Author's Note: I got stuck on this chapter, but I like how it came out. It was quite fun to write once I figured it out. :)
"No, not like that," she giggled that evening and laid on her stomach on the floor.
Lying on his side with a hand propped under his head gave the perfect view to watch her.
She looked so beautiful cast in the warm firelight of the pot belly stove. This sweet dewdrop possessed captivating intelligence about unsuspected topics, such as medicine, and didn't have to be told the same thing twice to remember it. She had a relaxed personality that didn't mind going with the flow—something that would be a necessity if she was to ever be his mate.
Those warm brown eyes turned to him. "You aren't paying attention." Instead of being upset, however, her pink lips curled up in a smile.
Reaching up, he stroked a thick lock of her black hair behind her ear. "I'm paying plenty of attention, dewdrop," he replied, his voice coming out a bit rougher and deeper than usual. She seemed to have that effect on him.
A deep blush colored her cheeks a very lovely pink. "To what I'm saying."
"I'll never be able to make a water droplet, and I have my very own water fairy. I'd rather watch you make them."
Her eyes rolled. "Making an air bubble in a water droplet is hard, and I have two days left to learn it."
Suppressing a smile, he rolled onto his stomach and propped up on his elbows so his shoulder touched hers. "Alright, show me again."
She pulled the water out of the wet floorboard and formed a droplet in her palm. With her other hand, she stroked and rolled it to remove the bits of dirt and impurities. A dewdrop formed that captured the firelight and created dozens of rainbows in the cabin. When she eased a finger inside and set her lips to the dewdrop to blow, she gave a slow stroke inside the water and a tiny air bubble took shape.
He caught her hand. "Ease your finger out and keep giving a gentle blow until it seals. Then take your finger out."
It seemed to hold until the last moment when it burst in her face and soaked them both.
A wave of her hand and the water congregated back into a droplet on the floor.
The poor thing dropped her head onto the floor with a groan.
"You're being too rough. When you blow to take your finger out, it's like the soft whisper of the wind. It's a fragile dewdrop, just like you, not something to be conquered."
She raised her head and flung out a hand toward it. "I am being soft! I've been trying for two weeks. I can't do it." Her shoulders sagged in defeat.
With light pressure on her shoulder, he turned her onto her side and then slipped an arm around her waist. "The softest wisp of wind," he repeated and lowered his mouth to hers. And he gave a small, weak blow over her lips that she'd barely feel.
Her heart beat faster against his chest, and her hands glided up his arms as his lips touched hers. When her soft tongue caressed, it made his wings rise.
"Soft. Got it." She suddenly broke the kiss and spun around under him onto her belly to pick up the droplet.
He blinked down at the back of her head. "Wait, what?"
That little body bounced against him. "You said to not let you get in a frenzy."
"Ughhhhhh," he growled and pushed her hair aside to kiss where her dress back exposed creamy skin at her shoulders.
"I need to get this donnnnnne!" she squealed and arched away from him, bursting into laughter. "That tickles!"
"Does it, my dewdrop? Perhaps here won't." He trailed kisses over her shoulder blade.
She squirmed and laughed.
"Alright, be very still, my sweet." The smile faded as a tenderness in his chest grew stronger.
A giggle answered. "No, you're going to tickle me again."
"I promise I won't." Love burned brighter in his heart for this little pixie.
She tensed her back, as if waiting for more tickles, her giggles slowly fading.
He pressed a soft kiss against the base of her wing. It should've been impossible for a dark beast like himself—to resist the urge to tear and destroy a Bright Fairy's wing right where it would spill such sweet sugar that would excite and feed his glow. But the profound love left no room for anything but tenderness.
She laid still, perhaps paralyzed by instinct to not move with an Alamur touching a deeply vulnerable spot.
"I love you," he breathed and gave one more slow, gentle kiss.
She rolled over in his arms, with tears in her eyes as she cupped his face. "I love you. I trust you."
Trust. No one had ever known the monster he was and trusted him.
He arrived when the last fairy had left work, landing before her with a thud.
Her eyebrows rose. "You circle overhead and wait for the last fairy to leave, don't you?"
Sleet shrugged. "The less I interact with fairies, the better. Your friends fear me anyways."
She sauntered forward and set a hand on his chest and tipped her head back. "A fierce soldier is something to be afraid of."
One eyebrow cocked. "Apparently not fierce enough for you," he grunted.
A slow smile spread across her lips. "I don't fear dragons disguised as soldiers."
His mouth crushed down in a brief but fiery kiss. "For your insubordination." Then he picked up her cloak and wrapped it around her, and reached out to scoop her up to go to Winter for dinner.
Four puncture marks decorated the inside of his bicep. She caught his arm mid-reach. "What happened?"
He eased free and picked her up without making eye contact. "I asked Healer Spruce to do the daily sugar draws where they couldn't be seen. Gossip was starting with having five puncture marks in the crook of my arm for everyone to see," he said tightly.
