Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The tea room (and there was an entire room just dedicated to the queen having tea) was filled with floral arrangements, all kinds of flowers I couldn’t even begin to identify. There were a few here and there I recognized, a few daffodils, some roses. But the vast majority were new to me in sight and smell. 

Of particular interest to me was a shorter flower that had no leaves, but giant blue and white petals. It was one of the more common in the tea room and smelled like a combination of citrus and ocean breeze. 

I didn’t count the total number of vases, but it seemed each flat surface had one holding flowers. They stood a few feet tall, some wrapped in dark-colored ribbons. Others were in the shapes of various animals, squirrels, birds, etc. 

Walking closer to the table, I saw the Raven Queen already seated and patiently waiting. I’d probably taken too long in the bath because let's be honest, when was the last time I’d been able to take one? Dad cheaped out on everything, including utilities. 

My showers were timed at five minutes to avoid water waste. He was proud of the fact that each month’s water bill came in under $37. 

But here, the queen seemed perfectly content to allow me access to everything from hot baths to an entire assortment of beautiful clothes. 

The chairs around her table were wooden and carved with intricate patterns of rose bushes. Each chair had a black cushion the size of the seat. 

Pulling out the chair and seating myself, I placed my arms on a thin white tablecloth, one that was almost as pale as my skin and the queen’s. For coming from such wildly different backgrounds, we were damn near identical in skin tone. 

The queen’s makeup was minimal, and a simple crown stood poised upon her head. I always wondered how much of a hassle it was for monarchs to keep a crown on their heads at all times. She seemed to do it easily enough, but she was fae. Otherworldly grace was kind of their thing, along with almost an alien-like beauty. 

“Comfortable, my pet?” she asked, and all I could do was nod. Nod and stare into her violet eyes that were as inhuman as my reddish-brown irises. 

The queen lifted a porcelain teapot, and I slid over the little white cup on a saucer in front of me. 

“This has been steeping for about 10-15 minutes now, so I’d wager it’s as good as it’s going to get,” the queen said. 

I cleared my throat, a little uncomfortable. 

“Sorry, your grace. I didn’t mean to delay you. I probably took too long bathing and getting ready,” I said as the queen poured my tea first. 

I had taken a while to get ready, all the while panicking at the multiple shelves of cosmetics available to me in the bathroom. I froze, unsure of what to use. What was appropriate for tea with your queen?

Barsilla helped me in the end, pointing out what went well with the dress and would compliment my ensemble. The queen sat across from me wearing a black strapless dress that left her shoulders and sleeves bare. Wine-colored stockings hugged her thighs. The queen’s lips were painted a similar color, as were her eyes. And even though it’d taken the queen’s left-hand lady to get me even halfway presentable, Varella made her entire ensemble look effortless. 

She cocked her head to the side a bit and said, “Why apologize, my pet? This is your new home, and I want you to enjoy it. If you bought a new toy for your dog, would you expect them to apologize for playing with it too long?”

There it was again, that pet comparison. It wasn’t just a name. She truly thought of me as a pet, and I wasn’t sure what to think about that. The last couple of days had been a whirlwind. From murdering my father to running from the law to being granted sanctuary at the cost of my autonomy. 

Well. . . No, that wasn’t quite right. I still had my autonomy, didn’t I? 

It’s not like she’s in my head giving me commands, I thought. So what am I really as a pet? 

The fae monarch sitting across from me pouring her tea would have to answer that. The question was. . .how did I get her to do so? Was my role as a pet somehow classified information? Was the whole thing supposed to be a surprise? 

As I sat here waiting for the queen to pour tea, I considered my predicament in totality for the first time. I’d been granted sanctuary from the sheriff and his deputies. But what had it cost me? I wasn’t clear. 

“Sugar?” the queen asked, and I shook my head. 

She smirked, which made me shiver. 

“Why so demure, my pet? You seem full of thought, yet empty of words,” she remarked, sliding my tea over to me. 

The amber liquid before me sloshed a little but never came close to spilling it. It smelled of fresh honey and wildflowers. I’ll admit I drank greedily and without regard for how fast my cup emptied. 

That earned me another grin from the queen. 

Clearing my throat again, I said, “I guess I’m a little nervous. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing as the royal pet.” 

“My pet,” the queen said, emphasizing that first word. “I’m not sharing you with anyone else, no kings, princes, or princesses. You belong solely to me.” 

“Right, your pet,” I said with a similar emphasis on the second word. “But again, I don’t know what that entails. Am I supposed to do tricks for you or something?”

