Court of Claws (Blood of a Fae, #2)

by Briar Boleyn

“To my court, I suppose I should say. You’re in the heart of the Siabra Empire. In the city of Noctasia, in the kingdom of Sorega.”

“My consort. In a sense.” My jaw dropped. “Your...consort? What the hell does that mean? They think we’re what...? Married?” My heart was pounding in my chest. “No, no,” Draven said quickly. “Not married.” My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then what? You said ‘in a sense.’ In what sense?” Draven cleared his throat. “In Siabra culture, those of royal blood may designate a person who is not their official spouse as their... Well, as their...” The blood drained from my face. “Your mistress? They think I’m your fucking mistress. Is that it?” He nodded. A little too quickly. “That’s the closest term, yes. The position is nothing like the crude word Lyrastra used. You are not a whore.” “Well, I know that,” I erupted. “And you know that. But does your entire court of Siabra know that?” “They know that I’ve brought home a mysterious and beautiful fae woman who is clearly of Valtain origin based on her unmistakable appearance, and that I’ve declared her to be my official mistress. Under my protection and part of my house, now and for all time,” Draven said quietly.

“I know what I said,” he assured me. “You won’t like this, but we’re sharing this room. If you’re trapped with me, well, then I’m trapped with you, too, Morgan.” “What. Do. You. Mean.” My jaw felt so tight I was surprised I could get the words out at all.

“I mean we need to be convincing. The court must believe that this is real, even if you and I know that it isn’t.” He touched his hand to the door. “I’ll be returning here every night to sleep. And only sleep. We’ll share a bed to keep up appearances.” He hesitated, then his lips twitched. “After all...” I wanted to punch the hint of the smirk from his handsome horned face. I looked back at the bed. There was a table beside it with a large, expensive-looking porcelain vase. “No. Don’t say it. I’m warning you.” “After all,” he finished, ignoring me and opening the door. “It’s not like it’s going to be the first time.”

Odessa di Rhondan gave a tight nod.

With stitching, one could go from the city to the palace and back again easily in the span of just a few minutes.

“I don’t think I’ve made things as clear as I should have, Morgan,” he said, his deep voice almost conversational. “You can choose to think of me as your enemy all you like, but I’m going to protect you whether you like it or not.”

While the fae of Valtain had dominated southern Eskira at one time—until their sudden departure for who-knew-where, the Siabra seemed to rule the entire continent of Myntra. The Court of the Umbral Flame was their seat of power, but there were smaller Siabra courts all over Myntra, ruled over by the higher ranks of the nobility. Sorega contained the most prominent and the greatest number of Siabra, but other races inhabited Myntra, including–I was shocked to read–humans.

“But you,” he continued, ignoring me. “I will never apologize for saving you. I will never fucking regret coming for you. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. So don’t ask me to say sorry. Don’t expect me to. And don’t you ever, ever fucking say you didn’t deserve to be saved again, do you hear me? Listen to me clearly, you are worthy. You deserved saving. You deserved much more.” A dark look came over his face. “So much more than I’ve given you.”

“She had delivered ten stillborn children uncomplaining,” Draven said softly. “And she would have gone to her death, silent and still uncomplaining.”

“It’s complicated. As the crown prince and heir to the empire, Tabar had the right to do as he saw fit. Even if it meant killing his wife and taking another. By robbing Lyrastra of her death, I robbed her of an honorable way out of an impossible situation.”

She’s one of the High King’s daughters.”

“I do like you, Morgan. Why the hell would I have saved you otherwise?” He began striding out of the temple. “There’s something about you. You’ve got... grit.”

“Don’t you want the best?” Odessa asked. “Because that’s what the prince is giving you. The best. Steelhaven is my creation. And these women you see around you? They’re the best you could hope to go up against. Better than most men. For generations, the court has cultivated various factions of trained warriors. You’re looking at an elite force–the Steelmaidens. And you’re lucky to even be looking.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those women who believes men are always the superior warriors. Or that only a man can truly challenge you in a sparring ring.” Her words stung. “Of course not! My best friend is...” I stopped. “She was... an incredible knight. She would have been.” Odessa’s face softened slightly. “The girl we tried to save?” I nodded. “And back in Camelot, Dame Halyna was one of the best knights I’ve ever seen. She trained the squires.”