"It's still daily? He wanted to go a week to be sure you're alright from the transfusion, but he said he'd talk to the Queen about every other day after that." She huddled into the cape and turned her face against his chest when the icy blast of Winter hit at the border.
"The deal with the Queen was daily for two weeks and then monthly," he snapped.
Clearly it was a sore topic, and no one could blame him. It had to be humiliating. "You're feeling alright? Spruce worried that you'd need a transfusion by two weeks from so much sugar being taken."
He landed at the doorstep and set her down inside with an irritated look from beneath his brow. "He gave a transfusion this morning to prevent exhaustion. I'm done talking about it." Then he walked over to the stove to get a fire going.
Standing there for a moment as his words sank in, she finally walked over. "I told Spruce that I could give you sugar if you needed it."
All he did was glare up from where he knelt and throw two logs into the stove unnecessarily hard.
"What are you mad at me for?"
He clicked two stones together for a spark, slammed the pot belly stove door shut as the flames took, and stood. "Would you stop?! I survived dozens of wars for centuries without you there making sure everyone was nice to me!" He stabbed a finger at his chest. "I murdered! I did horrible things because that's what I was born to do! So what if everyone is afraid of me?! So what if I have to get poked with a needle daily—it's a needle! I've had hooks and swords and knives and Neverland, even saws in me! I don't need you trying to come to the rescue! It's a fact that the Queen doesn't like me, and I know to a Bright Fairy that would be a horrible thing, but I'm not one of you! I don't have this incessant need to make everything all rainbows and butterflies!"
She swallowed hard and dropped her eyes, not even knowing what to say.
A deep sigh came from him. "Silvermist, I'm sorry. I can't take this hovering. I appreciate that you worry and want to take care of me when I'm unwell, but I don't want you to." He reached into her cloak and took her hand.
But she pulled it back inside and kept her eyes anchored to his chest to hold back the tears. "I think maybe we need a night apart."
"No, Silvermist—"
"You aren't used to anyone being around all the time. I've been here for just over a week. A break will be good." Her voice quivered, so she spun around and hurried toward the door.
"It's not even safe if the creature—"
She whirled around, with tears blurring him, and practically shouted, "The creature isn't coming back! It's been months, and this is only an excuse to pretend to be mates because the Queen won't allow it! It's clearly smothering you, and we need time apart before we get in a real argument."
He shot over and held the door shut when she reached for it. "There's a snowstorm brewing. If you insist on going home, I'll take you back."
Biting her lip, she shook her head.
His thumb brushed the runaway tear, so much gentler than the first few times he'd done it. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. I didn't mean to make you cry," he said quietly.
More tears fell. "Maybe it's good that we can't actually mate. Then we don't have to make sure we're under the same roof every few days—"
"Silvermist." He leaned down and hooked a finger under her chin to meet her eyes. "I don't mean that at all. I'm still tired, and it's making me irritable because Alamur don't get ill—we're healthy, just injured for a couple weeks, or dying. You're right that I'm not used to having anyone around. I just need some time to get used to it. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm going to make mistakes. This having a mate thing comes naturally to you, but I'm bumbling through it because Alamur aren't meant to have mates. You need to domesticate me."
That earned a tiny laugh.
He cracked a smile. "I'm serious. There will probably be times when I snap and growl, but I'll eventually tame. But never mistake it for me being resentful. It's just frustration. Where I'm from, you either learn quickly or are killed—there isn't time to adjust and figure it out."
She sniffled. "This isn't the Alamur army. I'm not supposed to make you stressed—"
He took her hands. "It's not you making me stressed. I'm trying to learn this way of life. Right now, though, I need you to tone down the caretaking. If I'm having trouble, I'll tell you. The transfusion this morning was a precaution because I'm still exhausted and he's still drawing two vials of sugar daily, so I'm not regenerating sugar as fast as I should be yet. It's just going to take a little bit for things to even out. Spruce said that you offered to donate, which I'm grateful for, but I didn't want you feeling weak and woozy the rest of the day."
"Promise that you won't try to tough it out if you don't feel well or if the darkness comes back? I've seen Lord Milori try to be all tough when his PTSD is getting bad and end up in fights with the Queen."
His eye softened. "Yes, I promise to tell you. But you also have to tell me if you're upset or don't feel well."
She nodded.
"And I will work on not panicking about the creature if I'm not with you every moment outside of work. Lord Milori informed me today that he doesn't want me sleeping under the same roof with you now that my strength is coming back, and that has me so on edge to not be able to watch over you."
A shy smile tugged. "If I remember correctly, it was me who fought off the creature and you were hurt."
"Oh, I see." He straightened and set his hands on his hips. "I'm not going to live it down that a female civilian half my size, without any combat experience, fought off one of the evilest beings in existence?"
The grin broke free and she nodded. "But I promise to not flaunt it in front of the soldiers."
One corner of his mouth curled up. "Just your friends."
"And maybe the Queen and Lord Milori." She reached her arms up, and he accommodated by leaning down for a hug. "I won't tell anyone."
A chuckle erupted. "Dewdrop, I don't know that anyone would believe you're so fierce anyways."
