Was I pathetic enough to pretend I was too dizzy to walk up the stairs to the dining room just so I could lean heavily on my mistress? Yes. Did she take the hint and decide to carry me bridal style just to one-up me? Also yes. I’m ashamed to admit I’d really taken to my new job as the queen’s pet over the last few months, absorbing every single ounce of her attention by any means necessary. 

Okay, maybe I wasn’t that ashamed. But she flaunted her attention and spoiled me rotten after a shitty 21 years. How else did she expect a brat to react except by making it her problem?

And it wasn’t like she was unarmed in our game of “drive each other mad.” Varella was the fucking Raven Queen. She had all the magic that comes with a dark throne of Faerie. She knew I was powerless against her domineering ways, and there was absolutely no armor I could equip to defend against her piercing and all-knowing gaze. 

The way her violet eyes were capable of drowning me in a sea of surrender, the way her fingers could find any inch of my body to spread shivers, and the way her voice would slip into my subconscious, lulling me into whatever plans the eternal mind of an arcane monarch concocted rendered any fight I put up against her charms null and void. 

But I liked that. Gods be damned I liked it a lot. I was enthralled with the ways she owned every inch of my body, mind, and soul. The feelings I’d get when I knew just how deeply she held me left my body quivering in anticipation of whatever the fuck she wanted to do next, be it melting me in a puddle of cuddles or unleashing a surprisingly horny corner of my mind I’d not had much chance to explore before striking my bargain with the queen. 

And that wasn’t the only thing I wanted to explore. The fae carrying me to dinner was seven feet of muscled goddess I’d only had the pleasure of being metaphysically fucked by a few times since my arrival. 

It turns out heavy is the head that wears that modest silver crown and sits on the corvid throne. If the CEO of a Fortune 500 company gets a puppy, she doesn’t get to drop everything and spend all her time playing with the pet. She should. But this is a queendom that has stood for centuries. The court doesn’t merely prop itself up while the queen is distracted, much as I wish that were the case. 

A smile spread across the queen’s face as she asked, “My pet? You seem so lost in thought. What occupies your mind?”

What was I supposed to do? Confess that fantasies of further domination had cornered my attention span once more? Never! 

“I was just thinking about— what we’re going to eat. You know, because I’m famished from the werewolf transformation.” 

Yeah, she totally bought that, I thought, surprised by my quick lie. 

“Oh, I think you’re hungry, starving even. But not just for dinner, my little wolf,” Varella said, before holding me up to whisper in my ear. “I think you’re dying for dessert as well.” 

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I found myself immediately disarmed in our game. But my metaphorical sword hadn’t just fallen to the ground, she’d flicked it from my hand so hard that it flew into a stone wall 20 feet away. Just to remind me of our vast difference in ability. 

I had no more words being so disarmed. So the queen chuckled and continued walking up the tower. 

A few minutes later, we sat at an ornate round table I’d sometimes fantasized about the queen taking me on. A silver cloth covered the table under our plates and black cloth napkins. Candles in the shape of baby crows were the only thing lighting our meal. They were enchanted so the wax didn’t melt. I loved looking at the little corvids that appeared to be hopping around the table. 

One of the kitchen staff brought in a plate filled with veal scallopini and a bowl of sliced plums. Steam skipped into the air and over to my nostrils, leaving me feeling like I was about to float over the table like in those old cartoons. 

Carefully, I watched the queen pick up her silverware and dig in, always making sure my mistress took the first serving. Because she was worth it. The behavior was a small display of subservience, but I sometimes caught a little grin of acknowledgment when I waited a beat to bite my food. 

I tore into that veal as though it was my last meal, and the tenderness of this cut paired with rosemary and thyme opened the gates wide enough for a little moan to escape my throat. 

The kitchen staff had stayed around just long enough to receive that unintentional compliment before nodding his head and retreating to the meal prep area. 

Goddamn, I eat better as a pet than I ever did in my mortal life, I thought, emptying half my plate in two minutes flat. What could I say? As a werewolf, I had little control when it came to appetite control. The beast wanted to eat and without any delay, none of that “savoring your food” shit. Tongue to belly was almost a race. 

I’d just devoured a plum when the kitchen staff returned with a bottle of Pinot Noir and a pair of crystal glasses. He poured them half full and then retreated once more as I sipped from my cup. 

“So, my pet, I’m sure you’ve been curious about my plans and why I’ve been so busy these last couple weeks,” she said in between bites of pasta. 

That’s an understatement, I thought, taking another sip of my wine. 

