“I personally take that as a compliment,” my brother replied, his sapphire gaze alight with approval as he studied our mate.
I released her, aware of what he wanted, and watched as he pulled her into a reassuring kiss. Titus grabbed her next, then Sol, and finally Vox, leaving our little queen winded and breathless by the end.
But she looked ready to slay.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“I know,” I replied. “Lead the way, little queen.”
CLAIRE RESEMBLED a goddess as she answered questions from the head of the table, her stature poised and confident, her expression jubilant.
My mate was born for leadership, just like Exos and Cyrus, who both stood beside her now.
I hung out in the back, observing everyone and monitoring Claire’s mood through our bond. All this council shit wasn’t for me. I preferred to handle discord with my fists, not clever words, thus making it a good thing Claire had mates like Exos, Cyrus, and Vox for balance.
“I don’t like the way that Shifter Fae is acting around our mate,” Sol grumbled beside me, his eyes on the vibrant-haired male talking to Claire.
“He’s a peacock,” Vox replied. “It’s in his nature to strut like that.”
“Well, if he keeps cocking his head like that, he’s going to become a featherless bird,” Sol muttered back at him. “Actually, isn’t that what River said to cook for Thank You Day?”
“He said we need a turkey,” Vox corrected. “And I think it’s called Thanks Day, without the ‘you.’?”
“Thanks Day, then. But what’s the difference between a peacock and a turkey?” Sol asked.
“I… I don’t know.” Vox glanced around the big guy to look at me. “What’s the difference between a peacock and a turkey? They’re both birds, right?”
“How the fuck would I know?” I wasn’t the chef in our mate-circle. I also knew nothing about human food.
“We’ll have to ask River,” Vox said.
“Or we could pluck that flirty shifter and roast him instead,” Sol muttered, his earthy gaze narrowing as the brightly dressed male tossed his feathered head back on a laugh.
My lips twitched. “At least he seems to be entertaining Claire’s ideas.” Unlike several other fae council members in the room.
The notion of an Interrealm Fae Academy stirred a great deal of conflicting results. Some were open to the idea. Others felt it would only exacerbate the abomination issue.
And then there were those who had chosen to miss the meeting entirely—namely, the Hell Fae.
I would never forget the day Cyrus and Exos explained the various kingdoms to Claire, and her horrified reaction to learning demon-like fae existed.
“You told me demons weren’t real!” she’d snapped. “And werewolves, too. You… you said that was all human bullshit, or whatever.”
“Technically, demons and werewolves don’t exist, so I didn’t really lie,” Exos had replied in that holier-than-thou tone he seemed to favor.
“Yes, the appropriate terms for them are Hell Fae and Shifter Fae,” Cyrus had added.
Claire had just glowered at them both, then she’d stomped outside to release a stunning array of elements that had left us all in awe of her talents. Afterward, she’d returned with a great deal of questions.
However, after learning about the Hell Fae’s penchant for stealing fae for their bride trials, she hadn’t been all that eager to meet them. So I supposed it was a good thing they kept skipping the meetings.
Except, she had mentioned wanting them here. Something about how they would appreciate the school since their breed of fae had been created through a series of abominations. She felt that it meant they could aid in the organization of the school programs, and had also commented on how maybe a little collaboration between the realms would help cool some of their notorious ire toward the other fae.
An optimistic outlook, one I admired her for sharing. But it would never come to fruition. The Hell Fae had no interest in reconciling with the kingdoms that had basically cast them all to the underworld—hence their name.
Sol stiffened beside me as two Paradox Fae approached Claire with glowing swords on their hips. Exos shook hands with one of them, his expression stoic and regal. Cyrus followed suit.
“I’ve never liked time dwellers,” I muttered, agreeing with Sol’s aggressive stance. “They’re tricky little buggers.”