing a double take at the dogs and then back to her. The four-wheeler was so damn close now.


    ¡°Over here! I think they¡¯ve found her. Maybe she¡¯s hurt or something,¡± the sheriff yelled, and to add more terror, I heard the sound of at least four other men, feet stomping on sticks and over stones as they ascended the hill.


    The queen put a hand on the top of my head again.


    ¡°Who knows? It¡¯s a surprise, and I think that¡¯s half the fun. Maybe I¡¯ll have you do tricks for me. Maybe I¡¯ll see how well you¡¯ll fare in the Great Hunt. Or maybe I¡¯ll just scratch your head for hours on end until you dissolve into a pile of contentedness you¡¯ve never had before in your life,¡± she said, running her nails through my hair again.


    Oh god. . . I¡¯d agree to anything if that last thing she said was part of the deal. Somewhere between her talking and scratching my head, I¡¯d sunk to my knees, eyes closed and shoulders were drooping even further.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I whispered. There was a small voice in the back of my head shrieking at me to just stand up and bolt. Run as fast as my legs would carry me. You never make deals with the fae. You don¡¯t look at them. You don¡¯t talk to them. They¡¯re always quick to rope you into their schemes and pranks. Don¡¯t fuck with the fae, my mother had always warned.


    But this just felt so good. How dangerous could it be?


    ¡°You accept the terms of my bargain? I¡¯ll need you to say it,¡± Varella said, scratching even faster, though not harder.


    Another sigh escaped my lips.


    ¡°Say what?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Your name and that you accept the bargain,¡± the queen whispered in my ear.


    What did I care? I was kneeling on a cloud again, my head swimming in relaxation and pleasure. Maybe I was a little touch-starved. But fuck it. I¡¯d take my chances. Maybe I¡¯d regret it later, but that wasn¡¯t now. Now was just happy and cozy here on the forest floor, surrounded by the smell of oak trees and the promise of winter to come.


    ¡°I, Sierra Chelsi, accept your bargain. I¡¯ll be your pet,¡± I muttered, dreamily. It almost didn¡¯t feel real. Did I hear the words I¡¯d just spoken? Who knows. I guess the queen knew.


    Somewhere in the distance, I heard John shout, ¡°I think I see her! She¡¯s at the bottom of the hill. Let the dogs go.¡±


    Magic swirled around us in the wind as the queen¡¯s aura swallowed me whole. I heard a rush of feathers as though the ravens were flying around us. Hundreds of them. And yet, I heard the queen¡¯s whisper cut gently through the breeze.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to mark you. It might feel a little cold,¡± she said.


    I just nodded slowly.


    Varella lowered her painted lips to the side of my neck and blew gently. I felt a patch of cold air growing on my skin and resisted the urge to rub my fingers against it. Out of the cold, a tingling sensation filled my neck, and then she pressed her lips against my skin. I shivered and closed my eyes.


    Her magic wasn¡¯t just swirling around me now. It flooded up into my mind and down into my heart so fast I thought a flash flood warning would have to be issued.


    My ears picked up on a small click, barely perceptible, as though a lock had snapped into place over my heart.


    And I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, deep within the core of my being I was hers now, the Raven Queen¡¯s new pet.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you to your new home,¡± the queen said, lifting my limp body with shocking ease. But I wasn¡¯t shocked anymore. I was sleepy, beyond that, actually. So, as I descended into weightless slumber, the last thing I heard was John cursing.


    ¡°Where the fuck did she go?¡±


    And if I¡¯d been conscious, I¡¯d have asked that myself. Where was I going? To the palace of the Raven Queen, I guess, to serve as a royal pet or some such. I¡¯d find out how much trouble I was in when I awoke. But until then, I was curled up in a pile of contentedness.

 Chapter Two

    In my dream, I saw him. That fucker stood before me holding a belt or a book or whatever happened to be within my father¡¯s reach when he descended into one of his frenzies. His eyes bloodshot, his breath saturated with the cheapest whiskey he could buy on a jailor¡¯s salary.


    My father wasn¡¯t a tall man, standing maybe a few inches above me. His black hair had been shedding for years, but he refused to shave it, doubling down that vitamins were gonna ¡°win it all back,¡± as though hair was something won and lost in a card game.


    I always remembered how cold his green eyes were. There just didn¡¯t seem to be much there, aside from thirst for liquor and putting in his hours at the county jail, always working overtime without complaint. Sometimes he¡¯d watch tv after work and fall asleep in his chair. Once in a while he¡¯d mow the lawn or try to repair our mailbox, which seemed to be trapped in a purgatorial state between entirely busted and somewhat fixed, at least until the next storm came through.


    The man¡¯s wardrobe was simple enough. Gray sweats around the house and on rare trips to the grocery store. A black uniform at work that was constantly losing ground to his gut. A few of his knuckles were broken before he met mom, and they never quite looked right after they healed, scarred, and darkened on his right hand. Father was missing a couple of teeth on his upper right side. Never showed any interest in getting them replaced after the car crash where his jaw got intimate with a steering wheel.


    Crashed his squad car after drinking a little on his lunch break, and the biggest punishment they could give him was taking away his badge and gun, and putting him on jail duty. A local reporter wrote about it in the paper, and since dad couldn¡¯t make his life miserable, I won his wrath the morning it was published.


    He stood over me, and it never seemed to matter how old I got. The beatings continued. And it didn¡¯t matter who found out. The beatings continued. Through tears, through pleas, through one or two attempts to stand up for myself, the beatings continued.


    I¡¯d never regret killing the bastard. Hell, I¡¯d kill him again 1,000 times. The utter look of bewilderment in his eyes as I dissolved into a cloud of thick gray smoke and reemerged as a vicious beast craving his heart. Felt good. The best I¡¯d ever felt.


    Nobody on the planet knew his final words but me. Nobody knew his final expression, either. I¡¯d carry them with me until the day I inevitably saw him on the other side.


    Mom told me once, when I was a little girl, that everyone walks the same path into the world after this one. We were at a cousin¡¯s funeral deep in the Ozarks, a little north of Jasper.


    I¡¯d asked what happened after people died. At seven, the concept was new to me. She said our burdens dissolved, and a single path appeared before us in a world of twilight. And we walked it to an eventual destination based on our deeds in life.


    Surely, by now, my father had arrived at his destination, and I had no shortage of hope that it was filled with pain and misery as he¡¯d inflicted on me in life. As for my destination, I¡¯d find out soon enough what I¡¯d won in place of a jail cell.


    I don¡¯t know how long I slept, only that a haziness remained in my mind for quite some time after I opened my eyes. My nose started processing things before any other sense. But that was typical. My inner wolf lived by scent first, then sound, and finally vision and taste. And the damn queen wasted no time figuring out how I felt about touch.


    A few scents stood out as my eyes tried to function again. There wasn¡¯t anything wrong with them. They just seemed to be taking a little longer than usual to wake up.


    But my nose told me incense was burning nearby, the scent of pine and sage. A window sat not far from whatever I was lying on, birds cawing here and there as they moved from trees to the grass then back to the trees. More ravens, it seemed.


    The door opened. Soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. Then a familiar face entered my vision, my queen.


    Chill spread through the right side of my neck as she hovered over me.


    That¡¯s where she marked me, I thought. Wonder if it¡¯ll do that every time she¡¯s near like Sting did for the orcs.


    I guess the Raven Queen to whom I¡¯d sold myself was about to inform me what duties being her ¡°pet¡± entailed. I was not eager to find out.


    ¡°My, my. Such a storm of thought that must be going through your head,¡± she said.


    And, to my chagrin, I found myself hanging on her every word. I didn¡¯t care about the birds outside or whoever was walking down the hallway beyond this bedroom¡¯s door. The queen had my full and undivided attention as if a supernatural grasp had grabbed my chin and pulled it gently in her direction.


    Sitting up, I groaned and touched the side of my neck, which was still quite cold. My fingers found a chill of their own upon touching it.


    ¡°How long have I been out?¡± I asked, finally founding my voice, groggy as it sounded.


    ¡°Through some combination of your emotional and physical exhaustion, you¡¯ve been out for a full day. I¡¯m sure my magic entering your system played a part as well,¡± the queen said, sitting down next to me on a purple quilt spread across the bed.


    Four wooden poles, one each corner of the frame, surrounded me and revealed this to be a canopy bed, with matching purple curtains tied back to my left and right.


    The walls of the room were painted a dark blue with tiny feathers carved into the crown molding. In addition to the bed, a writing desk, a makeup table with a large mirror, and an armoire, all heavy wooden furniture filled each wall around me.


