A Dark and Deadly Beauty

The Morning After

Weak sunlight filtered through the foggy window, just bright enough to pull Beck from his dreams. The brazier in the room had gone out sometime in the night, and refreshingly icy early morning air chilled his face and seared his lungs as he yawned long and deep. A smile spread across his face as he looked at the bed where he lay.

A spray of silky black hair covered his chest and soft, brown skin was pressed against him from where Electra had nuzzled her back into his side. She had pulled the furs on her bed up to her chin and was curled up beneath them, snoring lightly in her peaceful sleep.

He wanted to burrow back down beneath the furs and bury his face in Electra’s hair. He wanted to snake his arms around her waist and hold her while the whirling winter wind battered at the door of the little cottage, tucked safely away from the bite of the frost and the expectations of the world.

But, his bladder ached and his stomach was cramping with hunger. He needed to get up, but he wasn’t sure what the protocol was for this.

He had never spent the night with any of the women he had bedded before.

But after touching Electra, tasting her, watching the stars dance in her onyx eyes as he brought her wave after wave of pleasure…he couldn’t pull himself away from her.

So they had cuddled beside the fire, sipping warm cider and talking about whether Adamina was actually a siren or a sorceress until Electra’s head dropped

against his shoulder and he carried her off to bed. He had spent the night with half-feral warrior woman in his arms, and he slept as soundly as he had as a babe in arms

In fact, the last time he had slept beside a woman was when he was still a small child.

He was plagued by night terrors as a young boy, and often Beck would wake up in his little bed screaming for the mother he had never met. His shrieks would wake Faren, who had been sleeping soundly in his own bed on the other side of the room, and soon both boys would be weeping in fear.

And each time, the late Queen Grace would float into their nursery in her night shift, a candle in her hand and her face haloed by wild, blonde curls. She would whisper kind words and take the frightened boys by the hand and lead them to the massive bed she shared with Algar.

With a gentle shake, she would wake the King and motion for him to scoot over. Bleary eyed, Algar would always take one look at the boy's puffy, tear-stained cheeks and his face would soften. Wordlessly, the King of the Dark Realm would squeeze himself into the edge of the bed. Faren would climb in beside his father, nuzzling against the King until there was no space for fears or bad dreams to reach him.

Beck would inch beneath the coverlet after Faren and wait for Grace.

She would slip into bed, and blow out the candle, pillowing Beck’s head in the crook of her arm. He could still remember the smell of her lemony perfume and the feel of the sleeve of her linen night

dress against the back of his neck.

Then, the human Queen of the Fay, his foster mother, would tenderly run the tips of her soft, cool fingers over his forehead, again and again until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

The memory of the late Queen no longer cracked open the wound inside of Beck where his grief used to be. Years ago, it would have turned his throat dry and his eyes watery.

Instead, it filled Beck with clarity, as if Grace was guiding him through navigating the difficult waters of romancing Electra.

Grace had shown him -both with her words and her example- how to treat the people he cared about. And after last night, there was no denying that cared about Electra.

So he made the decision to do what he would do for anyone he held dear. He slipped out of the bed, and went on the hunt for breakfast.