Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm
Chapter 9
“You think the trees want to help us?” Eldridge shook his head while he flipped the covers back on their bed. “I really don’t think they want to do anything like that, Freya. They aren’t giving beings, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed.” She pulled her hair from its braid and let it fall loose down her back.
Now that they were sleeping in the same bed consistently, she’d taken to letting her hair get wild. As much as she hated the long length of it getting tangled, she very much enjoyed waking up every morning and having Eldridge there to brush it for her. And he liked brushing it. Every morning they got up and had their own little routine to start the day.
He frowned and punched his pillow, fluffing it for the night. “Why do you think they want us to go to the islands?”
“We’ve already been over this multiple times. I don’t know why.” She crawled onto her side of the bed and motioned for him to get in with her. “But arguing about it repeatedly will not get any more information into our heads.”
“I think if we talk through it, we might at least be able to understand why the trees are so frustrated.” He glared at her.
Oh, he was so handsome. Freya loved it when he glared at her like that. His brows furrowed in the same way they did when he was in the throes of passion. Not that she’d ever tell him that. His ego was already too big.
One last time, she waggled her fingers for him to get into bed. “We can’t do much more until the morning, Eldridge. Even if we both bang our heads against the walls. I don’t think we’re going to figure this one out. The trees said go to the isles. I don’t see another choice. Do you?”
He grumbled but crawled into bed with her. Hand over hand, he dragged himself closer and dramatically fell on top of her.
All the breath whooshed from her lungs. She curled her arms around him, holding his head close to her heart, but she still wheezed, “Was that necessary?”
“Yes. You disagreed with me and I don’t like it,” he muttered, his mouth mashed against her neck. “You don’t have to be right all the time, you know.”
“Yes, I do,” she replied with a laugh. “Otherwise no one would ever be right, and then where would we be?”
Eldridge curved his arms around her, holding her as tightly as she was holding him. “I suppose we’d be in the same place as we currently are, my love. Fumbling around in the dark because damn trees won’t tell us where to go next.”
She laughed, bouncing his head on her chest with the sound of her mirth. “Eldridge! We know where we have to go next. We have to go to the isles, because that’s where the trees told us to go.”
“And we can’t go there without the Summer Lord’s permission.” He pressed a kiss to her throat. “Which means tomorrow we have to beg him to give us that permission.”
“Ah.” And she assumed that wouldn’t be all that easy. “What are the chances of him saying yes without asking questions?”
“Zero to none.” He pressed another kiss to her skin, this time lingering on her jaw. “But I don’t want to talk about him right now.”
A blush spread across her body and suddenly she didn’t want to talk about the Summer Lord either. She wanted to focus on the Goblin King in her bed, who commanded every ounce of her attention. “Oh,” she whispered, cupping the back of his head and drawing him up her body. “What do you want to talk about then?”
“Nothing,” he growled against her lips. “Nothing at all.”
It took them a very long time to fall asleep.
The next morning, Freya felt like she was walking on clouds. She’d spent the night in his arms, in the most warm and wonderful place they’d traveled to so far, and the sun was shining. She stretched her arms over her head, reveling in the sunlight on her body. Finally, this was a place in the faerie realm where she would stay for a while.
“Up!” Eldridge's voice sliced through the air. “We don’t have time for you to be lazy this morning.”
Well, that would ruin the mood in a heartbeat. Why wouldn’t they have time? They knew what they had to do today. She’d spoken with the trees and they were healing her father step by step. Why couldn’t she enjoy herself for a morning?
Grumbling, she sat up in bed with her hair wild around her face. Blowing at one of the frizzy strands, she watched as he paced from one end of the room to the other. Eldridge lifted his hands up and down, summoning things as he went.
A vanity appeared directly across from her with a sparkling cushion that was clearly from his own court. Then dresses popped into view to her right. Too many of them to count, but they were all hung rather daintily on their hangers. Another crackle of magic revealed a stand that was where she should get her makeup done, considering the many pots of paint and rouge.
“What is all this?” she asked, stunned that he could bring so many things into their room with so little thought.
His magic was impressive. And she wondered if there was a limit to his abilities.
“This is everything we will need to get you ready to talk with the Summer Lord.” He paused and stared at her with a critical eye. “Leo only likes pretty things, and if you aren’t up to his standards, then you won’t get the permission we need out of him.”
“Excuse me.” She stood and stretched her arms up over her head with another yawn. “Why am I the one who’s convincing him to help us? Shouldn’t that be your job?”
“Absolutely not.” He snapped his fingers and the remnants of her nightgown disappeared from her body. “I cannot lie, but you can. Thus, the only logical conclusion is that you will lie to him and say we want to go to the island to spend a little time with each other. Alone. Far away from the prying eyes of the elves. He will give us permission, and then we’ll be on our merry way without him being any the wiser.”
Right, because that was so much easier than telling the truth.
Freya lifted a brow. “Then why aren’t you magicking me pretty like you’ve done so many times before?”
“Because the Summer Lord will notice that I’ve done that, and then he will get suspicious. We can’t do anything that would make him question our intentions. He must believe that we want to get away for a while because we are desperately and wonderfully in love.” He gestured with a hand and a sheer robe floated over to her. “Now, put this on.”
She took the robe and stepped into it while still rolling her eyes. “That shouldn’t be too hard to pretend that we’re in love.”