She tugged, and he straightened as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Then she leaned back to look him in the eyes, easing his eye patch off. "I don't know if the creature can't hurt me because I'm a Bright Fairy, or if it's because I love you so much. If it comes back, promise that you'll think of me and touch here." She set a hand over his heart. "I'll feel it and find you."
He shook his head. "I'm not calling you to your death."
"If it comes for me, I'll think of you and touch my heart," she said, as if he hadn't spoken. "But whatever we do, we can't be scared."
"Why is that?"
"Haven't you heard, my dragon? Love conquers all." She pressed a kiss to his lips.
This branch served as the perfect spot to have a mostly full view of Silvermist's home.
It felt good to sleep in a tree again under the stars. Being in a bed with her for a few nights had been nice, but it was starting to cause claustrophobia to be under a roof. Just another domestication aspect to get used to, though. She likely wouldn't mind if he needed to sleep in a tree above the house a couple times a week.
A house. That posed another problem. Bright Fairies simply moved into one of the mate's houses, but it wouldn't be safe for her to live in Winter and it was hard to tolerate the warmth in Summer. Lord Milori had built the Queen a cabin on the border. Perhaps a house in Autumn. Then Silvermist wouldn't have to worry about her wings getting too cold. This was stupid—the Queen would never allow a mating.
Shifting a bit to recline more against the tree trunk helped give a better view. The light in her house turned off. It must be near ten o'clock. That was another perfect thing about her—she was an early riser, too. So many centuries in the army made it impossible to sleep in past six in the morning.
She probably wore that little blue nightgown again that could barely be called clothing. He shifted. Neverland, such impure thoughts wouldn't occur in a Bright Fairy.
"Lieutenant!" Lord Milori called from below.
Heaving a sigh, he pitched over the edge and dove down.
After sleeping next to his hard body for so many nights, it was impossible to fall asleep in this cold bed. Despite living in Winter, his body temperature wasn't cold like a winter fairy. Instead, he was always just warm enough to keep away the chill, but not so warm to cause overheating in bed.
As his health improved, he started to sleep with his sleeveless tunic on instead of being shirtless, but she'd woken up right before sunrise one morning to see him shirtless and slip the tunic back on before lying back down. She'd been too sleepy to ask him if he felt more comfortable sleeping without a shirt. Not having those muscles covered up would be a nice bonus. Kissing had never seemed like an activity that should be enjoyed, but it was more than enjoyable with him.
Rolling over, she sighed and stared at the wall. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping, too.
Sleet didn't arrive the next morning as an escort to work. His warmth around her heart felt fine, so he couldn't be hurt. On the way to work, she wandered to the border. Sled, Rosetta's mate, flew past. "Wait, Sled!"
He flew over. "Hi, Silvermist. Sorry, I'm in a hurry. There was an avalanche in Winter that trapped some houses last night."
"Is everyone alright?"
"Yes. Lord Milori and the Winter Army were able to rescue everyone, but we're busy rebuilding homes."
"Good. Thank you!"
He flew back toward Winter.
Sleet must be caught trying to help. At least he was alright. She went to work.
"What in Neverland kind of stunt was that?!" Lord Milori roared.
Play it calm. Leaning back against a tree, he folded his arms over his chest. "There were a dozen fairies without air that you were busy trying to rescue. You didn't need me, and you were needed in two places at once. So I took the mission that I knew I could do on my own."
Lord Milori stormed up to him. "I didn't give orders for you to go to Frost Lake for a rescue," he hissed.
"The blizzard blew a new fairy into the lake. We both know that without pixie dust within the first minutes of arriving, she would've faded," he drawled. No matter what he did, it was never the right solution in Lord Milori's eyes.
"You're not a captain, you don't get to call shots!"
He ground his teeth in an effort to bite his tongue. "She was dying," he ground out through his teeth.
"And I was going to have a healer and someone else go take care of her."
An eyebrow cocked. "By the time a Bright Fairy would've reached her, she would've drowned." Stay aloof and arrogant, just keep the anger in check.
"I'm sick to death of your insubordination." Lord Milori grabbed his neck collar and started to haul him away.
In the blink of an eye, he broke Milori's grip to hold him by the neck collar against the tree, rising to his full height. "Enough! I'm so damn sick of being treated like a criminal! I haven't betrayed you or the Queen for over three hundred years, and the one time I didn't follow orders was to try to come after the Lost Nine! I fucked up, but all other options were gone! I didn't choose to have a mate, and I regret it a thousand times more than the Queen! I'm not going to kill Silvermist, so back off!"
Something flickered in his heart.
A glance over the shoulder revealed Silvermist standing not too far away at the border. Even from this distance, tears could be seen shimmering in her eyes.
A curse escaped. How to explain that it wasn't how it sounded?
Lord Milori's hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist and whirled him to slam against the backside of the tree out of sight. A hand clamped around the throat and Lord Milori held up a finger. "Shut up and listen to me for one minute." He glanced around the tree, probably to see if anyone but Silvermist saw. "What do you mean you came after us? Where did you go?"