What sort of a man would do all of that for a woman he didn’t love? Perhaps that was the better question.

Crafted from a sheer, opalescent fabric, the gown was the very embodiment of beauty. With a breathtaking palette of emerald greens and sapphire blues, I was reminded of moonlit forests and tranquil waters. The bodice was a deep shade of ocean blue. Silver threadwork, evocative of starlit vines, intertwined along the high halter-style neckline, while from the waist down, the gown cascaded in layers of flowing, gossamer-thin fabrics.

Green chiffon, soft as a summer breeze, lent the skirt an ethereal elegance, falling and draping in asymmetrical layers, each one decorated with delicate silver beadwork. While there was a more solid piece of fabric down the center of the skirt, the overall translucency of the material would also allow the wearer's bare hips and legs to be glimpsed with every step. The gown was sleeveless and backless. Slender shimmering silver straps crisscrossed over the back of the dress, adding to its sensuous allure.

“Your prince cares more about his half-blood plaything than his people, Siabra,” she screamed over the chaos. “More about power than about redemption. We all know the reason. Is he above you all? Does he think he will be exempt? Kill the girl. She dies here tonight. He will have nothing. For nothing is what we deserve.”

“This. The touch of your waist, your hips, your skin beneath my hands? It sets me on fire, Morgan. I'm in awe of you, every part of you. Can't you tell? I'm spellbound. You've awakened something in me I thought was long dead. Something I never thought I'd ever come close to feeling again. And now I live for your presence. For the hope of your laugh, your smile. All of this. The court. The throne. Bringing you here. I know I can never convince you, but it is all for you. What I do is for you, always.”

“Your brother and his court? They had no idea who you really were, what you were capable of. But I see you, Morgan Pendragon. I see you truly for everything you are and everything you will be and I claim you as mine.”

He had killed for me. I knew he would not hesitate to do so again. What was there about that knowledge that filled me with such primal lust and beyond the lust–pure trust?

I trusted him more than I could ever hate him. I trusted him with my life or I knew I wouldn't have been there with him right now.

Behind the glorious tales of battlecats and Fae Kings, whispers of an ancient prophecy stir. It is said that within the Leap of Faith lies the key to unraveling the veiled truths of the realm. Only those who possess the courage to take the leap, to trust in the unknown, shall unlock the secrets that have long been concealed. The battlecats, guardians of the Leap, hold the secrets of both the past and the future, awaiting those who dare to seek the answers.”

She sang a song of tragic loss. About a fae king whose favorite daughter was stolen away by her own mother, a queen consumed by darkness.

Sarrasine, with her haunting melodies and captivating voice, was traveling through Aercanum, no one knew quite where. She cared nothing for the ongoing war, oblivious to everything but the sound of her own ballads.

In Morgan, our precious daughter, his dreams had materialized, breathing life into the legacy he thought he had lost forever.

To him, Morgan was his legacy. To me, she was my whole world. And so I walked with my daughter, my small one, my sweet, straight through the city, straight through the very market where I had first heard the whispers.

Breena shook her head stubbornly. “It’s not about striking fear. It’s about showing how different you are from them.”

But while you're laughing all alone, I'll be here thanking the gods I have a woman beside me who leaves me with no doubt that she is my equal in every way. Morgan Pendragon is far from insignificant. She's a force of destiny and you would do well not to trifle with her or ever let her name cross your lips again.”

“Do you know how hard I've tried to stay away from you?” he whispered. “Do you know how long I’ve waited? And in the span of a few nights, all of it has been undone. I can't keep away. I know I don't deserve you. You've forgiven too much already. But I’m not strong enough to resist. You're my every weakness, my every temptation. And I...”