Destiny United (25 page)

“You look lovely,” Kieran said as he offered his arm.

All she noticed was how perfectly her dress matched his
eyes. She may have looked lovely on her own, but on his arm, she was stunning.

I guess we’re a perfect fit.
She gave him a small smile. The kingdom seemed to think so.

“Gorgeous,” one woman told Kieran as they glided through
the decadent ballroom.

“A bonny lass.”

“A right beauty for your arm.”

Aila mingled with noble company, shook hands, smiled when
she was supposed to. She even ate with the correct forks. But her heart grew
heavy. Was this what her new life was to be? A trophy wife to be admired on the
prince’s arm? Here she was, finally safe, heavily guarded by the royal court. Most
likely she would never have to face a werewolf or fae death threat again. A
week ago she would have sighed in relief, perfectly happy never leaving the
castle walls. But why now did she feel utterly dissatisfied?

“Do you miss him?” Kieran asked as they walked to the
balcony for some fresh air.

She gave him a nervous laugh, knowing full well who he
referred to. “Like a fish misses water.” When he gave her a funny look she
winced then cursed under her breath. She’d meant to say “like a fish misses air”.

Was it true? Had she left a piece of herself with the
vampire? She couldn’t deny something was missing. There was a void that no amount
of riches or fine food or history lessons could fill.

She’d argued and debated with herself as she tossed and
turned in bed the next night. At least Kieran had graciously provided her with
her own bedroom, instead of insisting she sleep in his bed. No, only pushy,
shameless vampires did that sort of thing.

Over and over she told herself the fae were her people.
They loved her, accepted her,
wanted
her. This
was her destiny. Then why did it feel so wrong?

And now, on the evening of the fourth day, Aila and
Kieran wandered leisurely through the gardens bordering what the fae called the
“Outerlands” – and what Aila called “the rest of the world.” The gardens were
enormous, a vast expanse of rocky paths winding through plants of every color,
some so exotic they looked like they belonged on another planet.

Kieran grasped her hand and held it as they walked. It
surprised her that she liked holding his hand. She felt at ease. Not
passionate. Not in love. Not held in place only by his touch because her head
was soaring a hundred feet off the ground. No, the only time gravity had ceased
to matter was when she’d kissed the vampire she’d left behind. Her body may
have left him but, she acknowledged woefully, her heart had not.

“I want to show you my favorite spot in the kingdom,”
Kieran said, stepping through a flowery trellis. “This is where I come to
meditate.”

He held out his hand gesturing her in front. The path
circled a small pond where water lilies floated on the surface. A stone statue,
blood red in color, smooth and shiny, stood behind the water feature. It was a
woman swathed in cloth with a fox creeping at her side.

“I seem to do my best thinking here,” Kieran explained,
taking a deep breath of the night air. “My theory is that there’s some magical
ability having to do with the fox.”

“The fox?”

He nodded. “The fox is a symbol of wisdom.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “Isn’t the fox known for
trickery?”

He laughed. “I guess it depends on the origins of the folklore.
Some of the first generation fae were foxes.”

“Really?”

“Remember meeting Daly?”

“He’s the military strategist, right?”

“Yes. He’s also a fox.”

It hadn’t occurred to Aila that the first fae created
from animal spirits might still walk the earth. But now she was insanely
curious.

“So…” She eyed Kieran speculatively.

“I already know what you’re going to ask,” he said. “No,
I’m not first generation. I’m fourth generation.”

“So, like, instead of asking a human what their heritage
is, I would ask you what your mammalitage is?”

Kieran burst out laughing, throwing his head back, his
small but pointy fangs flashing white against the dark night. “That’s good,
Aila. You’re very funny.”

She perched a hand on her hip. “Well?”

“My great-grandfather was a lion. My great-grandmother on
the other side was a wolf.”

“So you’re half lion, half wolf?”

“Yes.”

“That explains a lot.”

He cocked his head to the side. “It does?”

She shrugged. “You’re a natural leader. You’re more powerful
than you let anyone know but you’re also good with people. You could win them
over with your personality just as easily as with brute strength. All in all, you
are a very dangerous package.” She gave him a sly smile. “A lion and a wolf. It
fits.”