A light giggle from the Raven Queen. 

“You’re not a jester, little wolf. I’m not going to balance a treat on your nose and make you pose before eating it. I just want a companion, that’s all. Isn’t that why most humans get pets? They want a companion by their side?” 

I was torn. Being regarded as a pet for companionship was a little degrading. But I also couldn’t ignore the less-than-subtle thrill it brought me, knowing I was hers. And if everything was pretty dresses, and tea, did I really have much to complain about?

“So. . .no collar, then?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

The queen took a sip and said, “No need. I already marked you, remember?”

She had done exactly that, as I discovered when looking at my reflection after bathing. I found a marking on my neck in the shape of two black feathers, each about the size of my index finger, one stacked on another in the shape of a very lazy “x”. 

The marking felt cold against my neck whenever the Raven Queen was close, as she was now. I’d dismissed the paranoid thought earlier, but after hearing the queen’s words, I was left wondering if the marking was designed for me to know whenever the queen was near so I wouldn’t ignore her. 

As the queen finished her tea, another fae came in with a large silver platter and placed it on the table. Lifting the lid, I saw several finger sandwiches, turkey, ham, chicken, lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers, and more all on tiny slices of bread smaller than the palm of my hand. 

My stomach growled, and my mouth watered. There were maybe 15 sandwiches on the platter, and I suddenly remembered I’d been asleep for two days. 

I started to reach forward when I stopped and looked at the queen. 

She took one sandwich for herself and said, “Oh go on, my pet. I know you’re ravenous. I had a large breakfast. Consider the platter yours.” 

With another shred of hesitation, I paused, pulling my hand back toward me. 

“Why do you hesitate, darling?” Varella asked. 

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’ve been extremely kind to me since we met. But it’s just really difficult for me to shake my mother’s childhood warnings about dealing with fae and my father’s cruel behavior. I never really ate much under his roof.” 

Varella’s eyes softened a bit. 

“I can tell. For a werewolf, you’re skin and bones. It looks like you’ve been running on the bare minimum a person needs for years. Let’s see if I can’t put your mind at ease. With regards to bargaining with the fae, your mother was correct,” she said. 

I flinched at that.  

“You should never enter faerie dealings without being properly armed with the utmost caution and skepticism. As a group, we do so love ensnaring mortals by dangling their heaviest desires before them and winding a trap of words around their feet as they run toward their supposed prize. But I already have you, lock, stock, and barrel, my pet. You needn’t worry about our dealings, because the deal is already done. You’re my pet. So when I place food before you, you can be assured it’s not part of some trap. I already have what I want.”

I slowly reached for a sandwich but stopped short once again. 

The queen, to my surprise, didn’t sigh as I expected her to. 

“Sierra,” she said, and I looked up into her eyes, almost feeling like I was moving in slow motion. “If I wanted to torture someone, I have a dungeon full of bastards with which to do so. You’re my pet, not my prisoner.” 

Nodding and again slowly reaching across the table, I grabbed a cool sandwich, this one with turkey and cucumber. It somehow vanished into my belly before I’d even registered it, and damn was it good. Fuck Jimmy John’s and Subway. If I wanted a sandwich from now on, I knew who to pester. 

My eating wasn’t exactly cartoonish, but I kind of lost control and pulled the platter over to myself, eating one sandwich after another while holding on to my manners for dear life. I used the napkin next to my tea cup several times before I overheard the queen say, “Bring in another platter.” 

By the time I finished this one, another was placed before me. 

I paused to glance at the queen who, again, took one sandwich and motioned for me to have the rest. If these things were poisoned, oh well, it was a good last meal. 

When I’d finished this platter, another fae came in with a three-tiered stand about as tall as my arm. On each level, some kind of small piece of cake or other baked goods. 

I wiped the drool from my mouth as another fae brought me a third napkin. 

This time, the queen choose two pieces of food, a macaroon, and a brownie. I started with a cookie, then moved on to a slice of vanilla cake. Once it was gone, I reached for an almond croissant and finished off an iced lemon loaf, all of which exploded with flavor in my mouth, unlike anything I’d ever tasted before. 

My stomach had to remind me three times it was full before I got the picture with a cramp and some nausea. 

Okay, already. Geez, I thought. Calm down. 

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. 

“Content once more?” the queen asked, having moved on from tea to coffee. 

What else could I do but nod?

“Do you trust me now, my pet?” she asked. 