    One door led outside to a hallway where the queen entered from, and on the opposite wall, another door led to what I assumed was a washroom. In all, the bedroom was bigger than the living room in my father¡¯s house, where I¡¯d been forced to live from middle school to my 21st birthday a few weeks ago.


    ¡°On a scale of one to 10, how fucked am I?¡± I asked, turning back to the queen. She cocked her head to the side.


    ¡°We¡¯re not fucking right now if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking. And you¡¯ve not been fucked during your stay here in my palace. As for future fucking. . ,¡± the queen¡¯s voice trailed off into a wide grin.


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    I pulled away from her, jerking the blanket up to my chin. It seemed like a childish move, but it was the only card I could play.


    The queen¡¯s grin vanished into a soft smile. And in a much more gentle tone, one I¡¯d not heard from her before, she said, ¡°You will not be defiled, my pet. I am queen here, and you¡¯re under my protection.¡±


    I took a deep breath and almost whispered, ¡°But you said future fucking.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve no doubt we will in the future. I saw the way you looked at me in the forest of your world, my pet. It did not escape my gaze how you would zone out for a moment here and there while looking at my body, no doubt sinking into daydreams left and right. The way you shivered when I marked you and drank every drop of my touch as though you¡¯d found water after wandering through the driest desert for days,¡± she said.


    My cheeks were starting to burn, and I pulled the blanket up to cover them in a futile effort while trying to look anywhere other than her mesmerizing violet eyes, a gaze I could wander in for days, like the desert she described. But not a harsh, dry environment, an oasis of lush grass and long rows of fruit trees waiting to be ¡ª fuck, I was doing it again, what she¡¯d just described.


    ¡°Rest assured, I won¡¯t take you to bed until you¡¯ve begged me, my pet. And you will. I smell the pheromones in your breath. I hear the steadily increasing beat of your heart. I feel the heat rising in your cheeks. And I see the ever-deeping gaze of your lovely reddish eyes, my pet. But, as I said, your consent will remain intact,¡± she said.


    I looked down at the quilt, lowering it to my mouth.


    ¡°And what if I fight it? The things you¡¯ve described, which I will neither confirm nor deny,¡± I asked.


    The queen shrugged, making a few wrinkles in her sleeveless black gown. Gone were the armor and cloak I¡¯d met her in.


    ¡°Fight all you like, my pet. But I¡¯ve ruled the Raven Court for more than a thousand years. I¡¯ve run in more Wild Hunts than you can count. I know what my prey will do before it acts. So whether I¡¯ll have you begging me tomorrow or a decade from now, it¡¯ll happen,¡± she said, not with arrogance but as a simple matter of fact. I didn¡¯t doubt she knew what she spoke.


    But I was determined to fight it anyway. Was I a bottom? Absolutely. But I was also a fucking brat, and she¡¯d learn the full extent of that so long as I remained her pet.


    ¡°What happens now?¡± I asked. ¡°Are you going to tell me what being your pet entails?¡±


    That grin again.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get to that soon enough. A lot awaits you outside that bedroom door. For now, I simply wished for a simple demonstration,¡± she said.


    I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I want you to know just how deeply I own you as a result of our bargain,¡± she said.


    ¡°How so?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Close your eyes for a moment.¡±


    Sighing and giving her one last glance, I did as she asked. Darkness. My eyes refused the light.


    ¡°Do you feel it? There¡¯s a chilly hum inside you that runs through your entire body. You¡¯ve never felt anything like it before, and there¡¯s no getting rid of it. It¡¯s in your joints, your muscles, and your thoughts. Not a pain, but a conscious presence,¡± she said.


    With my eyes closed, I reached into a deep level of my subconscious where previously only my inner wolf occupied. She was still there, but so was that chilly current. Or maybe it was more like a wave, pulsing here and there.


    Goddammit, I thought.


    ¡°My magic reaches so deep into your body and core, you can¡¯t even imagine it. You are bound to me, my pet. And you¡¯re double fucked because you were fawning over me even without my magic binding us together. I have you at my beck and call, and I think a part of you is thrilled with this, to belong to me. It excites you in a way you¡¯ve never felt before,¡± she said.


    I dropped the blanket and crossed my arms.


    ¡°That¡¯s not true at all. You found me in a desperate moment, and in a lapse of judgment, I agreed to your nonsensical bargain. I¡¯d have happily kept running. Hell, I bet I¡¯d have made it to the Canadian border if you hadn¡¯t blocked my path,¡± I said.


    Finally, the brat had emerged, and she¡¯d regret all this boasting about how I was hers. The queen would realize was a mistake she made trying to tame this wolf. I¡¯m powerful, dammit. I¡¯m a killer. I¡¯m a huntress.


    I puffed out my chest with each of those thoughts, unsure of who I was trying to convince, her or myself.


    Bemused, the queen scooched closer. I kept my arms crossed, daring her to try some shit. I refused to worship the ground she walked on. I fought my heart, which wanted to quiver. I commanded it to remain calm, though I think in hindsight that was fruitless.


    Moving her face closer to mine, I felt the queen put a hand on my left cheek. Her touch was cool, crisp, and refreshing. And, oh god, I truly had no self-control. Fucking hell. I leaned into her touch as she grabbed my attention without using a shred of magic. This was all a chemical reaction to her otherworldly beauty. The wildness in her grin and gaze, foreign to my world because she was everything faerie power represented, raw and unchecked passion.


    She inched her fingers closer to my hair, and then she found my untamed brown mane. The Raven Queen tamed them, slowly twisting her index and middle finger around each wavy lock.


    ¡°Do you want me to stop, my pet?¡±


    A small voice yelled, ¡°Show her how powerful you are! You¡¯re a werewolf for god¡¯s sake. You¡¯ve run through the woods at great speed, you¡¯ve taken down giant-ass moose, and spilled mortal blood without remorse. Use that power!¡±


    But, oh god, what was the point?


    ¡°Tell me to stop,¡± she whispered, her face even closer to mine yet. Her forehead touched my own, her sleek black hair bumping into my brown bangs.


    All I could do was shake my head, a pitiful display. No words. Just a tiny movement and even that took all my power.


    ¡°So, just to clarify, you don¡¯t want me to stop? Because I can. Immediately,¡± she whispered, scratching the side of my head. Tingling pleasure raced down the side of my face and into my shoulders. I let a soft sigh escape my lips.


    ¡°Don¡¯t. . . stop,¡± I might have hissed.


    She slowly pulled my head down into her lap as she scratched my head for several minutes. Hours? I couldn¡¯t think. Time had no meaning. And then she got mean. She slowly ran her white painted nails over my neck, and I shivered. A new level of pleasure.


    ¡°Whose pet are you, Sierra Chesli?¡±


    ¡°Yours, my grace,¡± I said.


    Now Queen Varella leaned over and blew lightly on my neck. More please, was all my brain could think.


    ¡°Are you unhappy with this predicament?¡±


    Slowly, I shook my head.


    ¡°How does it make you feel, my pet?¡±


    Thoughts were so hard to form right now. She was merciless. And the queen knew exactly what she was doing to me. I had no defense against her touch.


    ¡°Content. . .,¡± I finally answered.


    The Raven Queen grinned. Then she leaned down and muttered.


    ¡°You are mine, Sierra Chelsi. There is no escape from my grasp. And I want you to know now more than ever that even if you could flee my palace, you wouldn¡¯t. Because deep down, you don¡¯t want to. You like being mine. And you¡¯ll remain at my side without hesitation. That¡¯s how deeply I own you, my pet.¡±


    That was a lot of words, but all it amounted to was more shivering with pleasure. Every inch of my body felt it, and gooseflesh claimed new territory on my arms.


    I slipped into a state of half-sleep, and she eventually got up from the bed.


    ¡°When you¡¯re able to rouse yourself from all that pleasure, my pet, come downstairs. We¡¯ll discuss what fun you¡¯ll have as my pet,¡± she said.


    Then the door closed, and my brain could only summon one word, Fuck.

 Chapter Three

    So. . . that state of half-sleep evolved into one of total sleep. I couldn¡¯t help it. Queen Varella had me dead to rights when she asked how I felt. I felt content. But more than that, I felt secure for the first time in over a decade.


    My father was dead, and I knew there wasn¡¯t an abuser that would come charging through the bedroom door. Not here. Because this was her home. The queen¡¯s home. And she wouldn¡¯t dare let anything happen to her new pet. I¡¯d probably never be used to that degrading term, but I¡¯d be lying if I said it didn¡¯t come with perks, security being one of them. So, yeah, I went back to sleep.


    This all came six days after I killed my abuser and two since I¡¯d fled Sheriff John Watley, who was probably still combing that forest, telling himself some self-righteous lie about bringing an escaped murderer to justice.


