Poison (31 page)

"Everyone loves you," Freddie said, mouth quirking. "I think you're the only person all the Beasts get along with; the only people who disliked you were those most strongly affected by Etain, I would wager."

"I'm a messenger," Noire said, "not a leader."

Gael kissed his cheek, then pushed him gently into the center of the loose circle of people. "You have all the right qualities, and I think what you do not know, Verenne does …"

"And there's no romantic involvement," Freddie said. "That is the last thing anyone wants right now."

Verenne lifted her brows at Freddie, the other Beasts, and then slowly joined Noire in the circle. "Fine," she said. "But I don't want to be a queen."

Noire made a face at the idea. "I don't want to be a king. I was happy being the Voice."

"So stay the Voice," Gael said thoughtfully, regarding them. "You are mine, you represent me. You are my voice. Verenne is Freddie's voice.  You are also the voices of the people. Yes, I like the sound of it. Much like the priests that our brothers and sister have always relied upon, but with a Verde touch."

Matilda pursed her lips in thought. "The Voice of the Unicorn and the Voice of the Pegasus?"

"Not quite right," Freddie conceded. "And I refuse to consider calling Noire the 'Voice of Purity'." She slid Gael a smirking look.

He shot back a quelling glance. "Do not say it; this is neither the time nor the place." Freddie snorted at that.

"Sorrow," Noire said quietly, eyes on the ground. He slowly pulled them up to meet Gael's gaze. "All of this started because of pain. The Faerie Queen did this, hurt everyone, because she wanted everything to stay the same—wanted her idea of happiness to last forever. She couldn't accept change. No one could, really. We were all afraid, we all kept secrets. Life isn't always happy; I think everyone remembered that the wrong way, if they remembered it at all."

Verenne made a soft noise and slipped her arms around Noire, resting her head on his shoulder. "You're going to be a marvelous leader. And I think you're right:  life is never entirely joyous. It would behoove all of us to remember and appreciate that. The Voice of Sorrow. I guess that makes me the Voice of Joy."

She drew back and held out her hands, palm up. Noire placed his hand in hers and they curled their fingers together. "Let's see … how is this, then? As the first Voice of Joy of Verde, I swear to rule with honor, honesty, and love. To put the children first and myself last, and to cease to speak when my words no longer ring true."

Noire smiled. "As the first Voice of Sorrow of Verde, I swear to rule with honor, honesty, and love. To put the children first and myself last, and to cease to speak when my words no longer ring true."

"So it shall be," Gael and Freddie said together. Grasping Noire's shoulders, he kissed his cheeks, then his mouth as Freddie did the same with Verenne. Then they switched, each approving the other's choice.

Gael tipped his head back, taking in the sky beyond the glass roof. "Afternoon is already turning into dusk. Verde will be well for tonight, and tomorrow the Voices and the Beasts can begin to restore and reshape the country. Tonight, rest, because starting tomorrow we will not be getting much of it."

The Beasts nodded and slowly filed out of the Sanctuary, leaving Gael, Freddie, and their Voices alone. Gael sighed. "I hope we are doing the right thing this time." His gaze landed on Noire, and he was helpless to do anything, but drag him close and brush a kiss across lips he thought he would never touch again. "Well, I know you're the right thing, kitten."

Noire flushed, but didn't pull away, just pressed closer. "I don't know anything about leading a country."

"Neither do I," Verenne said, "Which just goes to show how much of a Beast I wasn't. We'll all learn how to do our jobs properly together. We cannot do worse than she did, at any rate."

Freddie smiled at the words and kissed her soundly. "I think it is time to take our own advice and rest. Gael, Noire, we'll see you in the morning. Do try to actually get some rest."

"What was that about taking your own advice?" Gael drawled. Freddie snickered and left with Verenne tucked firmly against her side.

His levity faded as they were left alone, and the grief he had been fighting for the sake of what had to be done finally washed over him.

"Gael—" Noire bundled closer, held him tightly. "You did the right thing. You have to know that. I'm sorry she wouldn't listen, that she couldn't try to see a new way. I'm sorry I hurt her, too."

"You were not the guilty one, kitten," Gael said and buried his face in Noire's hair. "I made my mistakes, and I will have to live with them and eventually let it all go. I don't regret what we did to her—only that it had to be done."

Noire wiped the tears from Gael's cheeks, then kissed the remaining dampness away. "Gael …"

"I love you, kitten," Gael said, then shook his head. "I guess you're not really a kitten at all, though. Not if you're a Voice of gods and of the people."

"I'm yours," Noire said. "I like when you call me that; you can't stop now."

Gael smiled, cupped his chin, and drew him in for a soft, lingering kiss. "I suppose after trying for nine hundred years to get us all to stop being stupid, you are allowed whatever you want." He hesitated, thoughts of Etain and her pain crashing through him. "You know, Noire, that you are not stuck with me. If ever you change your mind and want to be free—"

Noire cut him off with a hard kiss, biting at his lip and drawing back only just far enough to reply, "I suffered through nine lifetimes to be with you, Gael. I think I get to enjoy you for the next nine hundred before we worry about anything else."

"As my Voice commands," Gael said. He curled his fingers into Noire's hair, tilted his head just so, and kissed his lover and Voice beneath the shade of the Sacred Oak and the soft gold light of the setting sun.

Sealed off from the world for nine hundred years, Schatten is a country of darkness and mystery. The power of Teufel, Shadow of the Lost Licht, keeps the rest of the world out, and his deadly Sentinels keep the people of Schatten in. Their only hope for salvation lies in a single line of ancient prophecy.

Sasha wakes up with no memory of where he is, how he got there—or who he is. All he remembers is his name, and falling to a terrible beast with burning violet eyes. All he possesses are the clothes he wears, the weapons he carries, and a strange ring. All he can do is venture deeper into the land of snow and ice in which he is lost, hoping that eventually he will find answers.

Megan is a long time resident of m/m fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all around the internet.

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