No one would believe an Alamur would do anything without self-gains. It wouldn't make a difference anyways. "Forget it. I have to go talk to her." He shoved away Lord Milori's hand and stepped around the tree.
She was gone.
"Stop. That's an order."
Burying his face in his hands in frustration, he stopped but didn't turn.
Snow crunched as Lord Milori approached. "Are you resentful of her?"
Dropping his hands, he heaved a sigh. "Not that it's your business, but no."
"It certainly is my business if it involves Her Majesty's fairy and my soldier." He stopped on the right, shoulder to shoulder, and surveyed the border. "Do you love her?"
He bristled.
Lord Milori turned and met his eye. "Rumors say that love is impossible for you. You're larger than any Bright Fairy, and I suspect you're stronger than you let on. You're bred to kill Bright Fairies. The Queen would be irresponsible if she didn't question the match. I ask to know one thing—do you love her?"
Holding the gaze, he replied, "I would give myself over to the creature if it meant she would be safe. But Alamur never do anything selfless—we even die so we get something in return, like her safety," he growled in sarcasm and took off.
Swallowing down the tears, she arrived at the pond with the other water fairies to start work. He said he regretted having a mate, but he didn't act like it.
"Hi, Silvermist!" Fawn waved on the way past.
With a wave and a forced smile, she dipped her hands into the small pond to make dewdrops.
A thud. Several of the water fairies from the other side of the pond stared behind her and then whispered to each other. Sleet's reflection appeared over her shoulder.
She withdrew her hands and sat back on her legs.
"There's a difference between regretting what I said and regretting you," he explained, his voice deep and quiet with regret.
The other water fairies spoke in hushed tones, as if afraid and enthralled with him.
His reflection looked up and gave them a harsh glare. They scurried away, leaving them alone.
Then he knelt and held out a buttercup flower, switching to Korean. "I regret having a mate because I'm terrified of hurting you. Never for an instant have I regretted you."
She eased the flower from his hand, still not turning to face him.
"I know a rose symbolizes love, but it's not a flower that reminds me of you. Something more cheerful and vibrant is what makes me think of you, and you symbolize love."
If those words couldn't melt a heart. "Buttercups are my favorite flower," she whispered and turned her head to meet his eye. "Am I making your life harder? There's no rule that we ever have to mate or even see each other."
His throat convulsed in a hard swallow as he laid a hand over her heart like he could feel her sadness dimming the glow. "Do you know from where that darkness stemmed when it hit me last week?"
"Healer Spruce said it was because you were weak."
"Every Alamur has the darkness inside. It's whether it has anything to feed on that lets it loose. Dewdrop, I was afraid that you'll eventually leave. I was exhausted enough that it latched onto that and thrived."
Her chin quivered. "But I don't want to be why the darkness can get you."
"No, you're not. What I'm saying is it would break me to be without you. The darkness fled because you love me." He cupped her face in his hands. "I love you, Silvermist. It's impossible, but I do. And I'll spend every day trying to be worthy." Then he sealed his vow with a kiss.
"Will you come?" Her wings fluttered with hope a week later.
Going to the night club filled with Bright Fairies who would stare was bad enough, but dancing? Alamur had no sense of rhythm because dancing meant happiness—something Alamur weren't meant to feel. Dread crept, but she looked up with the biggest brown eyes.
"Everyone is going with their mates tonight. You can meet my friends, and they'll see you're not scary. But even if they won't come near, we can be together without Lord Milori yelling at us for being alone."
He took her hand. "I'll go wherever you are."
She flung her arms around his neck in excitement.
The moment she tugged him into the club, some of the fairies who liked rock music and wore black makeup turned to look. Well, every fairy turned to stare at him. He stood almost a head taller than all the other males, which didn't help him blend in.
Her hand jerked as he suddenly stopped following. She glanced back to convince him to keep coming.
A fairy in a short skirt and tiny halter top stood in his way, her black-haired head only coming up to his chin. "Hi there," she purred and set a hand on his chest.
He cleared his throat and sidestepped the fairy, as if unsure what she was doing. "Hi," he grunted and then continued to follow.
The other fairies resumed dancing and talking.
"I ride a bumblebee," she called. "Wanna go for a ride?"
A couple other females in black makeup at the bar snickered.
His eyebrows shot up and he blinked. "What is that supposed to mean? Is she drunk? As a soldier, I can arrest her for inappropriate behavior or disorderly conduct," he said in Korean, completely confused.
With a laugh, she shook her head. "It's like humans who ride motorcycles. The big bad fairies ride bumblebees." Then the smile faded and she glared at the fairy. "She wants you to go with her," she answered in Korean.
The fairy flew over. "What's your problem, pixie desert?"
He snorted a laugh. "Pixie desert? Is that supposed to be an insult?" Then his smile melted away and a glare darkened his features as he stepped in front of the fairy. "You're going to fly away and not speak to my mate again, understood?" he growled in a voice that must be reserved for disobedient soldiers. His size and dark look alone could strike fear into any fairy, much less his wrath. "You can't possibly be as stupid as you look. That's an insult, but for you it's truth. Get out of here," he snapped.