    But he couldn¡¯t find me here. I may not have known where here was, but I took solace in the fact that he didn¡¯t either.


    The pillows I squeezed between my arms and legs were stuffed with goose feathers and smelled of the pine incense that¡¯d been wafting through my room since I arrived. And this quilt I¡¯d cocooned myself in had all the softness of silk while providing the warmth of a bath towel pulled right out of the dryer on a Maine winter¡¯s day.


    Do the math. Comfort plus warmth plus security equals a sleepy wolf girl.


    I didn¡¯t get much sleep in my father¡¯s house. Had to be somewhat awake to prepare myself for one of his fits of rage. No lock on my door. Hell, no door half the time.


    This door had locks, but I didn¡¯t bother engaging them. I heard the sound of footsteps outside, boots, and some kind of metal armor that clanked as the fae soldiers swapped shifts. Safe. I was safe. I was content. I was at peace. Sometimes I¡¯d stir to roll over on my back or move to my side. And each time I was consistently aware of a smile on my face, so I hid it in the pillow in case the queen had stealthily entered my quarters to poke fun at me.


    Was it embarrassing to hear the Raven Queen talk about me as though she¡¯d just returned from the animal shelter with a new puppy? Yes. Was I incapable of putting aside my pride to enjoy the perks of being that puppy? No.


    Maybe I slept for another 12 hours. Perhaps I slept for a full 24. Either way, my body was clearly more exhausted than I¡¯d registered before passing out. My inner wolf made me a bit stronger and faster than the average vanilla human. Accelerated mending of wounded flesh and bone was a bonus and made sense given how much transformation my body underwent 12 nights a year. That same body had to be flexible and fast when it came to breaking itself down and putting the pieces back together again.


    Without these things, I don¡¯t know if I would have survived living with Dad full time after Mom died. But I was here now. Sound asleep without a worry in the world. I don¡¯t think I could have put a monetary value on peaceful sleep given how deprived of it I was on the regular.


    Once in an orange moon, I was allowed to spend the night at a friend¡¯s house, typically on a Friday. And since they knew my home life was shit, they usually let me sleep through the next morning and afternoon without bothering me.


    There¡¯s something more beneficial to sleep where you know going into it that no alarm or parent is going to suddenly interrupt. Gradually waking up on your own merit is the most restful outcome imaginable. And that¡¯s what happened to the queen¡¯s new pet, me.


    As my eyes opened on day three of my introduction to the Raven Court, I yawned, and stretched, resulting in my knees and back popping several times, and I climbed out from under that blessed cocoon of blissful bed.


    Looking around the room, I saw the beginnings of morning light softly climbing into the window as though it didn¡¯t want to be what woke me up. Were I back home in Allagash, I¡¯d assume it was around 6:30 or 7 a.m.


    A black bird landed on my windowsill and stared at me through the glass, sleek feathers dipped lightly in morning dew taking on a blue tint. I was certain this was a crow. Was it Queen Varella in disguise? Could she transform into a corvid and just fly around willy-nilly? I guess that didn¡¯t seem impossible for a faerie queen who wandered between worlds and ensnared dumb werewolves in bargains of questionable benefit.


    So I walked over to the window. The crow didn¡¯t make any move to fly away.


    Feeling stupid, I leaned down and whispered through the glass.


    ¡°Your grace. . . is that you? Are you spying on me?¡± I asked, my voice getting a little louder. The bird just tilted its head to the side and kept staring at me with one eye.


    ¡°Because let me tell you how foolish a mistake that would be, the spying thing. I¡¯m a wolf. I can smell other creatures up to a mile away. I can hear them from up to 10 miles away. My senses make me one of the most dangerous and brilliant predators in the animal hierarchy. So you¡¯d best keep that in mind before spying on me next time, my queen. Your pet. . . is a genius of nature.¡±


    I was oozing bravado. Well-rested Sierra was a whole different beast than on-the-run Sierra. I was a force to be reckoned with.


    A woman suddenly spoke from behind me, causing me to yip, jump several feet, bump my face into the reinforced window, and then fall flat on my back in a matter of two seconds. It was pretty damn far from the typical reaction of one of the most brilliant predators in the animal hierarchy.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the queen, you know,¡± the voice had said, though my brain took a few seconds to process this after bumping into the hardwood floor.


    A small winged piskie no more than five inches tall hovered above me with tiny gossamer wings moving at a speed I could only describe as ¡°hummingbird.¡±


    Her purple hair was tied back in a braid, and she had a few blemishes on her right cheek. The outfit she wore screamed librarian, as did the little clipboard and even smaller pencil she carried, taking notes on what I imagined to be appropriately-small sheets of paper.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    When she finished writing something, the piskie¡¯s pink eyes looked me over before a sneer escaped her lips.


    ¡°Well, she¡¯s got the intelligence of a new dog brought home from the pound,¡± the piskie said, writing once more in her notes.


    For such a small being, her voice carried just as far as any regular-sized human.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose your parents ever taught you not to insult a beast that could eat you in half a bite, did they?¡± I asked, starting to get up.


    And for the second time in about 60 seconds, I was going to be shown a lesson in humility as the piskie tucked her pencil into the top of the clipboard. Then she snapped her fingers with that newly-freed free hand.


    My body may as well have been a puppet with its strings cut because I lost all feeling. All the power of a raging werewolf rendered helpless with the snap of two fingers on a creature less than half a foot tall.


    So I lay there flat on my back, staring up at the creature floating a few feet above me. She moved down and landed on my chin, of all places, her tiny leather shoes on either side of my dimple.


    The expression on her face told me she¡¯d made this demonstration more times than she could count. A small grin that could only come from putting an arrogant bitch in her place crept onto the piskie¡¯s face.


    ¡°Three things you should know, young wolf. First, my name is Barsilla Yeltov, and I¡¯m Queen Varella¡¯s left-hand lady.¡±


    All I could do in response was blink.


    ¡°Second, no matter how much bigger you think you are than me, you are still just the royal pet. There aren¡¯t enough ladders in all of the Raven Court that would allow you to climb the ranks between us.¡±


    More blinking, a tiny gulp.


    ¡°Third, within the queen¡¯s palace of Featherstone, I have access to more magic than you can imagine. You think I¡¯m small now? Wait until I reduce you to the size of a flea. Threaten me again, and I just might.¡±


    With that, the piskie flew out of sight, back on the other side of the room toward my door.


    Geez, she might as well have added a fourth warning, I thought. ¡°Also, I can kill you with my brain.¡±


    After another agonizing five seconds, mercy came in the form of another snapping of fingers. Like I¡¯d never lost feeling at all,


    Getting up, I rubbed my head and saw Barsilla standing by the wardrobe. She snapped her fingers again, and the two doors opened with nary a squeak.


    Inside, I saw multiple gowns and dresses, several patterns, fabrics, and forms. Next to them, were trousers and shoes ranging from flats to heels to boots, mostly in black, some in navy or mauve.


    I walked over and started gently going through the clothing, as though it might disappear in an instant if I moved the fabrics with too much force.


    ¡°Queen Varella is expecting you for breakfast in an hour, so I¡¯d wash up quickly in the tub because you smell like a dog that ran through the forest for weeks and then slept for two straight days,¡± the piskie said, writing more notes. What, was she working on a novel? Damn.


    Still stunned at the wide range of clothing before me, I just pointed inside the armoire and then back to me, asking a question without words because they wouldn¡¯t come.


    Barsilla rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re free to select anything you want from there and accompany the queen for breakfast. It¡¯s all yours,¡± she said, looking down at her papers.


    A single tear escaped one of my eyes and made a break for it down my left cheek before I could wipe it.


    The piskie looked up at me, and I felt my heart slow to a crawl.


    ¡°These are. . . all mine? These nice clothes?¡± I whispered.


    Cocking her head to the left and raising an eyebrow, the queen¡¯s left-hand lady nodded. Then, she just watched me for a second. I ran my fingers over them all, silk, cotton, chiffon, lace, there were more types of fabric in this piece of furniture than I had articles of clothing back home.


    My closet at Dad¡¯s house contained exactly two pairs of jeans (one with holes in the knees), four shirts (one with long sleeves), one old pair of scuffed sneakers, and an old winter coat one of my teachers had fished out of the lost and found for me. It was tan and made me look like a farmhand.


    But my father was cheap, and he didn¡¯t care if I was warm or cold. So I bundled up in that coat for six months of the year because Maine¡¯s winters were longer than the cold season of most other states, particularly in the County.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Barsilla asked, her right eyebrow rising even higher.