“Shouldn’t it?” He paused in his spell casting to stare at her with eyes that saw right through her. “I would have thought it would be a little difficult for you. Considering you haven’t said the words yet.”
That stung. She knew she should have said them. Freya also was certain that she loved him with every fiber of her being. But that didn’t make saying the words easier.
Freya tightened the ties around her waist and blew out a long breath. “I don’t want to say it too early.”
“We basically live together and sleep in the same bed every night. How much more serious do you want it to be?” Eldridge pinched the bridge of his nose, then shook his hand in the air. “No, wait, don’t answer that. I’m not pressuring you to say the words before you’re ready. That is not who I am.”
Freya wanted to reassure him. She wanted to say that she intended to say them when the time was right, but...
Well. She didn’t know what was holding her back.
But she knew that she shouldn’t take this long. That their relationship was as important, if not more important, than finding her father. She had to take the time to tell the Goblin King how she felt.
Freya opened her mouth and resolved to let the words pour out, even if she wasn’t quite ready to say them. “Eldridge—”
He lunged forward and put his hand over her lips. “I’m not rushing you. I don’t want to remember this moment for the rest of our days as the time when I pulled those words from your lips. Listen to me, Freya. I will wait a century if I must to hear you say the words that I so desperately want to hear. A thousand days, a thousand lifetimes, the wait would be worth it.” He let his hand drop from her lips and gave her a wry smile. “But not a moment longer than that, my love. A man has his limits, after all.”
She smiled and tried to remind herself that this was all right. She shouldn’t feel rushed to tell him how she felt, even though she knew the feelings were mutual.
Freya sat down at the vanity table he’d set up, ready to prepare her makeup, and placed her hands on the wooden top so she wouldn’t meddle with his design. “I do feel that way, you know. I don’t know what’s holding me back from saying it.”
Eldridge approached her from behind, his expression calm in the mirror. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “I know you do, Freya. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be waiting around for so long. I know when I’m not wanted, and you? You want me more than breath.”
“Well, that’s a little arrogant.”
“We share the same vice.” He leaned down to peck a kiss to her cheek, then grabbed his weapons of choice. Brandishing a brush at her, he started in on creating a perfect woman who would tempt the Summer Lord, and yet still be strong enough for the other elves to not mess with her.
Maybe it would take a lot of work, Freya didn’t know. The last time she’d been here, all she had done was put on a fluffy dress and run out with the other elves.
But then again, last time the Summer Lord had known the elves he summoned to his dance were going to tempt the Goblin King. Perhaps this Lord had different tastes. And the longer Eldridge worked on setting her figure and features to right, the more she realized just how difficult it would be to please this Summer Lord.
The makeup changed the very shape of her features. He made her nose thinner, her cheekbones higher, and the hollows a little deeper. Her jaw suddenly appeared sharp enough to cut, and the wings he put on her eyes in dark kohl made her eyelashes look much longer. Eldridge even spent a ridiculous amount of time carving out the shape of her brows until they were so pointed, they almost touched her temples.
Then he set about on her hair, smoothing it down with a warmed pole that he’d set in the fire. The metal shape allowed him to create perfect, soft curls that she’d never be able to create on her own.
How in the world had he made her look like another person? She turned this way and that in the mirror, then made a tsking sound. “I don’t even look like myself.”
“No, you don’t. But that’s the point.” He pointed to the rack of dresses. “Pick one.”
“Oh, I get to choose what dress I wear? What if I wanted to show up like this?” She lifted her arms in the sheer fabric robe. “If we’re selling my looks to the Summer Lord, wouldn’t this intrigue him?”
“You aren’t seducing him,” Eldridge snarled. “I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me, and it’s working. Pick a dress.”
Freya was goading him, but he was really enjoying this process a little too much. Knowing that this was what the fae thought of as pretty stung. Freya wasn’t going to waste time every morning doing this to make herself presentable for him. She couldn’t.
She walked over to the dress rack and picked the first one her eyes landed on. It was the color of seafoam and summer. A pale green with blue edges that fluffed like the tide kissing the land. The deep neckline pointed to her navel, but the rest of the dress was very modest. It clung to her form, certainly. But the sleeves were long, and the skirt touched the ground. Yet again, this was something Freya would never wear on her own. She wasn’t this woman. At least, she wasn’t sure that she was.
But she’d admit it felt amazing when Eldridge stared. His eyes heated with passion and his jaw dropped a bit before he shook himself.
“Wow,” Eldridge whispered. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” She lifted her arms and did a tiny spin for him to get a good look. “Do you think I can convince the Summer Lord to let us go to the isles while I’m dressed like this?”
“I think you could convince him to kneel at your feet and worship the ground you walk on.” Eldridge closed the distance between them and tugged her against him.
One arm banded around her waist like a bar of steel. The other he lifted to scoop his hand into her hair and hold her firmly in place for a kiss that stole her breath away. He branded her with his lips, teeth, and tongue. Like he was trying to remind her that no other faerie would ever satisfy her as he did.
Freya wouldn’t deny that. The Goblin King was the only man she wanted and the only one who haunted every waking moment of her dreams.
She was breathless when they parted. Her words shook slightly even as she resolved herself to focusing on the task. “Well, then.”
He grinned, lips bright red. “Is that all you have to say?”
“I’ll find my words by the time I speak with the Summer Lord.” Freya stepped away and hoped she wasn’t lying.
The longer she was around the Goblin King, the harder it was to focus on anything other than him.