We were back to that again? Why did Varella seem so hung up on the idea that I had to trust her? Did I? Not particularly. I mean. . .I didn’t suspect her of outright harm yet, but there was just always going to be part of me that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hell, with my life, maybe I was waiting for three or four shoes to drop. 

When I didn’t answer, the queen nodded. 

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“I see. Well, let’s try one more thing. What if we played a game, little wolf?” she asked with a wicked grin. 

Oh yeah, because that sounds trustworthy, I thought. 

“If you win the game, I’ll set you free back in the world you came from. I’ll even erase the memories of that sheriff and his men so you can go about your life,” she said. 

I slowly leaned forward as my heart skipped a beat. 

“Back? I’d go back, and there’d be no consequences for murdering my father?” I asked. 

“Not a single one. Hard to charge a girl with murder when you don’t even remember her,” the queen said. 

Now I raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you get if I lose?” I asked. 

“I’ll take your inner wolf,” she said. 

This may have been embarrassing to admit, but I didn’t have a clue what that was. I’d been an active werewolf for years, but my mother had died before she could teach me anything about it, before I even changed for the first time. 

“What do you say, my pet?” 

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” I asked. 

There was that grin again. 

“That one is actually quite simple. When a faerie makes an oath or grants their word and then fails to keep it, we die an excruciating death as our bodies fall to pieces. That’s why we’re so rare to take them. But I do swear to honor this contest if you win. You’ll be free once more with your crimes erased,” she said. 

I shrugged. What else did I have to lose at this point besides whatever the fuck my inner wolf was? And was I even using it? Was this the equivalent of her taking my appendix?

For this game, we moved to a small, intimate lounge that Varella just referred to as the first-floor lounge. A long, soft red couch sat next to an oak coffee table and two more matching red chairs. In the corner, a cozy fireplace cast a yellow glow and deep shadows over the parlor. 

A small chandelier filled with many colored stones sparkled above us. 

Our feet met another hardwood floor. 

The queen took a seat on the couch and motioned for me to join her there. I pulled my legs inward, sitting criss-cross and looking at Varella, waiting to hear more about this game. Would I win my freedom? And if so, why wasn’t I more excited? My feelings were a complicated mess, but I had to figure being free was a healthy goal to have. . .right? How ridiculous would it be for me to stay here and remain someone’s pet, as though I were a rabbit or a new puppy. Freedom had to be the safe route. It just had to be. 

“The game is likely one you’ve heard of. I discovered it a few years ago and rather enjoy playing it with other fae. It’s called two truths and a lie. You know the rules, yes?”

I nodded. How could I not? My friends and I played this at every birthday party. My instincts usually gave me a strong hint about the lie in each person I listened intently to. 

“You go, and I’ll guess,” Varella said.

Thinking for a moment and scratching the side of my head, I gave it my best shot. These were things the fae queen would have no way of knowing. 

“I come from an abusive household. My favorite color is green. I once caught a 25-pound catfish with my bare hands,” I said, confident I was about to earn my freedom. She’d practically gifted it to me on a silver platter. 

The queen didn’t even take time to think. She merely said, “You lie about your favorite color, my pet.” 

How the fuck? I thought. 

I figured for sure she’d guess the fish was the lie. It was the most outrageous. But she’d seen right through me. Was she reading my thoughts? Was I doomed from the start?

“Your eyes looked away for a split second when you said the lie. It’s likely a habit you’re blind to,” she said. “Now to claim my prize.” 

Before I could react, she’d reached forward and into my chest. Right through the skin as though it wasn’t even there. All I could do was gasp, frozen by the chilly touch echoing across my whole chest. 

Where her flesh met mine, it felt like feathers were rustling across my skin, and I shivered at having her hand digging around in my chest as though a ghost or phantom was on a scavenger hunt. 

“Wha— what are you do—doing?” I stammered. 

At last, Varella found what she wanted and pulled back. When her fingers were clear of my chest, I saw a red orb nestled tightly in her palm. And all at once, my body was hit with the worse sensation of vertigo as I fell forward onto the queen’s thigh, facing the fireplace. 

Nothing felt right. My balance was off like my inner ears were out of sorts. My body felt light and almost imperceptible. I was shaking and feeling increasingly cold, frigid sensations claiming every muscle and joint. 

This was it, the other shoe dropping. Was this her plan all along? To claim my. . .inner wolf thing? Fuck, why couldn’t I move?

“The prize you so willingly gave away, my pet, was your wolfheart. It’s what allows you to change into a wolf under the full moon and grants you enhanced strength and even faster healing. It is your most valuable possession, and you wagered it out of ignorance,” she said, not angrily or arrogantly. Instead, Varella spoke in a soft tone and rubbed my hair as I twitched from what she’d just taken. Am I going to die?