    I pulled a magenta sheath dress with a narrow belt out of the armoire and almost hugged the damn thing. It looked nicer than anything my friends had worn to prom (I got to see the pictures on their phones the day after). This was the kind of thing I imagined city folk wore to the symphony or visiting a museum. And it was just. . . mine? Forget turning me into a flea. This was the real magic right here.


    ¡°Can I wear this?¡± I asked, also snatching a pair of black flats from the bottom of the armoire.


    Barsilla just shrugged and said, ¡°Wear what you want, pet. It¡¯s all yours. Why are you acting so weird?¡±


    Trying not to tear up again and stain the nice dress with my pathetic little cry, I cleared my throat.


    ¡°I¡¯ve. . . never had anything nice like this before. And to suddenly be told these are all mine. . . well, it¡¯s just a lot for me to believe,¡± I said, looking down at my bare feet on the floor.


    Nodding, Barsilla seemed, at last, to have claimed an understanding of why I was acting this way.


    Her voice softened exactly 12 percent. She blew a stray hair out of her face and tucked away the pencil again. Flying close, the piskie placed a tiny, chilled hand on my cheek (the one without tears). She looked a little uncomfortable doing so.


    ¡°Listen. . . her grace might have mentioned you came from an abusive home,¡± Barsilla started. ¡°But I think you¡¯ll find in some ways here that Queen Varella is ready to spoil you rotten, as a human would do for a new puppy, buying boxes and boxes of toys. You will face new dangers here in the Raven Court that you aren¡¯t used to. But none of it will come from your mistress. Understand?¡±


    I nodded, that familiar feeling of contentedness welling up in my chest again. My shoulders relaxed a little bit.


    ¡°So lay that dress on the bed with those shoes, and go wash up. The queen likes breakfast a lot, and she won¡¯t want to delay, even for her new pet.¡±


    Smiling, I let the thought that someone actually wanted to eat breakfast with me run wild in my head while I bathed in the world¡¯s most bougie bathtub. I washed with soap and shampoo that smelled of wildflowers. And I don¡¯t mean what fragrance companies thought wildflowers smelled like, but actual goddamn wildflowers growing in some forbidden meadow where no human had ever trodden before.


    That¡¯s some bomb-ass magic, I thought.


    And, about an hour later, I had my cinnamon hair in a braid courtesy of Barsilla, my makeup freshly done, lips painted pink, and off to breakfast we went. Didn¡¯t want to keep my mistress waiting.

 Book #2 Announcement

    Chapter Sixteen


    Walking into Perch felt like I¡¯d entered a renaissance fair. A well-worn path connected Featherstone to the Raven Court¡¯s capital city not far from the lake. Buildings made of stone and straw, occasionally hardwood and shingles, lined streets wide enough for two horse carriages to pass each other going in opposite directions.


    None of the buildings stood taller than two stories except for the headquarters of Varella¡¯s feathers that were stationed in the city. Though with the festival, more feathers from the palace had been brought to the city to keep security intact.


    The smells of fried bread, baked sweets, and roasted meat filled the streets as Lily and I walked toward the noise of celebration. We held hands, and it felt about as right as anything else since I¡¯d arrived in Faerie.


    I was still trying to make sense of my feelings. Was I truly head over heels for two different fae? My mind kept trying to convince me this was madness, but then I remembered I was a werewolf who¡¯d traded her freedom for sanctuary in a land of magic and passion.


    This was a dangerous world, but I was under the protection of a dark queen and an accomplished spy. Somehow, I figured I¡¯d be okay so long as I kept a sensible head on my shoulders.


    A few blocks away, the crowd started to thicken. Faeries played lutes, horns, and drums as bards sang about everything from the changing of the seasons to the long lives fae lived through, moment to moment.


    ¡°Hey, Lily?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes, Si?¡±


    I squeezed her hand a little tighter. Since confessing my feelings, I¡¯d come to enjoy her using my pet name even more. It was the way she addressed me as no one else could. Not even my mistress could use that name for me. Though I still melted when she called me her pet, so it¡¯s not like the queen needed another nickname for me.


    ¡°What are dryads? And why is our queen throwing them a festival?¡±


    The two of us walked past a couple of guys kissing passionately under a tree. Seems the festival had everyone supercharged. Perch¡¯s air was buzzing with excitement and expectation. Something big was going to happen tonight.


    ¡°Dryads are nomadic tree elves. They¡¯re not hard to spot,¡± Lily said. ¡°They wander Faerie, tending to each forest, weeding out dead trees, and spreading new growth. Once a year, Queen Varella invites them to Perch for a festival in their honor to thank them for saving our forests.¡±


    Faerie may not have internet access, but they understand the importance of taking care of this world¡¯s environment. And to have people who made it their entire existence was kind of jaw-dropping.


    I tried not to stare, but a dryad finally appeared, crossing the street to grab himself a caramel apple. His flesh was green, his tunic made of leaves sewn together and adorned with acorns and seeds. The elf¡¯s eyes were a darker green than his skin, and he stood a whole foot taller than me. His limbs were lanky and looked like the branches of a tree, with tiny cracks in his flesh around the shoulders.


    The dryad¡¯s hair was a tangled mess of vines and roots, mostly brown and other earthy colors. And I didn¡¯t spot any ears on the sides of his head. In their place, were two sticks that jutted up a couple of inches like little wooden antennae or horns.


    That is definitely not Treebeard, I thought, looking away so I didn¡¯t stare any longer than it took for me to check off the little box that said, ¡°Saw dryad.¡±


    Lily and I stepped through the crowd of fae. I got a few stares for being the only human in the city, but for the most part, the fae left us alone. Something told me they understood I wasn¡¯t a vanilla mortal, but none of them had seen me in court yet as a bipedal creature.


    They knew Varella had a werewolf somewhere in the castle, but thus far, outside of castle staff and a few feathers and talons, few had seen me like this.


    So, right now, I was just some almost-normal human being led by my half-fae girlfriend through a festival, having a good time.


    Perch¡¯s town square was big enough to fit at least 30 city buses in, side-by-side, not that there were any such things here. The entire town center was packed with faeries and dryad carrying drinks, chomping on food, laughing, singing, and having a merry time.


    Paper lanterns lit with purple and black fire hung from tall posts decorated with flowers and little bells that chimed when a breeze picked up. Vendors selling all sorts of clothing and food lined the square''s east side. A small stage had been set up, where a string quartet was tuning their instruments.


    I just beamed at the celebration before me. I¡¯d never seen such a large party before. Even the Aroostook County Fair didn¡¯t draw such a crowd, and it was the biggest event in northern Maine.


    As we wove through the crowd toward the stage, I started to wonder what Lily had in mind. And when the music started, people immediately cleared out a large spot to dance on the cobblestones, pairings effortlessly moving in tune with the rhythm.


    ¡°Come on, slowpoke! Let¡¯s go dancing,¡± Lily said, but I stopped, dread pasting itself on my face. I didn¡¯t dance. My high school dances were embarrassing enough to shatter any hope of enjoying events that involved the cursed activity.


    I mean, nobody dropped a bucket of pig¡¯s blood on me at prom, but I fell enough while trying to sway with the music and got laughed at plenty. When I¡¯m not on four legs, grace seems to elude me.


    ¡°Look, why don¡¯t you dance? I¡¯m not a great partner for it. I¡¯ve got no left feet,¡± I said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean two left feet?¡±


    ¡°No, because that would imply my pitiful level of dance skill was merely embarrassing. The truth is, my dancing is a war crime. They convened a UN Council hearing and everything,¡± I said.


    Lily crossed her arms.


    ¡°Dancing here is different. Fae weave their glamor into the notes and rhythms. So when you step on the dance floor, you just have to coast, and your body moves, carried by the magic of the musicians,¡± Lily said.


    That sounded suspicious to me. Like, if these fae decided to be malevolent for even a day, I¡¯d dance until my feet bled. But I¡¯d seen something in Lily¡¯s eyes that gave me confidence. She wouldn¡¯t let that happen. Not in a million years. So I let her take my hand again.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± I asked.


    She grinned as though she¡¯d just eaten a canary.


    ¡°Same thing you always do. Submit to the top, and do as you¡¯re told like the good girl that you are,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°Oh fuck y¡ª¡° I started to say, but she interrupted me by pulling me onto the dance floor. The bitch I¡¯d given my heart to knew I couldn¡¯t focus long enough to stay mad at her. Because exactly what she¡¯d predicted came to fruition.


    First, my submissive ass did whatever she motioned for me to do without question. Second, the music really did carry me along as I relaxed in her arms. The way it slipped under my skin and sang directly to my muscles and joints was unlike anything I¡¯d ever witnessed before.


