Page 11 of The Endless Dance

The male claws at the shadows around his neck, only to go straight through them and scratch at his own straining flesh. His legs flail, and his eyes practically bug out of his head in his panic and desperation. He tries to say something, but all that comes out is a choked garble and a string of saliva. The Lady huffs out a laugh; her shadows are moving again. Slim tendrils snake towards his nostrils and ear canals before diving in ferociously. The male screams and flails more desperately before suddenly freezing and falling limp. In the next second, his eyes pop out of their sockets, and his head caves in. There is no other way to describe it. One second, he has a solid skull, and the next, his brain is exploding through the cracks of his imploding head.

I slap a hand over my mouth as the faerie wine threatens to make a reappearance.

The Lady of Darkness effortlessly drops the male’s corpse to the ground before sending her shadows to the cowering girl at her feet. They caress the girl gently.

“Take her to a healer at once,” the Lady says. A couple of fae jump into action, gently lifting the girl and carting her off. “Have them deliver her to Dusk when she is well enough to travel.”

Holy shit. I raise an impressed brow as the female turns and struts towards High Lord Vellin, the crowd parting for her like the Red Sea. I can’t help but feel pride for this once-human female. She was quite obviously not one of us anymore, and yet her humanity had somewhat stuck with her. Her torture of the male wasn’t moral in the slightest, but she was looking out for the humans. And I felt like that, in the face of all of faerie, was powerful.

She stops a few feet from Lord Vellin and drops into a low bow.

“Ah, welcome, my Dark Lady,” he croons. I cringe; even his voice is sinister as fuck. “Let me look at you, my pretty.”

The Lady complies, standing tall and flipping back her hood.

I jump to my feet, heart galloping in my chest and a solid stone in my throat. The movement captures the attention of many. But I ignore the curious look High Lord Draekoh sends me. I even ignore the smirking, scarred and devastatingly beautiful face of Lord Vellin.

But I can’t ignore the look of confusion and realisation on the face of the Lady of Darkness.

She is stunning. More so than she ever was as a human, and that was saying something. Her features are sharper and crueller, her eyes darker, and her form slimmer and taller. But her hair was the same. Untamable. Wild.

My lips wobble, and I can’t stop the broken whisper from parting my lips.

“Mom?”

Chapter Four

My hero idealism of the Lady of Darkness quickly expires and sours like old milk. The emotional reunion I had always envisioned doesn’t happen. In fact, after that first look and recognition, the Lady of Darkness, my mother, blinks and turns away. That was hours ago. She hadn’t once looked back. I would know. My eyes haven’t left her.

My insides are tumultuous with emotion. I was confused, broken, desperate, lonely, aching, sad and fucking furious. Seething. Raging. My mother. The woman who birthed me. The woman I missed and yearned for, for over fifteen years, took one look at me and practically shrugged me off like I were a beetle on her shoulder.

My anxious energy was infectious, apparently. The women and female at my back were stiff and attentive, jumping into action whenever my cup turned dry. Even the High Lord was tense, though he was trying to play it off. He also refused to look at me. But he wasn’t important right now.

High Lord Vellin had conjured a lounge identical to that of his Chosen and placed it on the opposite side of his throne. His shadows differed from my mother’s. It had taken a few hours for that titbit of information to register, but now that it had, I couldn’t not see it. While Lord Vellin’s were pitch black and empty as a void, hers were more of a navy blue, with stars twinkling in the depths. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help thinking about the symbolism of stars: hopes and dreams and life and wishes.

It was that thought that finally had me tearing my eyes away from her. Though my mother had been all of those things, the Lady of Darkness was undoubtedly not. I was thick into the faerie wine at this point, though I noticed Rita sometimes swapped out the wine for water. My head was swimming, and so was my bladder.

I push to my feet, instantly staggering as my head spun from the liquor. Rita and Laska are by my side in an instant, holding me steady. When the world steadies around me, I notice Lord Draekoh is half out of his seat, practically vibrating as he stares intensely at me.

I snort. “Simmer down, High Lord,” I drawl with a lazy smirk. “I only need to pee. Or do you expect me to do it where I sit, like some of the vile creatures out there have been commanding of their women?” My humour vanishes as I hiss the last part. It was true. I’d spotted many women soiling themselves, much to the humour of the fae. Some had even slapped the women, even after laughing at them, telling them off for being animals with no self-control or preservation. And all I could do was look away and down my next cocktail.

Lord Draekoh sneers, and for a moment I think he is going to shoo me off without a second glance, but instead he stands.

“Come.”

I blink, then pursue the lithe male as he walks behind our tent, my handmaids trailing behind me. Two of the High Lords’ guards make to tag along too, but Lord Draekoh waves them off. I roll my eyes. The high and mighty Lord of Light oh so bravely traverses to the Portaloo without his entourage; cue a shocked gasp!

When we reach the tall blue box set aside for the High Lord, he steps aside and nods for me to go ahead.

I hold my tongue as I step into the portable bathroom, because words are just begging to bite. I don’t bother locking the door once it bounces closed behind me. I don’t think Lord Draekoh has any interest in watching me pee, but I also don’t think his broody self would allow anyone else to sneak a peek either.

Once I’ve finished, I flush and wash my hands. There is no mirror, so I do not know how hammered I look, though if it’s anything like I feel, I know my makeup is running, and my hair is frizzing all over the place. Oh well.

I push the door open and step out, wobbling as my feet try to balance on the single step down. My ladies are waiting with their heads lowered and hands clasped in front of them. To my other side is my stoic male. I frown. My male? Where the fuck had that thought come from?

“Done?” he asks with a single raised eyebrow on his bored, beautiful face.

“I wouldn’t be out here if I wasn’t,” I snort.