Bite of Winter (Fae's Captive #3) - Lily Archer Page 0,16

like a river during a thaw. The room grows even more frigid, and Taylor squeezes my hand.

“Your crops failed?” Taylor addresses Para. “The ones you mentioned that are near the river?”

“No.” Para glances to the council, as if unsure she should continue. Keret waves her onward.

“We created a system of underground farms by bringing dirt from the river bed during dry spells when the water receded. Light comes in through funnels carved in the plains above, and we have plentiful water in the caverns—water that used to run through the plains before the great war.”

“Can I see them? The farms, I mean?”

I turn to Taylor. Her eyes are bright, intelligence sparkling in their blue depths. I want to pull her close to keep her tucked under my arm, but she is strong enough to stand on her own. And as queen, she must.

“You want to see the crops?” Keret looks left and right at the other council members.

Taylor’s cheeks pinken. “Yes. I mean, I’m not super into agriculture, but I’ve taken a few classes in organic chemistry, a botany elective, and worked in the university greenhouse over the summers. Maybe I can help.”

Vanara grips the arms of her chair. “The way you can help is to allow us to turn you over to the king beyond the mountain.”

“If you want to keep your life, you will never speak in my presence again.” I maintain my hold on the heart of winter while the feral seeks to unleash its fury.

Vanara, eyes wide, turns to Keret, but she doesn’t open her mouth. It’s the only smart choice she’s made. With a disgusted huff, she rises and storms from the room.

Keret blinks slowly, his reptilian shoulders rising in a shrug.

Delantis chuckles. “I knew I wasn’t the only one who’s grown tired of her voice. Thank you, King Gladion.” She rises, her posture bent and her eyes watery. “I’ll show Taylor to the crops, if that’s okay with you. We have some things to discuss.” Without waiting for approval from the council, she hobbles to Taylor, who offers her arm.

“Thank you, child.” The elderly fae takes Taylor’s elbow, and they turn to leave.

I can’t let her out of my sight. Can I?

“You have things to discuss here, my lord.” Delantis pauses. “So I will make this easy for you. I give my oath to the Ancestors that I will not harm your mate or allow anyone else to harm her while she’s with me.” Her fingers glow bright white, the magic so strong within her that it has to escape. When she gives her word, magic ripples through the air between us, sealing the deal.

“Taylor?” I loathe letting go of her hand.

She steps up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be fine. Maybe Delantis can give me some information on the stone, or what I am, or what’s going on, or the two million other questions I have.”

I kiss her forehead, my need to keep her near almost overcoming even Delantis’s oath. But I have to let her go. She must be seen as capable of handling herself … No matter how much I want to hide her away and keep her to myself.

“She’s safe.” Delantis pulls her gently. “I know well what it means to have a mate and feel the bond. But you must trust in her. And I can assure you, if anyone threatens her …” She lets the magic seep from her fingertips until a gryphon forms next to them, its body of white smoke, but its talons of silver. Delantis’s feral fae in corporeal form. How old is she? She pats the gryphon on its eagle head. “We will handle it.” The gryphon blinks, and its lion’s claws click on the stone floor.

“A gryphon?” Taylor’s fingers twitch to pet it, but she keeps her hand at her side.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Delantis smiles.

“As soon as you’re done, meet me back in our rooms.” I let go of Taylor’s hand, even though it feels wrong.

“I will.” She gives me a confident look and leaves the room with Delantis on her arm. The gryphon follows, its tail whipping out the door.

I turn back to the Vundi council, the mix of high and lesser fae eyeing Gareth and me with an apprehension that borders on fear. While I admit I will destroy anyone who threatens my people, I’m not a despot. I see the plight of the Vundi. Though the heart of winter beats in my chest, I am not cold,