    Lily and I spun, we carried on up and down the cobblestone, she twirled me, and I fell back into her arms. Others clapped around us. A dryad couple swung past us, and one of the girls winked at me. Their maple-leaf dresses clung tightly to them, held by magic or string or maybe both.


    The songs blended, fast and slow, and eventually I found myself staring into Lily¡¯s soft blue eyes. They looked back at me, offering me promises of all the tenderness and sweet moments I could ever want. And I realized there was one thing I wanted from her right here and now.


    ¡°Lily?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Hmmm?¡±


    We kept dancing, but the tune was slower now, so I placed my head on her shoulder. I didn¡¯t have the courage to look at her directly while I sought this one thing.


    ¡°Fae don¡¯t often give oaths, do they?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, Si. Not typically. So much of our power is bound up in the things we say we¡¯ll do. Our kind learned long ago it¡¯s easier to say less. Don¡¯t weave as much rope to tangle yourself with,¡± she said.


    Nodding, I realized that made my request all the more difficult. So now I owed her a direct gaze. Mustering the courage, I lifted my head and found her eyes once more.


    ¡°Be that as it may. I want a promise from you, please.¡±


    Lily said nothing, waiting to hear what I would request.


    ¡°Give me your word that you¡¯ll never ask me to choose between you and my mistress. I don¡¯t think my heart could bear such a weight. It would shatter, and I¡¯d die,¡± I said.


    Surprise claimed a spot on the spy¡¯s face. She considered my words. Was this an oath she could make safely? Was I worth it should this prove to be a risky maneuver?


    ¡°Would you choose her?¡± Lily asked, with not an ounce of malice in her voice. This was the spy dancing with me now, hiding her cards, keeping them so close to her chest they might as well have been in her rib cage.


    Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out and somehow found the bravery I needed to keep looking into her eyes.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t pick either of you, Lily. You both make me happy in wildly different ways. And I know it¡¯s greedy. It¡¯s selfish. It¡¯s. . . so much. But I want both of you,¡± I said, feeling like my tongue wanted to jump onto the dance floor so someone could step on it after making such a request.


    Lily¡¯s face softened. Gradually, a smile returned to her lips. The spy vanished, and my girlfriend reappeared.


    ¡°Very well then. I give you my word that I will never ask you to choose between myself and our queen,¡± Lily said.


    Relief flooded my heart until she pointed something obvious out.


    ¡°Of course, my oath alone is incomplete without the queen making a similar promise,¡± Lily said.


    We finally stepped off the dance floor because my legs were shaking from exhaustion.


    Maybe we should have stopped about two songs ago, I thought. But the Herculean effort it took to pull myself out of the tune was enough to drain me.


    ¡°Yeah, I know. I¡¯ll ask her to make the same promise,¡± I said. ¡°But regardless of how my mistress reacts, I don¡¯t want you to have any doubts.¡±


    Lily pulled me close, so close that our faces were almost touching. Electricity built between our bodies with each conquered millimeter we overtook.


    With all the confidence and bravado my girlfriend could muster, she asked, ¡°Doubts about what?¡±


    She was going to make me say it.


    ¡°Doubts that I love you,¡± I almost whispered.


    Time seemed to freeze around us as Lily¡¯s lips met my own. I closed my eyes and sank into her embrace. Lily felt like home, like wherever she stood, so long as I was next to her, that was home. And I couldn¡¯t believe I felt this way in such a short amount of time.


    Then again, that was the lesbian way. If we didn¡¯t have a UHaul ready after the first date, what even was the point? Pack your cats and clothes, and get settled. And if things didn¡¯t work out, congrats. Your ex was now your new best friend.


    Gods we¡¯re predictable, I thought.


    When our lips parted, and the fireworks inside my head paused for just a moment, Lily giggled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any doubts about your love for me, Si. The way your eyes scream, ¡®I would stand in line for 48 hours just to tell you hello¡¯ is proof enough. I love you too. And before your human brain starts rattling off reasons about how this is too fast, let me remind you that we¡¯re in Faerie, a land full of fickle eternals driven by passions from one second to the next. Your concept of love at first sight? Humans borrowed that from us.¡±


    Learn something new every day, I thought.


    Afterward, we found a series of picnic tables and sat down to finally eat. Roasted corn, turkey legs, a bowl of fruit, most of which I couldn¡¯t identify but devoured all the same, it was a good meal. And then Lily brought over cupcakes with little tree designs in the frosting on top. Each sugary bite was a piece of Heaven.


    Damn the fae can bake, I thought. Go fuck yourself, Paul Hollywood.


    An hour later, we were back standing before the stage. My mistress appeared in a shimmering black and purple gown, her hair tied back by a thin chain decorated with black feathers. Her eyes painted dark and lips ruby red, the Raven Queen stood before a packed square and spoke. My heart soared at seeing her and blasted out into the universe hearing her.


    ¡°Our forests are lush and teeming with life. They surround and fortify our fair city, providing everything from food to protection for our fellow fae. And every patch of woods from Perch to Calson¡¯s Bay exists at the mercy of our generous dryad siblings. Truly, we are humbled by the reverence for life and the ability to foster new growth that you all carry in your travels through Faerie. We honor you with this celebration and pray that you will bless us with another year of maintaining the forests, oh fair guardians of nature.¡±


    As she spoke, my mistress showed, not vulnerability, but respect to the dryads gathered around the stage. I thought they numbered 50-100, but there was no way for me to get an official count. They smelled of soil and sap, foliage and nuts. It was earthy, the very stuff of life. And they carried it with them like any human might take a purse or a wallet.


    ¡°As a token of our gratitude for all that you do, I add a portion of my power to your own. May it serve you well in your journey among the oaks and birches,¡± my mistress said.


    All at once, her mark on the side of my neck grew noticeably colder, and I felt her magic stirring in a huge way.


    I¡¯d witnessed her in a war zone. I¡¯d felt her mark me and place her magic within me. But the motion I felt from her glamour now was so much bigger. She pulled glamour from within herself, a well I didn¡¯t think would ever run dry. And while every fae standing near me could probably feel it to some degree, it passed through me in a way it didn¡¯t for so many others.


    My mistress¡¯ magic resided within me, so when she tapped it, there were echoes within me of that power being used. And boy was she using much of it for her blessing upon the dryads now.


    Then our queen did something I didn¡¯t expect. She started to sing. Her voice, enhanced by royal glamour, carried across the square. Not a soul in the crowd failed to listen. My mistress had range for days, hitting notes from parts firmly in the range of tenor up to soprano.


    And while she sang, I felt so very many things. I couldn¡¯t tell if these were solely my emotions or if the queen¡¯s feelings were clinging to us all.


    The dryads closed their eyes and began to glow with a purple aura as my mistress¡¯ glamour added to their own.


    For several minutes she sang of gratitude for gifts we did not earn but nonetheless appreciated and the importance of pausing to reflect on the simple joys of taking an hour or two to walk through the woods and feel small in a giant world.


    Her words rang true from the deepest roots to the tallest branches, and the queen¡¯s song concluded with a personal connection to the dryads. For without the trees they selflessly gave to Faerie, there would be no place for ravens to build their nests.


    Gods, she¡¯s amazing, I thought, looking over and seeing the same wonderment on Lily¡¯s face. That¡¯s how you knew the queen¡¯s song was an impressive event. My girlfriend had heard it every year, and it still moved her to tears. Wait, tears? Fuck, I was crying. I was overwhelmed.


    There was just so much happening from the flowing glamour swirling around the crowd to the raw openness of our queen removing her heart and placing it on the stage for all of us to witness.


    But my appreciation was cut short by a piskie landing on my right shoulder and whispering in my ear.


    ¡°Come quickly, royal pet. There¡¯s trouble!¡±


    Before I could process Barsilla¡¯s words, she started to pull my hair a little, back toward Featherstone.


    ¡°Move it, wolf! You¡¯re needed. Now!¡± She said.


    It took a few seconds to pull my attention back from the queen¡¯s raw power on full display, but eventually, the words of Varella¡¯s left-hand lady sank in.


    Lily was quicker to react than I was. She leaned over, and Barsilla whispered, ¡°Lily! Find Ceras and tell them to rush back to the palace. Go now.¡±


    My girlfriend wasted no time. Lily kissed me on the cheek, dropped my hand, and disappeared into the crowd with the maneuverability she could only have gained working for years as a wing.


    I turned to move in the direction Barsilla indicated, but the crowd presented much more of an obstacle for me.


    Varella was back to speaking again, but I didn¡¯t hear her words. My heart was pounding too loud over hearing there was trouble at the palace.


    ¡°Barsilla, if there¡¯s trouble, why not start rounding up feathers and talons? There¡¯s plenty here,¡± I whispered.