Fear flooded my chest. Was that my last meal earlier? Had I signed my death warrant? The questions just wouldn’t stop coming. 

“A werewolf without her wolfheart will go into shock and live the rest of her life always feeling unwhole or out of balance. It’s as essential as any limb or sense, Sierra. Now, I believe it’s your turn to guess.” 

Guess?! I thought as my body continued to shake. Are we still playing this fucking game? What more can she take from me?

“I did this to hurt you, starting an unbelievable cycle of cruelty that won’t end until you beg for the release of death. I’m going to return your wolfheart. My intention is never to cause you harm but to educate you on the risks you’ll face here in my court. Which is the lie, my pet?”

Brisk shivers claimed every inch of my body now, and I understood what she’d taken from me. The queen was right. I did feel unbalanced and missing something dear to me, a thing I’d inherited from my mother. I’d foolishly wagered my wolfheart without knowing its value. 

So I had a choice to make. Either the queen was being honest and using this as a teaching moment so when future fae offered me challenges or bargains I’d turn them down flat. Or she’d brought me here to be tormented, and the niceties were simply an act up until now. My gut told me this situation was the latter, but when I paused for a moment and listened to what I desired. . . I realized I wanted to believe the Raven Queen. 

I wanted to know she’d never intentionally hurt me. And I wanted to continue being her pet for as long as I could. There wasn’t a shred of logic in any of this, given the harm my body faced and how much I was shaking. But that’s the thing about the heart. It’s a fickle bitch that wants what it wants. And I wanted to believe in the kind mistress who would never hurt me, even if all logic said otherwise. 

“My pet?” she asked. “What is your answer?”

Jumping off the high dive, I muttered, “The lie is you want to hurt me.” 

The queen sat me back up with her free hand and pushed my wolfheart back into my chest, slowly, surgically. The red orb brought forth a promise of warmth and restoration as it sank into my skin. 

And for a brief moment, I had to ask myself. Was there a dash of violet in it now? Or was that a trick of my eyes? With all the shaking, I couldn't tell. 

What I did know is as soon as the queen pulled her palm away, and I saw my wolfheart re-enter my body, things gradually returned to normal. 

“That was a shock to your system, and I know it seems cruel. But I promise you, darling, it was to make sure you understand there are fae, even in my court, who will offer you all kinds of games and challenges without good intentions. It’s just what fae do. We love riddles, stories, and games,” the queen said. 

I nodded, feeling my senses dial back up to 11. I could hear the slow and steady heartbeat of my mistress. My nose told me the logs burning in the fireplace came from a birch tree. 

And while I wasn’t shaking as much anymore, the chill that claimed my entire body was slow to retreat from my joints and muscles. 

“Come here my pet,” the queen whispered and pulled me into her arms. I felt a little warmer pressed against her. 

Then the Raven Queen did something I didn’t anticipate in the least. She slowly laid back against the full length of the couch, pulling me down with her until I was flat on top of her. I immediately tensed. This seemed like some violation of boundaries with the queen. What were her intentions here?

She held me close with her right hand pressed against my back, and her left hand reaching behind the touch to a little stand. With that hand, she pulled out a fuzzy white blanket with the emblem of a blackbird sewn into its full length. 

The queen covered both of us, her head on the couch’s armrest. My heart was beating like a jackhammer. 

“Be still, my pet,” she said. 

I tried. 

Slowly, I forced my muscles to relax and laid my head against her chest, my breasts under her own. 

“Good girl,” the queen whispered, and that did things to me I was too embarrassed to admit. But it whipped any remaining tension from my body as I finally relaxed against Varella, nuzzling at her chest with my cheeks. 

“So long as you’re with me, I always want you to feel warm and wanted. I will never hurt you, my pet. My embrace is the safest place you can be,” the Raven Queen said as she started to scratch my back under the blanket. 

I sighed as warmth returned to my body, closing my eyes. This felt perfect, even better than being wrapped in the quilt on my bed. I didn’t want to move. 

“Tell me something, my pet. If you had won, would you have actually left?” she asked, quietly. 

All I did was shake my head. 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m yours, mistress. And while it defies every ounce of logic imaginable, I think I’m happiest right here as your pet. There’s nothing in the human world worth returning to if it meant giving this up,” I said, shocked by how candid my answer was. 

I felt the Raven Queen smile again. 

“Good girl,” she whispered, and we stayed like that under the blanket for a long while. 

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