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Indigo
It’s the warmth that seeps in first. Delicious warmth, and the feeling of being safe and comforted in loving arms. I smile and stretch, wondering how I could possibly have slept so long and so dreamlessly that I can’t even remember the night before. I can’t even remember...
My eyelids pop open. I sit bolt upright, then grab my head as a wave of dizziness washes over me. I fall back into the pillows and groan. What the hell did I do last night? How much did I have to drink?
Awareness that this is not my own bed arrives slowly, and as it does, patches of memory begin to return. The ritual. All those leering faces. The pure evil leaching from that hideous fae queen.
This time I sit up with a bit more decorum, and the dizziness stays away. I’m in a bedroom, quite sparsely furnished with only the bed I’m lying in, a side table, a wardrobe tucked in the corner of the room, and a couple of chairs set on a rug in front of a small fireplace. The sparse nature of it all should be unpleasant, but it is not. Instead, there’s a warm and cozy feel to the space, which is enhanced by the lit fire in the grate. The flames provide a gentle golden glow in addition to several lit sconces dotted around the stone walls.
The bed itself is huge, constructed of wood and with a silver-gray quilt covering my lower half. It is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in, and the feeling of warmth and security stays with me, even though I’m now sitting up.
“Where am I?”
A slight chuckle to my left has my head turning, and I realize Tarrien is kneeling by the bed. He looks exhausted. He is strained around the eyes, and there are lines at the sides of his mouth that I don’t remember being there before.
I want to reach up and caress him, but my hand closest to him is clasped in one of his. I become aware that the sense of security emanates from our connection. I regard our clasped fingers and decide to leave my hand resting in his.
“Welcome back, Indie,” he says. “You’re in my bed. In Faerie.”
“Am I? But...” I frown, staring around. “Aren’t you from the Winter Court? I imagined something different to this. All, I don’t know, ice and coldness. This is...lovely. Homely.” I glance at the fireplace. “Won’t the fire melt things?”
This time his laugh is full-throated.
“I do hail from the Winter Court, which is where we are now, and there is quite a bit of snow and ice outside. Inside, our homes are whatever we want them to be. And I enjoy an open fire, much of the time. It hasn’t melted anything in the past few hundred years, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
His expression changes from lightly amused to serious. “Which brings me to you. How do you feel, Indie? Are you...fine?”
At his words, the whole slew of memory comes rushing back in then, not just in patches this time. So much blood. So much terror.
I shudder and rip my hand out of Tarrien’s, before reaching down under the covers with my free hand, exploring my thigh. The wound has disappeared, and I feel...well. There’s no other word to describe the sense of physical well-being. My mental well-being, on the other hand, may take a while to recover.
“They drained my blood. Didn’t they? I don’t think I should feel this well after...after...”
I can’t finish. Tears prick at my eyes and I bite my lip, trying to use willpower to hold them in. Tarrien jumps up from his position on the floor and sits on the edge of the bed. His white shirt and dark trousers show off his muscled physique. In this ordinary-looking bedroom setting, I could almost imagine we are two normal human beings, in the human world, in the tentative early stages of a developing relationship. No fae magic, or madness, or evil creatures running around trying to kill me. I stifle a laugh before it turns into a sob.
“It’s okay, Indie. You’re safe. I promise you, no one is going to hurt you, here.”
“I know. I...” I fold my arms across my belly, clutching my elbows.
He tentatively places his arm across my shoulders and draws me in to his side. His delicious scent rises around me, causing butterflies in my belly. I allow the embrace, leaning into him. His body emits warmth and I crave warmth. I crave his warmth in particular. Which sounds ridiculous, given he’s a winter fae. And yet, here we are in Winter Faerie, and I’m being warmed by an open fire and a fae warrior who is hot in every sense of the word.
“Are all winter fae as warm as you?” I ask.
“Winter fae vary a lot. Some are warm, and others—like winter warriors—carry the power of ice permanently within our veins. The connection with winter is supposed to keep us focused on our role as protector.” He lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Though, for some reason, it does seem as though your presence heats me up, more than the norm.”
“Oh.” A small smile plays on my lips. “I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing from your point of view. But I have to admit, I kind of like that idea, actually.”
His arm tightens around me. “Several days ago, I’d have insisted it was a very bad thing for a winter warrior. Now...”
He pauses, and I tilt up my head to stare at him.