    She landed on my shoulder, and for the first time, I realized she didn¡¯t have her clipboard. Fuck, that was bad.


    ¡°Can¡¯t. If I start pulling them, the crowd will get suspicious. And the festival needs to keep running smoothly.¡±


    Made sense.


    Once we got to the outskirts of the city, I bolted for the palace.


    ¡°Circle to the rear!¡± the piskie called over the sound of my running. I did as I was told and headed for the rear watchtower.


    ¡°What¡¯s the trouble? You haven¡¯t told me yet.¡±


    We cleared the city limits and came into view of Featherstone.


    ¡°The palace is facing an attack from the lake. Kelpies and selkies stampeding up the shore when most of the feathers and talons are providing security for the festival,¡± Barsilla said. ¡°We¡¯re overwhelmed.¡±


    That sent my heart racing. I didn¡¯t know what those were, but if they were attacking us, probably not great and friendly folks.


    Finally rounding the corner and coming to within view of the castle¡¯s back bridge and watchtower, I witnessed a desperate struggle among maybe 15 still-living feathers and twice as many kelpies and selkies advancing toward Featherstone.


    Kelpies looked like black aquatic horses, shadows moving around them obscuring the body at times, with glowing red eyes. Their hooves slammed to the ground and knocked feathers prone before trampling them to death. The selkies appeared to be pale fae, armed with armor made of ice and carrying large spears carved from driftwood, with the point made of a large sharpened shell. Tied around their waist appeared to be the skin of seals.


    Leading them all was a woman about my height with long blue hair, whipping around in a fury. Her body was shrouded in a cloak made from fish scales. Her right hand grasped a stick with a shining blue orb on the end, radiating a sickening aura, and her opposite hand carried a shield made from a sea turtle¡¯s shell.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Varella¡¯s troops were well trained as any soldiers, I imagined, but when you don¡¯t have the numbers, you don¡¯t have the numbers. Bodies of selkies and kelpies lay among the dead, sure. Our guys got a few. But the number of dead feathers was considerably higher.


    Our feathers were lacking direction. I think their commander was among the dead, which wasn¡¯t a great morale booster.


    Without thinking, I bolted from my hiding spot and ran down to the battle. Taking a position behind the feathers, I did the first thing that came to mind. I gave them a rallying point.


    ¡°Feathers! To me! Protect the royal pet,¡± I cried.


    The feathers looked at one another and then wasted no time regrouping, a renewed light and focus in their eyes.


    Rough and worse for wear, armored men and women surrounded me in a loose oval shape.


    ¡°We¡¯ll guard you with our lives,¡± one of the feathers, a woman with a bleeding wound forcing one eye shut, said.


    Standing with their weapons pointed forward, I could tell these guards had found their second wind. And I did feel protected, as their strength and aura rebuilt into a unit around me. It was at this point, I remembered what my mistress had told me about endearing the guards to me.


    ¡°You¡¯re my new pet, and you have me feeling amused and delighted. That makes the feathers happy. And when they see me teasing you or carrying you around like a fluffy pal, it leaves them feeling amused as well. They feel connected to me, and subsequently, you, all the more,¡± she¡¯d said.


    It looked like all that teasing and embarrassment around the palace in front of the feathers had paid off. Of course, now I didn¡¯t know what to do with their dedication and rebuilt focus.


    For better or worse, I wasn¡¯t given much time to think of what to do next. Because the woman with the glowing orb approached with her fighters in a tight formation behind her.


    ¡°So the little wolf shows herself at last. I was wondering if you¡¯d come out to play,¡± the woman said.


    I narrowed my eyes.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we skip the Saturday morning cartoon villain shit and get to who you are and why you¡¯re here,¡± I said with a voice that surprised me with its ferocity.


    But why wouldn¡¯t I be fierce? I¡¯d be whisked away from a world where I had only problems and brought to a world of magic where I was pampered to a ridiculous degree. And this bitch and her water polo rejects were attacking my new home.


    ¡°My name is Veltuza. I am the witch of this lake. House Harroldsen paid me well to kill your queen. Figure when she¡¯s pouring out all her magic over the tree elves would be a pretty good time to strike. Will you stand aside?¡±


    She asked me to stand aside as though it was such a simple request. Pass the butter, please. Could you get me that box off the top shelf? Move to the side so I can murder your mistress if you¡¯d be so kind.


    No, I would not be so kind. Fuck this bitch and the water horse she rode in on.


    ¡°I was the one who killed Lord Harroldsen. Why not just take me prisoner and end this mess right now?¡± I asked.


    Barsilla stared at me in shock as though this was the worse possible option.


    ¡°Lady Harroldsen wasn¡¯t all that broken up over her husband¡¯s death. He was an arrogant fool bound to get himself killed sooner or later. She doesn¡¯t want your head. She wants the Raven Queen¡¯s skull mounted in her court at Eagle¡¯s Loft.¡±


    I took a moment to consider this. Killing Lord Harroldsen didn¡¯t bring these attackers here. Something else did. I needed to stall until help could arrive, so what better time to find out what brought Lady Harroldsen¡¯s wrath this day?


    ¡°What grievance does your lady have with my mistress?¡± I asked. ¡°If this isn¡¯t about the life I took, what does it concern?¡±


    The lake witch scowled. She was eager to get this over with. I watched her fingers twitch as they held the glowing orb.


    ¡°It concerns respect, little wolf,¡± Veltuza said. ¡°The Raven Queen has shown my lady nothing but disrespect over the last few months. She arbitrarily raised taxes over the objection of House Harroldsen, put the concerns of the Worm Court above her own houses, and even showed a willingness to annex a new house without subjecting them to the same onerous burdens Eagle¡¯s Loft has faced this year. On top of all that, she offered a mere pittance following the murder of Lord Harroldsen. Eagle¡¯s Loft is owed more deference than your queen has shown, and I¡¯m here to remind her of that.¡±


    Well shit. That¡¯s a long list of grievances, I thought.


    But the fae court politics were above my pay grade. Actually. . . I wasn¡¯t sure I even had a pay grade as the royal pet. Maybe I¡¯d discuss that with my mistress after this shit was over.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way to solve this diplomatically? Respect sounds like an issue that can be resolved by dignitaries and peace talks,¡± I said.


    Veltuza sneered and looked at her dead comrades on the ground. I looked at the feathers who died fighting them.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re a little past peace talks,¡± the lake witch said. ¡°Stand aside.¡±


    I shook my head. Without surprise, I¡¯d spent all my badass points for the day just talking to this woman attacking the castle.


    A lake wind picked up, throwing her hair all around and revealing pointy ears, each pierced with three golden rings.


    ¡°Very well. Thanks for buying time for me to prepare this spell, royal pet. I¡¯m most grateful,¡± she said, as the orb started to glow brighter. Shadows and glamour flew to the orb, drawn from the selkies and kelpies behind her. Bitch had a whole well of magic at her disposal, and I¡¯d given her time to tap into it.


    Fucking hell, I thought. Getting the villain to monologue always worked in cartoons.


    That was the last thought I had before a wave of magic from the orb crashed into me like a fucking tsunami. My legs buckled as the spell washed over me and suffocated any shred of security I had left.


    The worst migraine I¡¯d ever felt rocked through my brain like a wrecking ball, sans Miley. Falling to my knees and clutching my head, I screamed. I pleaded for it to stop. And when the pain finally lessened to a degree, a new hell captured my attention.


    ¡°There you are, Sierra. I¡¯ve been looking everywhere for you,¡± a familiar voice said. And my heart plummeted into the deepest pit of my guts. I started to panic breathe because I knew the man speaking.


    Looking up slowly, I was greeted by my father, standing before me. Gray sweats, messy hair, belt in hand. And all I could do was whimper.


    ¡°Y¡ªyou were dead. I killed you,¡± I whispered.


    He laughed, and I remembered every time he¡¯d made that fucking noise, usually as I huddled with the one or two stuffed animals I had in the corner of my room, begging for the wall to open up and let me in. Insulation and fiberglass were welcome neighbors I¡¯d choose over my father any day.


    ¡°Did you honestly think a scrawny little bitch like you could kill me? No. I stand before you now because, like everything else you¡¯ve attempted in life, you failed,¡± he said.


    Tears streamed down my cheeks now as I looked left and right for someone, anyone to protect me. But the feathers had vanished. Even Barsilla abandoned me.


    The only people left on the shore were me and my father. And this time, I didn¡¯t have claws and teeth to defend myself.


    My father cracked the belt as he pulled it tight, and I flinched, crawling further backward from the man who¡¯d made my life a living hell.