The fairy scrambled out with huge eyes, her friends close behind.
He turned to her. "Has she threatened you before?"
She shook her head, trying to hold back a smile. "I haven't seen her before. Sleet, you should be nice if my friends aren't going to think you're creepy."
But he simply shrugged. "I was—I didn't kill her."
Covering her mouth was the only way to hold back a laugh at his sarcasm.
Then he draped his arm over her shoulders and continued walking, seeming oblivious to the fairies parting like water as he went through the crowd.
Tinkerbelle flew over with Terence, her eyes wide. "Did you just scare away Tat?"
Sleet frowned. "That punk brat? Sure, why not?"
Tink's eyes bugged. "She bullies everyone! Even Vidia is scared of her!" Tink held up a hand.
He blinked. "Do you have a question?"
She laughed and grabbed his hand to high five Tink.
His brow furrowed and he looked at his hand. "Why did we do that?"
Tink gave his arm a playful punch. "For an awesome job!"
Bafflement colored his eye as he looked at her. "Why did you punch me?"
Tink laughed. "He's funny. Silvermist, you guys gotta come over. We have a table." Tink grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
Looking over her shoulder, she frowned to see two females stop him and try to flirt. His scowl sent them running.
Vidia, Fawn, Rosetta, Sled, and Iridessa all sat in a corner booth.
"Guys! I found Silvermist and..." Tink turned and frowned. "We call him soldier. What's his name?"
"Sleet." She turned to see him approach.
One eyebrow shot up and he looked shocked. "Is this where Bright Fairies come to meet mates? It's disturbing."
"Gets you in trouble is what it does," Terence mumbled and slid into the booth seat next to Tink.
Sleet frowned and sat in the one booth space left, absently pulling her down to sit on his leg. "How's that? This seems like a trap for the female mates to get angry."
"Oh, it is," Sled filled in. "A female comes over and flirts, and you may as well just have proposed mating that female."
Rosetta elbowed him in the ribs. "So, Sleet, have ya ever been here before, hun? It can be overwhelming at first." She fluffed her red curls, as she was want to do all the time.
"No," he said, suddenly seeming aware of all the eyes on him.
"Does Lord Milori really keep you in a cage?" Tink asked.
"Tink!" Vidia scolded. "Really?"
She shrugged. "It's what I've heard."
"Doesn't mean you have to say it!" Vidia looked at him. "Everything that one says, ignore it."
Tink turned red.
"Sleet, come dance." She hopped up and tugged him onto the dance floor.
"I think your friends were about to argue." His eyes scanned what other fairies were doing around him.
"Oh, I know they were," she laughed and set his hands on her hips as a Latin song came on.
He leaned down near her ear to be heard. "I've never danced before."
With a smile, she took his hands and spun. Then she took a step back and pulled his hand to follow.
When his cheeks grew pink with exertion after two more songs, she tugged him toward the bar.
"What would you like?" he called over the music.
"I'll just take a sip of your honey nectar. I get drunk easily."
He leaned an elbow on the counter and slapped down a couple flower petals to pay. "One honey nectar and a virgin Pina Colada." He threw a smile over his shoulder.
The bartender frowned. "And a what?"
Sleet instructed how to make it and then handed over the glass. "You won't get drunk, dewdrop," he called, completely oblivious to the female behind him trying to get his attention.
Taking a tiny sip, her eyebrows shot up. "It's good!"
He laughed, grabbed his drink, and then followed her.
Someone stumbled backwards, but she was scooped up around the waist and moved just in time—in time to stumble into Sleet's chest and spill a little of the Pina Colada on his tunic. "Sorry!"
But he let go of her waist and shrugged. Then he led the way to the table instead, easily parting the crowd.
"Uh, I don't know if you should drink that whole thing," Fawn said, eyeing the Pina Colada.
"Oh, Sleet got me one without any nectar in it." She took a long drink, the crushed ice offering relief from the heat of the place. The heat! She leaned over to Sleet sitting at the edge of the table. "Are you getting too hot?"
"No, but you are" he answered in Korean and winked, draping his arm across the back of her booth seat.
A laugh burst out at that cheesy but unexpected line from him.
Iridessa studied him but remained silent.
"Sleet, what division are you in?" Sled asked from across the table.
She turned to him, knowing what he did but not exactly what it was called.
"Infiltration tactics and homeland security."
Sled's eyebrows rose. "Wow, those are both high up there."
Tink frowned. "What do you mean?"
Sled waved for him to explain, but Sleet simply said, "It just takes some military years under your belt to get there."
But Sled snorted. "Yeah, military years and brains and guts. You have to have been in actual wars to work your way up to infiltration tactics—and we're not talking just the few days of the Alamur war but real, hardcore war."
Sleet glanced at her, the same question on his mind if they knew what kind of fairy he was.
"Were you in the Neverland war a few hundred years ago?" Terence asked.