“Now?” I prompt, when he doesn’t speak.
He meets my gaze squarely. “Now, I very much like that idea, too.”
This close, I see the interesting flecks of silver that decorate the gray of his irises. The color is entrancing, and draws me in until my breath hitches and I can’t think straight.
Last time I saw Tarrien, he was wearing dark fae armor and waving a sword in the air, his eyes flashing silver and the promise of death etched across his features. He should have been terrifying. He was terrifying. But he was also magnificent. A true hero riding to my rescue.
Right now, he seems much more approachable, though no less magnificent. My pulse rate begins to speed up.
“It was definitely you, who came to rescue me? I didn’t imagine that?”
“Of course, it was me.” His voice is slightly indignant.
My tense muscles relax at the tone. He has an ego, though I’m willing to forgive that given the kindness and courage he has displayed toward me.
“Though when we arrived,” he says, “it looked like you were doing a damn good job of holding them off all by yourself, little banshee.”
“Hmm.” I try to laugh but it comes out sounding a bit pathetic. “I was pretty much all out of banshee song. Good thing you appeared when you did. I was down to a pathetic little squeak.”
He squeezes me super-tight for a moment, as if he knows how much effort it is taking for me to try and keep things light. “In some ways I’m glad you passed out, Indie. There was a lot of death in that room. I would not have wanted to put your banshee half through that horror and carnage.”
This time my chuckle is slightly more genuine. “A positive from a negative, then. Though I have to admit, I honestly didn’t expect to survive. How did I survive? I think I lost a lot of blood back there in...where was I held, Tarrien?”
His expression turns grave. “You were in a place known as the Badlands. It hovers on the edge of the fae realm, almost in the human realm but not quite. It is neither one place nor the other. Right at the edge of The Nothing.”
Badlands. That sounds pretty much on a par with what it felt like to be there. And at the edge of nothing? I shudder and turn my face into Tarrien’s chest. His scent rises, subtle and comforting.
“Did you use your winter warrior skills and heal me?”
“I did.”
How can a man have two such contrasting sides? A warrior, and a healer. Someone who forges into battle seemingly without fear, slashing and chopping and killing without mercy, and then in the next instant he can turn around and be the complete opposite: a healer who can bring life back to those who hover on the edge of death.
In some ways, he reminds me of my own banshee side. The song of death is also the song of life; of new beginnings. Two opposing yet complementary sides. One cannot exist without the other.
Tarrien fascinates me in a way no one ever has before.
I realize he is still speaking, and tune back in. “It was touch and go, for a while. You were right. You had lost a lot of blood, Indie. Far too much. For a few minutes there...”
His voice trails off and I tilt my head back so I can study his face again. His mouth is a grim line and his features communicate guilt as well as tiredness. What on earth does he have to be guilty about?
“I thought I’d delayed too long. I cast strands to begin the healing process while I battled there in the Badlands, but even so, I parried insults with Rhiannon when I should have focusing purely on you.” He shakes his head, not trying to hide his self-disgust.
“I don’t remember.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You were not even partly conscious, by the time I brought you back here. I thought I wasn’t going to be strong enough to retrieve all the strands that keep you connected to life. I thought I’d failed you.”
Pain flashes in his eyes, and I pat him gently on the chest.
“But you didn’t. And you were strong enough.” I wriggle a bit, stretching my arms and legs and experimenting to see the extent of my physical state. “See? I’m all fixed. You should cut yourself some slack, Tarrien.”
“Slack?”
“You know, rope. It’s...oh, never mind. Just focus on the fact that I’m here and I’m fine, and it’s all thanks to you.”
He removes his arm from my shoulders, and runs his hands through his hair. For the first time since we met, he looks rather dishevelled. It does nothing to lessen his overall sexiness. My woman bits choose this moment to wake up. I try to ignore the ache of desire between my legs, and move a lock of hair away from where it has fallen across his cheek.
“How long have I been out of it, Tarrien?”
“A day and a half since I brought you back here.”
“Have you had any rest in that time?”
“No. At first I was working to bring you back, and then... well.” His cheeks darken in a slight blush. My brows rise at the sight.
“And then?” I prompt.
“And then, once you moved out of danger into a more natural state, I just enjoyed watching you sleep. That probably sounds creepy to you, right?”
A chuckle bursts out of me. “No creepier than finding out you’d been stalking around spying on me for a week, when I didn’t know you were there.”