    ¡°You¡¯re pathetic, just like your mother. No potential. Just a good-for-nothing piece of shit only good for the occasional chore. And sometimes you couldn¡¯t even do that,¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s not true. I¡ª¡°


    ¡°Shut up!¡± He screamed, and any will to keep speaking evaporated immediately. I was a powerless child standing at the mercy of a man who wasn¡¯t known for showing any.


    I looked at the ground.


    ¡°The first thing I¡¯m going to do is see how many teeth I can knock out with my belt buckle. Then I¡¯m going to see how many knuckles I can break with it. You know, target practice. And then we¡¯ll go from there,¡± he said. ¡°Because I want you to understand something. You can run away from home. Hell, you can flee to a different world entirely. But you will never, ever be free of me, you worthless child.¡±


    Please. . . just make him go away, I thought to no one in particular. Someone help me. Lily, where are you?


    ¡°Now hold still. We¡¯ve got a lot of teeth to break,¡± my father said, raising his belt. I flinched and shut my eyes, drawing my arms and legs in tight.


    And just when things seemed as fucked as they could be, I heard a woman screaming. Looking up, my father was gone. Barsilla was hovering in front of me, saying. . .something, but I couldn¡¯t focus.


    The feathers that surrounded me were slowly getting up off the ground, groaning, a few still shaking.


    When I looked down the shoreline at Veltuza, I found the source of the scream. Because she did it again. Squinting, I found the cause of her cry. That glowing orb was no more. All but the base was shattered, broken glass littered around her feet, where a hand axe lay in the dirt.


    ¡°Get up, Sierra. You¡¯re safe now,¡± a voice said.


    I turned to see Ceras walking up behind me, holding a torch, light and shadow dancing along their leather armor. But this wasn¡¯t the goofball I was used to.


    As Lily would occasionally fade into her spy face. So, too, had this person changed into the persona they needed to accomplish the task before them.


    They extended me a hand, and I took it like a life jacket in a storm. Clinging to their strength, I rose to my shaky feet. More feathers did the same. And it occurred to me what¡¯d happened.


    My father had been an illusion, created by the spell Veltuza launched. And Ceras had arrived, throwing a small axe at the magic orb, shattering it and the spell.


    ¡°You saved me,¡± I muttered, wiping tears off my cheeks.


    ¡°Well yeah. Couldn¡¯t just let the royal pet stay trapped in a nightmare until her heart gave out. The queen would kill me. And who would help me choose the best poses to impress my boyfriend with?¡±


    For a brief moment, in that warm smile of theirs, Ceras the himbo returned. But when they turned to face Veltuza, the talon resumed their post.


    I watched as Veltuza threw down her stick with broken glass on the end and reached behind her, pulling out a sickle.


    ¡°One man will not turn the tide of this battle,¡± she hissed.


    Ceras chuckled.


    ¡°Well, then I guess it¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m not a man. But I¡¯ll tell you what I am, lake witch,¡± they said, drawing an axe from their belt. ¡°I am the 13th master of the Thunder Cleave, as well as the strongest talon in Queen Varella¡¯s forces. That probably puts a little quake in your boots, am I right?¡±


    Veltuza scowled.


    ¡°I do not fear you, warrior. You will lie dead on this earth before the sun rises just like the other Raven Court soldiers.¡±


    ¡°Doubtful,¡± Ceras said, with a reassuring level of sass and confidence. ¡°Hey, Sierra. Why don¡¯t you see if you can help even the field while I deal with the lake witch?¡±


    I looked around as the kelpies and selkies prepared for a renewed assault and started to ask how I could help. But Ceras just looked at me, winked, and said, ¡°I believe in you.¡±


    This is the worst after-school special ever, I thought, nodding.


    Then, Ceras charged down the path told Veltuza, axe drawn, aura burning a bright blue. When their weapon struck her shield, the ground quaked, and I heard a near-deafening clap of thunder.


    Looking again, I saw the witch eat sand from the impact of that blow, flying in the opposite direction of Featherstone.


    ¡°Goddamn, that packs a punch. I wonder if they could teach me to be the 14th master of the Thunder Cleave because it looks wicked cool,¡± I thought.


    The feathers around me had recovered enough from their nightmares, not that they appeared eager to charge after Ceras. But they kept looking at me, unsure if they were to stay close and protect me or help their talon.


    I wish I knew how to help them. But without my mistress here, I couldn¡¯t change into my wolf form. I looked up at the sky and saw an almost-full moon. It was still a few days off.


    At this point, I was powerless.


    Panicking from being unable to help, I took a deep breath. Had to focus. Had to center myself. How could I help level the playing field without my wolf form? There was more to me than that, but what was I supposed to do? What would the Raven Queen tell me to do?


    And, considering this, I remembered it wasn¡¯t just my inner wolf I had at my disposal. My mistress had infused a piece of her glamour into my wolfheart. I felt it every time she used her power, pulsing through me. It connected us. Bound us deeper than any other individual.


    She used the magic as a handle to reach inside and pull my wolf form out. Could I tap into her glamour on my own? Why not? It was just there waiting.


    So I closed my eyes as I heard the pounding of hooves from kelpies drawing closer. Exhausted guards hoisted their weapons and shields, sweat and blood running down their faces. They¡¯d protect the royal pet or die trying.


    But I didn¡¯t need to be protected right now. I needed to do the protecting, as Ceras had said. Level the playing field.


    Reaching inside for my mistress¡¯ glamour, I found it. It responded to my focused will, and my determination to end this battle once and for all.


    Please, mistress, I thought. Help me.


    For a moment, I thought I heard the Raven Queen¡¯s laugh. But she was back at the festival. It was just me, Ceras, and a last-ditch group of feathers running on fumes. It was time to end this.


    Come on! I thought. And the glamour responded in full surging up from my wolfheart and through the rest of my body. It felt like feathers blowing on a night wind inside of me, a storm rolling in after midnight. Ready to strike. It was time. This was my time!


    Calling to the feathers around me, Varella¡¯s glamour pulsing in my chest awaiting command, I roared, ¡°My name is Sierra Chelsea. I am the goddamn wolf of Featherstone, and your time on my queen¡¯s land is at an end. No mercy. No prisoners. No escape.¡±


    The feathers stared back at me, feeling their queen¡¯s glamour spilling out of my body. My growls echoed across the ground, rattling their weapons and shields. And then the fae did something I didn¡¯t expect. They started to roar themselves, charging at the enemies outnumbering them below. Victory was already certain in their minds because the queen¡¯s pet and Ceras were there fighting with them.


    Throwing back my head, I sliced the night sky with an ear-piercing howl. Dark aura built around me as I heard the furious clash of Ceras and Veltuza¡¯s weapons meeting. Clanging metal, furious thunder. All waiting for me to cut loose.


    With my howl, came the howl of others, and the selkies and kelpies looked around in confusion as the guards charged down at them.


    But they weren¡¯t alone anymore. A pack of wolves appeared as if from thin air, running ahead of them. The canines¡¯ bodies were made purely of black feathers and Varella¡¯s glamour. I guided them toward the enemy with my mind.


    Snarling, they cut into the enemies¡¯ front line, shattering it, and tearing down the army of land-walking seals and water horses. Weapons splintered, armor groaned, and wolves growled. It was a mess of combat, but I¡¯d turned the tide for the feathers.


    Ceras saw the wolves and beamed, unleashing the rest of their aura and shattering the lake witch¡¯s shield with a deafening clap of thunder. Unprotected, she didn¡¯t last long, dying on the very shoreline she predicted Ceras would fall on.


    The few remaining kelpies and selkies fought as best they could. But my wolves and the feathers tore them to shreds. That didn¡¯t stop one from raising her arm and hurling a shell spear at me, though.


    Pain flooded my lower abdomen as the goddamn thing sank into me about half a foot above my left hip. My concentration shattered, and the wolves dissipated. But I¡¯d done my part. Ceras led the feathers to victory, even killing the selkie that¡¯d wounded me.


    Falling to my knees for a second time, I felt energy and blood pouring out of me. That¡¯s when the shaking began. Goddamit, this really hurt. I tried not to move, but the urge to pull this fucking spear out of my abdomen was overwhelming.


    I reached for the driftwood pole with my closest hand, right around the time a larger hand grabbed mine. Looking up, I saw Ceras. They had a cut on the side of their neck that¡¯d been quickly stuffed with a torn piece of fabric. And a couple of fingers on their right hand were broken, bent at odd angles.


    But kindness and strength abounded in their touch and gaze.


    ¡°Let¡¯s leave that for a healer to look at, huh?¡± they said.


    Nodding, I accepted a hand-up from them for the second time. And together, we limped to the barracks just inside the rear part of the castle. It was as far as I got before my legs gave out. Ceras helped me sit down on their cot and started to place some bandages around the wound, which hurt, of course. I squinted and groaned.