With a sideways grin he chuckled. He reached out and,
before she could step away, he fingered a strand of her hair, a dreamy look in
his eye. “You are something else, Aila Quinn.” She’d seen that look before. He
wanted to kiss her.

She took a step back then cleared her throat. “I wonder
what my mammalitage is.”

“I don’t know.” He followed her retreat. “But I bet
you’ve got some feline somewhere in you.”

“Lazy, moody, and doesn’t play well with others?”

“I was thinking curious, independent, and always lands on
her feet.”

She narrowed her eyes and her lips curled up on one side.
He
is
dangerous
.
She needed a distraction before he charmed her into doing something she would
regret. “So what kind of stone is this?” she asked, gesturing to the fountain.

“Red Jasper.”

“It’s beautiful.” She stooped down next to the pond and
dipped her hand into the cool water.

“It’s said to give protection from fears of the night.”

She snapped her head to look at him so quickly she heard
it pop. “Really?” She stood up and wiped her wet hand on her pale blue halter
top dress.

He looked like he bit back a laugh. Instead, he shrugged.
“That’s what they say.”

A subtle movement behind him caught her eye. Up against
the vine covered fence, a small woman’s shape began to emerge. With pale hair
and stormy gray eyes, she stared at Aila with an intensity that stopped her
breath. Then a slow smile crept onto her face as she put a finger to her mouth
in a silent gesture. Parts of her body, dressed all in black, remained hidden
in the shadows of the vines, while her face was as clear as the moon in the
cloudless sky above. She reminded Aila of the Cheshire cat from
Alice in Wonderland.
Intelligent, mischievous, and
just a little bit creepy.

Kieran must have noticed her unusual reaction because he
narrowed his eyes then turned around, scanning the area. But by the time his
gaze reached the fence, the girl had slunk back into the shadows of the vines
and disappeared.

He swung back around and eyed Aila suspiciously but
didn’t say a word. She had a feeling he knew exactly who was behind him. She
smiled inside.
Kieran has an admirer?

Finally, he spoke. “I know this experience must be
overwhelming for you. I’ve showed you everything I know. You’ve seen the
kingdom, met important people, learned about our culture. What do you think?
Could you be happy here?” He stepped closer – close enough that she could feel
his breath linger on her forehead. “Could you be happy with me?”

She stared down at her feet adorned by a pair of strappy
sandals selected to match her dress. She was in love with the dress. The way it
flowed around her body would have been lovely to spin around in. If she hadn’t
been under a microscope by the Unseelie, she would have tried it. The warm
night air tickled the bare skin on her shoulders.

“I…I don’t know,” she answered and saying it felt like
rocks in her mouth. She was defying not only the kingdom’s expectation and
Kieran’s desire, but her own birthright as well. And to her surprise, it stung.
She didn’t want to disappoint the fae. She didn’t want to hurt Kieran.
Technically there wasn’t anything
wrong
with living
in
Méadú ar Neart,
but deep down inside, she
knew this life wasn’t hers.

“This place is beautiful. This life is…perfect.” She
avoided those emerald eyes, knowing she’d be lost once she looked into them.
“You’re a wonderful man, Kieran.”

“But?”

She sighed. “I don’t think it’s for me.” Her cheeks
flushed with shame.

With tender patience he grasped her hands then kissed
each one. “What do your instincts tell you? Instinct knows where you belong.
Deep down inside,
you
know where you belong.”

Marcelo
.
The
thought slammed into her head like an anvil.
Now what
the hell is he doing there?
Before she could explore the thought further,
Kieran’s lips were on hers. Soft and patient, but with gentle determination.
She kissed him back, just to see what would happen. She opened her mouth for
his probing tongue. His kiss was sweet, his lips smooth and soft. It was
perfectly…nice. But her body didn’t want nice. It wanted an aggressive claiming
of her mouth. A kiss she felt all the way down to her toes.

“Kieran,” she said, pushing him away. “It’s not here.”

He looked confused. “What?”