“Indie, I apologize for—”
“Stop apologizing. I’m teasing you, Tarrien. You know, if we are going to spend time together, then I think we’re going to have to extend that sense of humor of yours.”
“I want to spend time with you, and I would not want anyone else teaching me how to be less serious. But there’s something you should know...something I should have told you straight away...”
I sigh, perhaps a little more dramatically than I need to, but he doesn’t take the hint. Seems like “serious” Tarrien is still in play.
“I couldn’t sense where you were straight away, when they first snatched you from the club,” he says. There is a note of apology in his tone. “It wasn’t me who located you in the Badlands, Indie. It was Renna. Renna, of all people! Once she did, I was able to home in on your essence, but you have your mother to thank for finding you in the first place.”
“Renna? She helped find me?”
He nods. “If I had located you sooner, then maybe you wouldn’t have been traumatized, or hurt. It’s my fault you almost—”
“Stop! None of this is your fault. It’s that goddamn exiled stupid fucking queen of yours.” I frown. “Our queen, I guess, if you count a half-fae as one of your own. And...”
Here’s the tricky bit. I don’t quite know how to raise this with Tarrien. There’s simply no easy way to say it. In the end, I take a deep breath and blurt it out.
“The person helping her with her evil plan might have been related to...you. I think—well, actually, I don’t think, I know—it was...your father. He looked almost exactly like you, and given what you told me about his relationship with the banished queen...well...” I shrug, not needing to say more.
There. That was gentle enough, wasn’t it?
Tarrien stands and begins to pace back and forth across the room. His distress is evident in the jerky movements and the grim set of his features.
Hmm. Maybe not gentle enough.
“I’m sorry,” I add. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, Indie. I know my father is involved. The queen as much as confirmed it, before she escaped. I always suspected, which is why I’ve continued to do Renna’s bidding for so long. Trying to make amends, in my own way, for something I always felt guilty about on my family’s behalf.”
My heart squeezes tight when I see his anguish and I wish I could tell him otherwise. But he deserves to know the truth.
“He was there, Tarrien, and I don’t think he was helping her, as such. I think he was in control of them all. Even the queen, though she wants everyone to believe she’s in charge. He—your father—might be the actual mastermind behind all of this...horror.”
“I didn’t know for sure, Indie.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Not until I burst into that ritual and saw Rhiannon standing behind you. She almost brought down the Winter Court with her betrayal and her hunger for power.” He finally stops pacing and turns to face me, his eyes steely gray.
“But he is the one who creates and controls those abominations. Not her. He did it. And I will do everything in my power to stop him. I don’t care what it takes. The day my father chose evil over good, is the day he ceased to be my blood.”
I don’t know what drives me, other than instinct. I throw back the bed covers and jump out, rushing over to Tarrien and sliding my arms around his waist.
After a moment, his arms come around me, too. The embrace feels right, and I don’t want to let him go.
Eventually, I realize that I’m wearing a white nightdress, and no underwear. None whatsoever.
“Umm, what happened to that dress I had on when you rescued me?” I ask.
He wrinkles his nose. “That blood-soaked piece of fabric that barely covered anything, even though it reached your feet? I had it burned.”
“Oh. Good. But...” I swallow nervously. “Who undressed me, when I got here?”
“I did.” His brows rise up as he stares down at me. “I don’t understand. Is that an issue? I’ve seen it all before, remember?”
Oh, yes, I remember.
My cheeks begin to heat, as do other parts of me.
“I don’t have an issue with that,” I say, my husky voice already communicating my growing need.
Tarrien crushes me against him, leaving me in no doubt whatsoever about his need being very much in sync with mine. His flesh is firm against my belly.
I release a shaky breath, and stand on my tiptoes to receive his kiss. The added height brings his organ into contact with my aching clit instead of my belly, and I release a moan that disappears into Tarrien just as his mouth connects with mine.
His answering groan is deep and rough as we press against each other. The sound reverberates all the way through me. My lips explore his with abandon, and he deepens the kiss as our tongues slip and slide and dance with each other in an erotic parody of actual lovemaking.
When we finally break apart, we are both breathing fast. There are spots of color in Tarrien’s cheeks, and I’m sure my own face is equally flushed.
“Can you do that thing again, the trick with the disappearing clothing?” I can hardly speak, due to the waves of desire that wash over me.