He gave a slow nod.
Fawn frowned. "Didn't you get impaled in the chest with a sword during the Alamur war? I could swear I heard the Captain got it."
"Yeah, I heard it was to save Lord Milori from getting it," Tink added.
Sleet looked uncomfortable. Apparently Lord Milori didn't know the truth. "Gossip always blows things out of proportion."
Of course he wouldn't admit to anything heroic. She set a hand on his leg and raised her eyebrows. "Does it? I heard gossip that you love me." Then she held his eyes.
Again he cleared his throat. "There's gossip and then there's gossip." He cracked a smile and brushed a kiss over her lips.
"Was it in the war that you got the scars?" Tink pointed to her own face where he had blue scars reaching from his forehead to his opposite lower jaw.
"Tink! Do you not have a filter?!" Vidia scolded.
"What? I'm making conversation."
"Do you want to go dance?" She set a hand on his arm when he looked uncertain and self-conscious.
"Your friends will always be afraid if they don't know me," he said for her ears alone. Then he drew a deep breath, as if needing to gather courage.
It was a story she'd never heard and hadn't asked to avoid embarrassing him. And because instinct said she'd cry hearing about all of his scar stories.
"Captured by the enemy during a war," he said quietly and kept his gaze on his finger tracing the condensation on his glass. "They wanted information."
They all looked horrified.
Her stomach churned. This wasn't a story she wanted to know.
"You're a POW? They tortured you?" Sled breathed. "Was it the Alamur?"
He slowly shook his head. "There's a creature that preys on the Alamur," he said quietly just as the music went dead between songs.
Her head whipped to him. Was it true? A creature had caught him before? It explained why he was so terrified when it had cut his back. But maybe it was just a cover so they wouldn't figure out he was an Alamur.
"There's something worse than Alamur?" Rosetta gasped.
"Does it have claws? Those look like massive claw marks," Vidia asked, getting wrapped up in the story.
"It has claw gloves it puts on for tortures," he said.
"How did you escape?" Iridessa asked.
He stared at the glass. "You don't. You just hope it gives up trying to get the information out of you." Then a new song came on and he blinked. "Does anyone need refills?"
They all stared as he got up and walked over the bar, clearly needing a minute to shake it off.
"Wow. He's got some guts. You should bring him around more. He seems cool." Sled tipped back his drink.
"The females seem to love him. Hun, ya might wanna go save your sparrowman." Rosetta nodded toward the bar.
A female tried to flirt.
He simply looked drained.
She got up and went over. "There you are," she beamed and took his arm. "It's so hard to keep track of your mate in this crowd," she said to the female.
With a disgusted look, the fairy left.
Spinning around to him, she stood on her toes to say over the music, "Do you want to go outside for a few minutes?"
He nodded and led the way.
Once in the peaceful summer night air, he slipped her arm through his. "I probably should've told you that story privately first."
"Is it all true?" Her free hand wrapped around his forearm, too. Please let it not be so.
But he tilted his head back to look up at the stars. "It's all true."
"You don't have to tell them—or me—anything you don't want to. Honestly, I haven't asked yet because I was scared of how you've gotten so many scars."
"And there are some things I don't want you to know because they're so dark."
She shook her head. "But I want you to be able to tell me things. Does it bother you if I ask?'
His eye shifted to her. "You can ask me anything you want. I can't promise that I'll answer, though, if it's something that might be too dark. What is your question?"
With a hard swallow, she braced for it. "How long ago did the creature catch you, and how long did it keep you?"
He shifted on his feet and released a slow breath. "In the Neverland war, right after I met Lord Milori and joined his side. I didn't have a way to track time, but I stayed away for another two weeks to heal. He said I was missing for a month, so I think I was held for two weeks."
Her stomach churned. "How many of the scars are from it?"
"About half," he replied quietly and looked up at the skies again.
"You didn't tell the creature what it wanted to know, did you?" It was a statement that didn't need his answer. Tears burned.
His voice grew thick. "I made an oath to Lord Milori that I would not betray the Queen." A single tear slipped down his cheek.
Burying her face against his chest, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Does he know?"
"I fell off a cliff and was injured is what he needs to know."
Silent tears fell. "Why won't you tell him everything you've done? Why do you let him think you're a monster?"
He cleared his throat. "Alamur are self-serving, Silvermist. It's a fact."
"It's not a fact."
"Let's go back inside." He leaned down and brushed her tears away. "It's in the past, and now we're together."
Breakfast threatened to come back up. She stepped into the Keeper's library the next morning where Lord Milori looked through books. "Lord Milori?"
He looked up and frowned. "Silvermist, why are you in Winter?"
Twisting the gloves on her fingers, she took a step forward. "I need to speak with you."
Lord Milori stood. "What's wrong?"
"No one's hurt or anything."
"If you're here to plead your case for mating—"
She shook her head and stepped up to him. "If...if a fairy did something that protected the Queen, but everyone thought it was for a different, bad reason, should another fairy tell?"
His eyebrows rose. "What are you speaking of?"