“You told me to trust my instincts. It’s not here that I
belong.”

It’s with the vampire.
The
untrustworthy, betraying, prone to violence, vampire. He wouldn’t leave her
heart. He wouldn’t stop haunting her mind. Somehow, he’d tied them together
irreversibly.

With a deep sigh, she finally admitted the truth. She
wasn’t made for this perfect life. She wasn’t made to live in luxury, ruling
the fae at Kieran’s side. When had her life ever been perfect anyway? She needed
her vampire. As imperfect as he was, she missed him. Their life would never be
like Kieran’s, surrounded by beauty and culture and refinement. But, she
admitted in defeat, she would follow Marcelo anywhere. She had fallen for him
like a smitten school girl.

If his face was any indication, Kieran hadn’t expected
her answer. He looked appalled. “But…but this is where you belong! You are fae.
You are one of us, Aila. I don’t know how else to convince you. You’ve seen it.
We’ve opened our arms to you. Embraced you.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I can’t be what you want.”

His shoulders sagged as he stared off into the garden. With
a crease set in his brow his lips formed a grim line. He nodded his head in a
slow surrender.

“Kieran,” she pleaded. She didn’t want to hurt him. “You
know it too, don’t you? I’m not really who you want.”

He didn’t answer, just gave her a small consolatory
smile.

“Trust your instincts,” she said with a mischievous grin.
She placed his hand on his chest as he’d done to her just a few days ago. “Feel
it. Right here. Admit it.”

He arched a brow and smiled, all hints of bleakness gone.
“Admit to a woman that I don’t want her? Please, I’m not suicidal.”

She chuckled though her heart trembled with fear. She had
to go back to Marcelo and ask for forgiveness. Maybe Kieran would let her have
the jasper statue for protection. Vampires counted as fears of the night,
right? And if reason failed to tame his temper, she could always whack him over
the head with it.

As soon as Aila stepped through
the door to the Underworld she was hit by a choking wave of heat. Thick, dirty
air drowned her lungs in soot. Once she adjusted to the temperature change and
could breathe again, she scanned her environment, first sweeping for any
threats. She sensed nothing but she didn’t trust herself on that account so she
kept her bow at her side.

The Underworld didn’t look as foreign as she had expected.
Bare trees were bent in odd shapes but the ground was solid dirt with grass on
top, though dead in most places. There was no fire and brimstone. No demonic creatures
gnashing their teeth. Well, not yet.

The terrain was flat and sparsely wooded, reminding her
of a wicked fairytale scene, like she could come across the witch’s candy house
from Hansel and Gretel any minute.

Then she spotted the red sky. “Oh, boy.”

She turned in a full circle, looking for signs of Sage’s
castle. “I don’t suppose there’s a yellow brick road.”

It had only been a day since she’d rejected Kieran. He’d
been concerned about her entering the Underworld alone but respected her
decision. He’d only insisted on a change of clothes and a healthy meal before
she left, which gave her ample time to contemplate what she’d say to Marcelo. A
few hours later and she still had no idea.

Kieran had opened a portal with the door-making device
and said a reluctant goodbye. There had been an unspoken understanding that
they would see each other again soon. But for now, they had to part ways.

The old Aila would have been scared out of her wits
trekking alone through unknown territory, facing the uncertainty of another
dimension. But this new Aila, the fae warrior with a strong backbone and a mean
archer’s arm, could handle it. Oh sure, she was scared, but Marcelo had been
right, she needed to stand on her own two feet for once.

It had only been six days since she’d frozen in fear when
the werewolves had attacked her and Marcelo. What a long way she’d come since
then. Now…now she would have faced them with courage instead of cowering behind
a man. Her head would be held high, bow in hand, strength down to her feet
rooted on the ground. Yes, she was fae. She would never run and hide again.

Just then a giant snarling ball of muscle, fur, and teeth
lunged at her from the trees.
Oh, the irony.

Before the giant wolf landed on top of her, it yelped as
it went sailing to the right, collided with a large tree and fell to the
ground. Its body sagged for a moment, then, recovering its strength, it stood
up to face its assailant. Aila followed its gaze.