“Hmm. That’s a big ask, Indie, considering how much clothing you have on.”
A bubble of laughter pops out of me. “I guess you’ve passed your first lesson in humor with flying colors.”
He does a little wave with one of his hands, and we are both instantly naked. His skin against mine is warm and smooth, and I run my hands appreciatively over his chest and across his shoulders.
One of his hands cups a breast. “I believe I am a quick learner, Indie.”
His mouth descends and he draws in a nipple, sucking and licking so deeply that I feel the pull all the way down in my womb.
“Oh, I think you must be. That feels so good,” I gasp.
He raises his head and stares at me, his eyes all silver. No gray whatsoever.
“That is only the beginning of the onslaught, Indie.”
When he places his hands on my buttocks and lifts me up, I wrap my legs around his hips. He kisses me again, and carries me back to the bed. He lays me on my back and then kneels on the floor between my open legs.
“I hope this feels even better.” He dips his head between my legs, and takes my clit into his mouth, licking and sucking until I can’t think at all, but only feel. The sensation is so intense I moan and buck beneath him, the pressure building to an intensity that is beyond anything I have ever experienced.
“Tarrien, I can’t hold on. I’m going to...please, I need you inside me...”
He is up in a flash, onto the bed, and he settles his rigid flesh right at the entrance to my channel. Everything down there is slick and wet from his mouth, and when I lift my hips to meet him, the head of his cock slides in without any resistance whatsoever.
He grunts, and thrusts hard, seating himself fully inside me. Again, I wrap my legs around his hips and buttocks. The feel of his fullness within and the weight of him on my outer sex are like twin pressures that are exquisite and almost unbearable.
He balances on his elbows and stares down at me. “When I was healing you, Indie, I had to dig deep inside to find your essence.”
“Really?” I jiggle my hips, reminding him to move.
Instead, his hips remain still. He bends his head and kisses me so gently on the lips that the connection is almost not there. But the effect is so intense it takes me right to the edge of the precipice. If he moves now, I will explode around him in a violent orgasm.
“I found your banshee essence, Indie. Deep down inside you. I found your life threads, but I also found your death magic.”
Before I can react in any way, he breaks out into the biggest smile I have ever seen on his face. The smile creates joy in my heart.
“It was beautiful, Indie. So beautiful. When I bound myself to you, to bring you back, I experienced something I have never before experienced, ever, in my life.”
He stares down at me in wonder, and I reach up and cup his cheek.
“You weren’t afraid? Death is terrifying, to most. Even to me, sometimes.”
“I felt like I had found my soul mate, Indie. I felt like I had found my other half.”
With that, he begins to thrust, gently at first and then faster, pounding into me so hard that my head bumps against the headboard.
I don’t care. The connection is perfect. He saw my banshee power and he wasn’t afraid. He saw me—the real me—and it didn’t scare him away. The rush of desire is so sudden and explosive, the sensation building so quickly, that I tip over the precipice within seconds, falling into the most intense orgasm of my life.
He releases a guttural roar and follows me into climax, his hot seed rushing into me and our bodies bucking and shuddering together.
As we slowly come back to the moment, the enormity of what he said overwhelms me. I begin to tremble, and the urge to cry becomes so strong I close my eyes tight to contain the emotion.
“What is it, my love?” He presses gentle kisses on my eyelids, and I squeeze them even tighter shut for a moment, before opening my eyes and facing him.
“What you said, about seeing my death magic. The source of my banshee power.”
“Yes. Is it okay that I told you? Does it make you...uncomfortable, to have had me poking around inside you?”
Even now, he is doubtful.
“You saved my life, Tarrien. I will be forever grateful for that. It’s definitely not that worrying me.” I frown, trying to find the right words. “If you found my banshee song, then maybe others can find it, too. The queen—”
“Try not to think of her, Indie. She will never again be a threat to you. I promise.”
“But it was so awful, Tarrien. They said they would drain me. If I gave them my name, apparently that would amplify the power in my blood, so they wouldn’t need to take as much. But I wouldn’t give it to them. I knew it wouldn’t make any difference to me. I figured I was gonna be dead anyway. But I was hoping it might make a difference to others.”
A particular memory rises and I gasp. “She said she’s going after my siblings. She’s going to drain them all. Because I didn’t give them my name. And if she does, then it will be all my fault.”