Biting her lip, she wrung her hands. "Is it betraying that fairy to tell?"
A frown answered. "Why would that fairy not want it told?"
"Because it's possible that no one will believe it's true."
"Have you promised this fairy that you wouldn't tell?"
She shook her head. "It didn't come up."
"But it was told with the understanding that it's private?"
Another nod. "But I think it being a secret isn't good."
"Perhaps you should tell me what Sleet said, and then we'll figure out if we need to tell the Queen or anyone else."
Panic rose. "I didn't say it was Sleet."
He gave a patient look and motioned for her to sit beside him as he lowered into his chair again.
"He'll be furious that I told you, but I found out there are two instances when he did something that protected the Queen from attacks and no one knows. He said that Alamur only do things for self-gain, so no one would believe him. I think he's also uncomfortable with acknowledgement if anyone does believe it."
"Silvermist, if Her Majesty is in danger—"
"No, it's not recent."
"So the Alamur war was the last instance?"
She blinked.
"I'm not as dense as I apparently look. I've questioned him about why he did the transfusion, and the most he'll say is to find the Lost Nine. I can't get anything else out of him."
With a nod, she added, "The other instance was during the Neverland war after he joined with you."
He sat back. "I didn't believe him that it was a cliff, but I thought perhaps he ran into some Alamur he knew and they roughed him up."
"A creature."
His pale skin grew white and his eyes widened. "He's run into a creature before?" He shot up.
"No! Please, let me talk to him first—"
"He has knowledge of creatures and didn't tell the Queen or I?!" He shot out the door.
Sleet arrived at the end of the work day as the last fairy left. He crossed his arms over his chest and didn't say anything. His glare, however, said everything.
"I'm sorry—"
"You were told those things in confidence," he growled.
She crossed over to him. "You deserve to—"
"To have my privacy respected? To trust that my mate won't tell others what I tell her in private?" His wings gave an angry flap.
The anger would keep him from having a rational discussion right now. "I know you're angry, and I can't say that I wouldn't be if it was me. But, I hope in time you'll realize I did it because you deserve to be respected for who you are, not treated for what you are."
He took two steps closer to close the gap and thrusted a finger at the ground. "My general ambushes me with questions about things I didn't know he was told, and it's for my benefit?!" he roared.
Dropping her eyes to his chest, there was nothing to be said to fix it. "I thought..." It had been the wrong thing to do. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Tell me what happened," he ordered.
After he heard everything, he heaved an irritated sigh. "I had to tell him everything the creature did to see if it gave insight into why it returned. Especially after being demoted, I don't enjoy having to explain humiliating torture details to my General," he growled.
"I didn't mean for you to find out from him directly, much less for him to figure it out."
He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a long sigh, bringing to mind the image of Fairy Mary when she'd count to herself after one of Tink's disasters. "Why didn't you come to me to ask if it's something that could be discussed with him?"
Biting her lip, her wings tucked down and she looked up from beneath her lashes, gathering courage for more of his yelling. "I knew you'd say no," she whispered.
His eyebrows shot up, and then his eye narrowed as he cocked his head and leaned forward. "You knew I'd say no, so you decided to go find someone who would likely tell you yes?"
Oh dear, this wasn't going well. "I—"
"No, it's a yes or no question," he ordered.
A tiny nod answered.
"What in Neverland?!" He threw up his arms and walked in a circle, shoving his hands through his hair. "I...if...you..." He stopped before her, and his left hand raise and squeezed the air as he clearly held his tongue. "Ughhhhh!" He shot up into the sky above the clouds.
Sinking onto the grass, she stroked a baby ladybug crawling past. "I think I'm in big trouble." Then the thought occurred that Lord Milori suffered nightmares and PTSD from his capture, but his tortures probably hadn't been as bad as Sleet's. Or as long.
Within minutes, he slammed to the ground in front of her and let out a long sigh of dwindling patience. He held down his hand to help her up, but his expression still looked fierce.
"I—"
"Acht." He held up a hand, clearly not in the mood for talking, but he didn't release her hand as he started walking toward her house.
She followed in silence. It'd become apparent with Tink that silence could calm a temper more than an apology sometimes.
Home came into view minutes later.
"Don't break my trust again," he stated, without looking at her.
The realization hit. "Sleet, I didn't think of it that way. I'm sorry. I love you, and I only meant to help."
This time, a weary sigh escaped as he turned to face her at the doorstep. "I know. There are things I need to be able to tell you and trust that they remain between us." He looked slightly heartbroken with his next words. "I need to be able to trust that you're never going to tell anyone, even your friends, what I am."
Simply the fact that he felt he needed to say it hurt, but it was understandable why he did. Setting her hands on his chest, she looked up. "I can promise that is something that I'll never tell anyone. If we disagree on something being private, I'll come talk to you about it first next time. I don't want you afraid to trust me."
He searched her eyes. "You're worried about something."
How could he tell? This needed to be worded carefully. "Come inside for a moment."
"Lord Milori forbid us to be alone."
