Page 172 of The Fallen Fae King

“Unfair.”

Elatha rolls onto her stomach. “I give up on both of you. You’re beyond the wisdom of the Druids.”

“No one is beyond my wisdom,” a somber voice says from the doorway.

“Wren!” I draw back from Bai and rush toward my friend.

Wren closes the heavy door behind him, before waving his hand and sealing it with magic. It’s a trick that he does to make sure that no eavesdropper can hear through the barrier.

It’s been useful many times, while I’ve been planning battles.

I wish I had that skill because I would also use it to fuck my Omega in interesting places like underneath Aurelius’ desk, and he wouldn’t even know.

Although, he’d still smell us. So, I’d have to also use rune magic to hide our scents…

“The King finally remembers us, does he?” Wren demands. “And you’re already daydreaming? Thinking about your knot again?”

“Sounds like you are. Also, how could I have forgotten your handsome face? I’ve even missed your scolding.”

“Stay longer and you’ll hear more.”

When Wren limps into the room, I am concerned that unlike Elatha, he is not wearing the Draca army uniform. Instead, he is still dressed in his druidic white tunic and plaid cloak.

Wren is my most devoted follower, despite his surly attitude.

He would set himself alight if he thought that it furthered the Unseelie cause, and sometimes, his fervor frightens me.

He is strikingly tall and handsome with large hazel eyes. I didn’t expect him to keep his head shaved after the death of the druids, but he has maintained all their rules.

He’s the last of them living.

He has told me that he must keep their spirit alive.

Once, in Rune Forest, I found him carving rune marks into the dirt in front of an oak.

He dragged me down to kneel next to me.

Wren’s face was burning with passion. “The dragons can steal our court and kill our people, but as long as our land remains, then we are free. Do you understand? I wish that you’d paid more attention in your lessons. This land holds an eon of magic and life. It created the first shadows. If the dragons also take our land, then no blood slit from their throats could atone.”

Except, they have taken our land, right?

They took my court, my people, and my land.

It’s time that I take it back.

Wren reaches to place his scarred hand on my shoulder.

He tried to protect his precious wren wings from the dragon fire in an early battle when he was seventeen, and the same fire burned one of his delicate, short wren wings to a stump. If he didn’t have healing abilities, learned as a druid, which exceed those of anyone I’ve known, then he would be dead now.

Losing a wing is shaming within the fae. I hated how his injury turned Wren into an outcast within the army.

The featherglass were already wary of Wren. He didn’t know how to interact with the other kids because his childhood had already been stolen by the Druids before the dragons stole it from the rest of us.

It’s why I took him into my Frost Clan.

No one can stop bullying or prejudice, but they can do their best as a leader to shield those who need it, despite how magically powerful they are.

I have learned with Aurelius and Lanlin that you can be the most powerful in the room but also the most vulnerable.