Courts and Cabals 2 by G.S. D'Moore (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📗

Godric. When she looked up, her silver eyes met her mother’s red in a battle of dominance. It was one Aveena knew she would lose, but had to fight anyway. She needed her mother to know she wasn’t going to fuck around with the petty games of her court. She needed her mother to remember her daughter’s power.

Unlike Aveena’s naked flesh, her mother wore what amounted to a bikini. It was enough to cover her great breasts and slit between her legs. If Ymira went around naked, it would drive the males mad with desire, and leave nothing but death and destruction in her wake.

Which, as Aveena entered the room as naked as the day she was born, was exactly what happened. The male guards on either side of the door roared a mating challenge and clashed with one another. Several others joined the fray and soon blood and flesh flew all around her. She advanced through it all, doing her best to look like the princess she was.

Ymira’s power eventually hammered her to a standstill, and pushed her eyes to the ground in a show of defeat. When Aveena looked up, she saw her mother watching the battle near the door with what was clearly a hint of pride. She liked that her daughter had pulled one over on her. It showed cleverness and the theatrics the Fae were famous for.

Others standing around Ymira did not look as pleased. At the foot of the stairs leading to the throne was a troll. He was older, Aveena could tell by the sagging of his muscles, but he bore a resemblance to Ser Fredrick. She could guess why he was here, but he was beneath her station, so she ignored him.

To Ymira’s left was Aveena’s father; Ser Woodspark, a powerful will-o’-the-wisp, youngest son of the Master of the Hunt and Lady of Autumn. He barely reached her mother’s waist. His flesh was light red, almost pink, and he looked very breakable compared to the frost giants surrounding him. Where the females wore strips of fabric to cover up the interesting bits, and the males nothing at all, Ser Woodspark was clothed in finery that made him shine like the sun. Silk clothing with gold thread adorned him. His tunic had a high collar with twin, gold sunbursts inlaid with rubies. His ears came to sharp points, even more so than Aveena’s, and his whole face had a sharp beauty to it. She got her looks from her father’s side of the family, along with her silver eyes and white hair. The red fractal patterns blazing across her skin were her mother’s species, so she was a good mix of her parents.

Like her mother, her father didn’t look happy, but that had nothing to do with her. It had everything to do with the man standing on Ymira’s right. Her mother and father were not married like humans would believe. When you lived forever, it was pointless to tie yourself to one person. Matings between powerful families were arranged to keep bloodlines fresh and see if they produced any interesting gifts. Aveena’s own power of fire and ice was the result of such a coupling, and with her mother being one of The Nine, she got the right to raise Aveena. Such matches were also a symbol of prestige, which was why her father looked particularly pissed.

Aveena came to a sudden stop in the center of the throne room as she looked at her mother closely. No one would ever call her mother soft. She was a warrior built for battle. She was all thick muscle. She could crush the strongest human male, and most Fae between her thighs with ease. As Aveena studied her, she swore there was a slight bulge to her belly.

“No!” rage and fear, hot and cold, raced through her veins. It must have showed on her face, because her mother smiled savagely down at her.

The man on her right looked pretty fucking smug too. He was a head taller than Aveena’s father, with thick, wavy hair. He wore his shirt unbuttoned to show off the thick fur of his broad chest. His smile showed white, long, sharp teeth. Like her father, he was the son of one of The Nine. By the smell of wet dog, she was getting off him, he had to be a child of the Master of Hounds. Like her mother, the Master of Hounds was Unseelie, while Ser Woodspark’s family was Seelie. If her mother was indeed pregnant, and she had a daughter, the younger female would have a more legitimate claim to the throne than Aveena.

She tried not to show it, but her whole world came crashing down around her at that revelation; and that was exactly what her mother wanted to happen. The Lady of Winter cocked her head to the side and waited for Aveena’s response.

“Bitch!” Aveena spat, as she composed her face, and was glad her mother couldn’t read minds.

Rumors said the Master of Hounds had such a gift, and from the smart-ass look on the newcomer’s face, he might have inherited that power from daddy.

“Aveena Foxbelle, my daughter, my disappointment, step forward,” Ymira’s words hammered into Aveena like anvils.

The battle to the death behind them was totally forgotten as she stepped forward. She tried to keep her chin up, but it was hard as the very reason for her existence, and central point of her personality, was suddenly challenged by something that wasn’t even born yet.

“You have brought great shame and dishonor upon our House,” Ymira went on to list everything Aveena had done since birth that had displeased her.

Ymira included everything from the time three-year-old Aveena had stolen honey bread from the kitchens, to her recent failure to provide the necessary offerings for the mating ritual; which, ironically, was supposed to be with the son of the man standing on