"Then let's go for a walk somewhere more private." This couldn't be overheard by anyone.
After he searched the field to ensure they were alone, he stood before her and waited.
"I don't know if I should bring this up, and I don't want you to feel like I think something is wrong with you," she said in Korean. "I was thinking that Lord Milori is said to go to therapy for what he went through, which sounds like it's not as bad as what you've experienced. Do you—"
He cleared his throat, as if uncomfortable with the topic. "I don't need therapy and don't have PTSD. Lord Milori explained a bit of what he's gone through and had me talk to Spruce and a therapist this morning because he was worried about the same thing. Trauma manifests in Bright Fairies in ways that are unhealthy because Bright Fairies aren't meant to know such evils, much less experience them. Because of what I am and there's already darkness in me, I'm not affected much mentally."
"You said once that you were hurt with saws—"
"It's not a story for you, dewdrop."
"Was it the creature?" Nausea swam up.
He tilted her head up to meet his eyes. "It happened so long ago. I want us to focus on right now and the future."
A frown of concern tugged. "Don't you have nightmares or something? I don't understand how it could do such horrible things to you and..." Sobs suddenly burst out.
"Dewdrop," he said in a low, soothing tone as he wrapped his arms around, "sometimes I do have a nightmare, but that's all. It's different for me than it would be for you, and I know that's hard to comprehend. But, I need you to trust me—"
"But you were so s,scared when it c,cut your back," she wept against his chest.
"Just because I'm an Alamur doesn't mean I'm not afraid of death. Silvermist, I need you to not focus on it. It's not something that I like to think about, but it's not a traumatizing memory."
Her arms slid around his hips and held tight as the tears fell.
"Does the thought of it frighten you?"
A nod.
"Do seeing the scars frighten you?"
Her lower lip quivered as more tears welled. "Just because then I think about how you got them and you were probably s,screaming like when it cut your back..." More sobs.
"Dewdrop? Are you scarred from the pain of when you broke your arm?"
"N,no."
"It was like that. I'm made to endure pain that would kill a Bright Fairy. You cannot think about what it must've been like because that's not what it was like for me. I'm not being heroic or dramatic to say there are things you can't know that happened—I told Lord Milori the gist of what happened, and he vomited and fainted because Bright Fairies literally cannot tolerate such evils. It's just a fact, and I don't feel like I'm shouldering these burdens or am isolated not having anyone to tell them to. I don't need to talk about them like a Bright Fairy would to get them out. It happened, it's in the past, and now I have you."
Sitting in an evergreen in Winter that night, sleep beckoned. A brisk, peaceful snowfall drifted from the skies. Silvermist had turned off her light hours ago, but something about the moonlight over the blankets of fresh snow was too beautiful to not admire for a while.
A scream ripped through the Summer night in the distance.
His eyes shot open, the thundering in his chest almost painful. A sick thrill shot through from around his heart and his wings buzzed in excitement. It was a scream of terror and pain—the best kind to feed on as an Alamur. But it offered more brightness to his glow than should've been possible.
Silvermist.
Diving off of the tree limb, he shot as fast as possible toward her home.
She laid twitching in bed, with tears soaking her cheeks, still in the middle of the same scream. A night terror. Gathering her in his arms, he purred, "Dewdrop, wake up. It's just a dream. It's alright."
Her body shuddered hard as her eyes flew open.
The darkness. She couldn't see as well as him in the darkness to realize it was him. "Dewdrop, it's me. You had a nightmare. You're safe at home."
She clawed to sit upright and wrapped her arms around, burying her face against his neck. "It cut my arm with a knife. I c,couldn't take it, so it went back to sawing you," she sobbed.
"What cut you?"
"The c,creature. I didn't protect y,you."
Closing his eyes for a moment, he cradled her tight. "My dewdrop, don't you see? You were so brave that you did protect me when the creature hurt me. There's no need for you to try to endure tortures to save me, because it's your love that protects me."
She simply held tight and wept.
Looking up at the ceiling, his breath hitched as a heaviness grew in her glow around his heart. The darkness was trying to reach her. How he'd come by all the scars shouldn't have been announced so abruptly—it probably frightened her and caused anxiety and fear.
"Dewdrop, I need you to let go just for a moment." He eased her arms off and yanked off his shirt and then slipped the shoulder of her nightgown down. Pressing his heart against hers, warmth grew and grew longer than it ever had, possibly revealing how much the darkness had fed on her fears.
Her tears faded to soft sniffles. She tried to pull back as the heat grew intense.
"Just another moment," he breathed, the heat almost painful now.
"It hurts," she whimpered.
He loosened his grip, and she fell back against his arms.
Wide brown eyes looked up at him, searching the dark. "What happened? Why did it hurt?" A shiver ran through her.
Easing her strap back up, he pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her. "I think the darkness tried to reach you. The longer our glows combined, the more I felt it trying to hold onto you. It's gone now. That could be why you've been crying so much lately."
With a stunned nod, she rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I feel better."
Neverland, there was only one way to truly protect her from the darkness—to become her mate.