    ¡°You did good,¡± Ceras said, sitting down beside me.


    ¡°You believed in me,¡± I said.


    We smiled and high-fived but immediately groaned afterward.


    After about an hour, I was fighting off sleep, but the barracks door opened. In walked none other than the Raven Queen, looking over her feathers and Ceras and I.


    She sighed and smiled before leading a group of healers in. They were clothed in white and wore masks over their faces.


    My mistress brought in extra bandages and potions that seemed to help with the minor stuff, small cuts, and bruises. Then I watched her personally wrap wounds and thank each feather for their help tonight.


    They were in high spirits, and most told the queen it was just their duty. But she had none of it.


    ¡°I owe each of you a debt of gratitude, as well as our brothers and sisters who died defending Featherstone today. I want all of you on bed rest until you¡¯re ready to return to duty. . . if you even want to after today,¡± the queen said, bowing her head to the room.


    Everyone fell silent. Nobody quite knew how to react to our monarch bowing like this. But she felt it a necessary show of respect, so we waited for her to be done.


    She went back to helping bandage the wounded feathers after that, and I saw such admiration in her guards. My mistress truly cared for each of their sacrifices and listened to each one give their report on the battle.


    At last, she got to Ceras and me.


    I was glad a couple healers had pulled the spear out before she arrived before I did a fair bit of cursing and howling. That hurt like a motherfucker. But they took good care of it, using their glamour to slowly close the wound and wrapping it in several layers of gauze.


    Ceras had their fingers set, and the neck wound sealed as well.


    When the queen walked over to us, we tried to stand, but Varella shook her head.


    ¡°You two did something amazing today,¡± she whispered.


    We nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m very grateful,¡± she said.


    ¡°What about the dryads? Are they okay?¡± I asked.


    Varella nodded.


    ¡°The festival ended a little bit ago, and they got on their way, none the wiser,¡± my mistress said.


    I sighed in relief.


    ¡°And. . .where is Lily?¡± I asked.


    ¡°She¡¯s on her way to Eagle¡¯s Loft with a battalion of talons and feathers. By sunset tomorrow, Lady Harroldsen will be dead. And I¡¯ll place a steward in charge of that hall until I can find a more permanent solution.¡±


    Shivering at how quickly Varella had responded in kind, I remembered she was first and foremost a dark queen of Faerie.


    But as she carried me back to my room cradling me in her arms, I remembered she was the mistress I¡¯d given myself to just weeks ago.


    The Raven Queen placed me on my bed and pulled a quilt over me. Then she pulled up a stool and sat next to her wounded pet.


    ¡°What you did today was risky,¡± she said. ¡°And, I didn¡¯t give you permission to offer yourself as a prisoner in exchange for my safety.¡±


    Scoffing, I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Maybe you haven¡¯t heard, but I¡¯ve promoted myself to the Wolf of Featherstone. From now on, I call the shots. I¡¯ve got glamour¡ª¡°


    ¡°My glamour.¡±


    ¡°. . .Your glamour. And a wolf inside of me that can take down anyone. So, I think the days of needing permission are over,¡± I said, full brat on display.


    The Raven Queen considered this. Then she did that fucking thing again. She ran her nails through my hair, and I just didn¡¯t have the strength to out-brat her after today¡¯s battle.


    Hell, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d have the strength to overcome her touch even if there was no battle, I thought.


    So I did what was expected of me because it was my only option. My exhausted mind and body made sure of that.


    I cooed and leaned into her scritches, closing my eyes. Shit felt really familiar. . . not that I cared. I told myself I hated that.


    But you don¡¯t really, I thought.


    A couple of minutes later, when I was halfway between awake and in a trance, my mistress said, ¡°You will not offer to sacrifice yourself for me ever again, my pet. Give me your word.¡±


    There was some reason I wasn¡¯t supposed to give in, right? I couldn¡¯t just keep giving the Raven Queen what she wanted because touch was my love language. Oh, what the fuck. It just felt too good. Everything my mistress did to me felt good.


    ¡°I promise not to offer myself as a sacrifice for you ever again,¡± I mumbled.


    The queen chuckled.


    ¡°You¡¯re so easily broken, my pet. I love that about you. It amuses me greatly,¡± she said.


    Eventually, her scritches slowed.


    ¡°Ceras told me about the lake witch¡¯s spell. It sounds pretty awful. Can I ask what she made you see?¡± Varella asked softly.


    I kept my eyes closed and sighed. Fuck. I guess it was better to talk and get it out rather than keep that shit inside and let it eat me alive. I bet that¡¯s how my father ended up as an abuser. Some sort of psychological damage or another, not that I¡¯d ever forgive him for it.


    ¡°I saw. . . my father,¡± I said.


    My mistress said nothing.


    ¡°It left me pretty rattled, and honestly, if Ceras hadn¡¯t saved me when they did, I think it might have broken me beyond repair.¡±


    Now Varella sighed. She didn¡¯t stop running her fingers through my hair, but this was the slowest she¡¯d moved since carrying me in here.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, my pet. You should never have had to face him again, illusion or otherwise,¡± the Raven Queen said.


    Then, silence claimed the room once more.


    ¡°You know. . . what I think it showed me is I have people to protect me here. Ceras rescued me from the witch. You rescued me from the sheriff and his men. And Lily rescued me from my loneliness,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s what I really gained from our bargain. It wasn¡¯t just a sanctuary of the body, but of the mind and heart as well. I made the right choice to submit and become your pet.¡±


    I heard the queen¡¯s heartbeat slow a bit at my conclusion. But what that meant psychologically was anyone¡¯s guess. I couldn¡¯t predict the actions of my mistress.


    Opening my eyes and looking at Varella, I whispered, ¡°I love you. And I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s Stockholm Syndrom. Nietzsche can eat a dick. I love you.¡±


    The queen¡¯s smile was a somber expression. Her eyes were unreadable. Slowly, she leaned down and pulled me in until our lips were touching. And I could taste the night wind she soared on so freely. It was right. It was good. I had no regrets.


    As she pulled away slowly, my mistress spoke.


    ¡°When Lily told me what¡¯d happened as I stepped off the stage, I was worried. And while I initially struck our bargain out of some strange sense of amusement and curiosity, I realized in a moment of uncertainty that I was afraid of something.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°What could a dark queen of Faerie with all your power possibly fear?¡± I asked.


    Her eyes softened a bit as she whispered, ¡°Losing you.¡±


    Gasping, I scanned her face and found the queen bared her heart to me for the second time tonight. But it was the first time with the two of us alone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any problem sharing you with Lily. It was far from unpredictable. But Sierra, if you died. . . that would hurt me more than any iron blade,¡± she said.


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t lose me. Everything is fine. I¡¯m still here with you. And I¡¯ll always be right here with you,¡± I said. ¡°Featherstone is my home now, and I¡¯m never leaving.¡±


    At last, a small smile appeared on her lips.


    ¡°I love you, my pet. And you are truly mine. So, no, you won¡¯t ever be leaving. You¡¯re stuck here with me,¡± she said.


    I kissed her this time. She seemed surprised but leaned into our connection. We kissed again and still once more for good measure.


    When we parted to catch our breath, I touched the side of the queen¡¯s face. She pressed her forehead to mine.


    ¡°I want to ask a promise from you,¡± I said.


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    Looking deep into her violet eyes, I found the courage to speak again. Because I knew she wouldn¡¯t be angry with me. My mistress was more curious than anything.


    ¡°I already asked Lily and she agreed. Now I¡¯m asking you, my mistress. Please give me your word that you¡¯ll never ask me to choose between you two,¡± I said. ¡°I love you both so much, and if pressed on that choice, I think my heart would very well just stop beating. The pain would be too great.¡±


    Varella thought for a moment, pulling her head back and then raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°And my wing already gave you her word?¡± she asked.


    I nodded.


    My mistress considered this information for several more seconds while looking down at my quilt. Then, her gaze met my own, and she agreed.


    ¡°I promise you, my pet, that I will never ask you to choose between the two of us. I bear no jealousy toward your girlfriend. Nor do I have any desire to relinquish you,¡± she said.


    Sighing and finally feeling that weight slide off my shoulders, I rubbed my cheek against her hands.


    My mistress took the hint and laughed.


    ¡°Very well, my pet.¡±


    She resumed her scritching, and I resumed making tiny noises of contentment that occasionally earned me a grin from the Raven Queen.


    For the majority of my 21 years in the human world, my life was shit. And while Faerie presented its own dangers, I was more than happy to now call this place home and myself the fae queen¡¯s pet.