“Jessamine.”
“You must have a surname,” added Bowden, a beast fae male descended from a line of healers.
Jessamine’s eyes widened slightly, and I heard the speeding of her pulse before she answered.
“I am Jessamine Glenmyr.”
I stiffened, noting a murmur among the elders. But it was Wyzel who asked the obvious question.
“You are related to the royal family of Morodon?”
Jessamine clenched her jaw before finally answering. “I am the youngest daughter of Darian Glenmyr, King of Morodon.”
I scoffed, leaning forward in my chair, elbows on knees. “You did not tell me this,” I accused.
“You did not ask,” she answered curtly.
“What we need to know now,” began Wyzel, “is why you are running. And from whom. If you are defying your father’s wishes, we could start a war with Morodon by allowing you to remain with us.”
The defiance slipped from her expression, replaced with a touch of fear. An instant growl vibrated up my throat. I didn’t like seeing that on her face. Wyzel arched a questioning brow at me, but I kept my gaze on the light fae female.
“We are a peaceful people,” added Bowden gently. “We live apart from other fae by choice, preferring not to embroil ourselves with the politics and wars of others. Tell us, Jessamine. Why are you hiding from your own people?”
She clasped her webbed hands tightly together in front of her and exhaled a heavy breath. “It is true that I am defying my father.”
Some of the clan whispered at her admittance, but they quieted quickly when she went on.
“But please understand that my father has sold me to an evil man who wishes to use my…my magick to hurt others.”
“Soldyou?” I growled, gripping the arm of my chair with force.
Her gaze met mine. “In marriage, Lord Redvyr.”
“To.Whom.” I realized my beastly rage was filling me up, my voice feral, my tail twitching, at this new confession, but I couldn’t swallow it down now if I tried.
“His name is Lord Gael of the royal House of Ryleen. He is the high lord of Mevia.”
“What magick do you possess?” asked Wyzel calmly while my blood boiled inside my veins.
Jessamine blinked nervously, her voice shaking slightly as she said, “I am a willoden. I can control water. I am also a nendovir. I have the ability to speak to and befriend naiads.”
More murmurs broke out among the people. Even Wyzel’s gray brows lifted in surprise. “This is a unique gift, to be a nendovir. Naiads are a fierce, unfriendly creature to the fae. How would your mate want you to use this gift for evil?”
“He is not her mate,” I bit out angrily with more force than I intended, fury still pouring through my veins. Holding her gaze, I demanded, “You have not bound yourself to this Lord Gael, have you?”
She shook her head. “I have not. I ran away from my home when he made it known that I was to be a tool for violence.”
“What violence do you speak of?” asked Lorelyn, the youngest on our council.
Her gentle, calm voice must have given Jessamine some reassurance to say what she was obviously holding back. I’m sure my gruff manners weren’t helping, but I also couldn’t control the hot fury needing an outlet from my body. I couldn’t temper my reaction to hearing that Jessamine was being forced to marry an evil man. What kind of father would do that to his daughter?
“I have another gift,” she said, clearing her voice. “It is a rare one. But I prefer not to speak of it.” Her face flushed pink with emotion.
When the stag dryad had attacked Jessamine, I’d been in a haze of rage, but I’d noticed her skin glowing as bright as moonlight. It faded after the attack was over, after I’d killed and ripped the dryad to shreds. I’d been consumed by my own thoughts of destroying the creature that had dared to hurt her. I’d thought her luminescent skin was part of her witchy magick of course, but I didn’t know what kind. And while she was withholding some crucial information from the council, I didn’t want to expose her secret, even if I still didn’t understand it.
Perhaps, it wasn’t very powerful magick. It hadn’t worked on the stag, but that didn’t surprise me. He was infected with this disease that had begun to spread to many creatures in Northgall. Perhaps this disease makes them immune to magick or simply stronger against it.
Not long ago, we’d seen a small pack of Meer-wolves with the same infection when they attacked the wraith king’s camp near Belladum. And there had been whispers of other creatures behaving strangely. I wondered if that had anything to do with the fact there was little game to be found on my hunt.