“Am I allowed to know what it is if even your wings don’t know?” I asked. 

The Raven Queen nodded and showed no reluctance whatsoever, which surprised me. What secrets do you share with your pet but not your spies?

“It’s all about Bliss,” the queen said, taking another bite of food. Outside near the balcony, a blue jay was making final calls for the evening before settling into its nest. I waited for the queen to tell me what Bliss would entail. 

“I’ve been working on planning the biggest revel in Faery. Bliss is an event held once a century, and nobles from every court gather to celebrate,” she said. 

I cocked my head to the side a little. 

“You’ve been planning a giant party?” I asked. 

The queen chuffed, and I shrank back into my chair a little bit. Apparently, this was a stupid question to ask. But the queen didn’t look upset. This was merely another concept she’d have to explain to a mortal who now called Faerie home. 

“It’s more than just a party, my pet. Bliss is a celebration centered around the Rosemund Comet, which bathes all of Faerie in unique magic for just a few hours. It’s an intoxicating energy that fills every fae with the nourishment of eternity. The stone of cold fire refreshes our spirits so that we may carry on another century without the burden of time,” she said. 

Yup, that was a stupid question, I thought. 

“My apologies, mistress. I didn’t mean to downplay such a significant event. Obviously, this is more important than I could know,” I said, finishing my meal, and placing my silverware on the plate to signal to the kitchen staff that I was done. 

Taking a sip of her wine and licking her lips in approval, Varella waved her hand in a way that said “No harm, no foul.” 

“The celebration serving as bookends to Bliss is a revel to end all revels. You already know that we fae are creatures that carry an overt fondness for riddles, dancing, and games. We celebrate many things with drink and merriment, but also the Wild Hunt and a spirit of fervor given chase. But Bliss is something entirely more grandiose.” 

Nodding, I looked across the table at my mistress, taking in her lesson on the happenings of immortal creatures. 

“So this meticulous planning on your part has all been to get Perth ready to host Bliss? Like the festival for the dryads?” I asked. 

The queen finished eating and placed her silverware on top of her plate as well. 

“Exactly. In one week, the Faerie courts will meet at Kilgara, the one sacred and neutral place in all of our lands. There, the kings and queens of every court will present their plans for the revel and decide which palace will host the celebration,” she said. 

All trace of flirtation and levity fled the queen’s face as she went over her intent. I could feel a weight upon the room that didn’t usually exist when we were together. And. . .was I imagining things, or did the queen’s heart speed up a little just now?

She’s nervous about this, I thought. 

“And you intend to host Bliss?” 

The queen nodded, finishing her wine. 

“It is, my pet. Because when Bliss is complete, whichever land that hosted is permitted to ask a boon of any court in Faerie that attended the revel. And that land must grant the request, no matter what,” she said. 

“It’s like a wish,” I said. 

“Of sorts.” 

After the plate and cutlery had been cleared away, we were treated to a large pile of lemon bars that crumbled perfectly in my mouth. 

Another moan escaped as I reached for a second treat before I’d finished the one on my saucer. 

“Mistress, will I travel with you to Kilgara?” 

“Do you wish to go?” She asked. 

I might have nodded faster than ever before, nearly causing my brain to rattle around in its thick noggin. 

“I’d love to see the most sacred place in Faerie, and since it’s neutral ground, then it’ll be perfectly safe, right?”

The queen rubbed her chin lightly before staring out the window as the sun was dismissed in place of its pale sister. 

“Nothing in Faerie is perfectly safe, my pet. Remember that. You have a posh life here, and I spoil you at my pleasure. But if you go out there, it’ll be in the form of your beast. Just because we’re meeting in neutral territory doesn’t mean we can’t be attacked en route,” she said. 

I slowly nodded, coming to understand what all that would entail. My wolf form for travel there and back? I guess that was only fair since my inner wolf didn’t get nearly as much time on the outside as I did. And the queen would want me armed with fangs and claws to defend myself if some other court tried to prove itself. 

I’d finished a third lemon bar by the time another question rose to mind.

“Do you have any more preparations to make in your plans before we leave for Kilgara?” I asked. 

The queen thought for a moment and then shook her head. 

“No, I’m pretty much finished. But we will make a short trip tomorrow for one final bit of business. After that, it’s just a matter of waiting for the presentations and practicing my persuasion.” 

I watched golden light dance upon the crow candles before a grin broke out across my face. If her preparation was done, then. . .. 

“Mistress, you could always practice your persuasion on me before the event. I’d love to help you in any way I could,” I said, tapping a finger on the tablecloth. 

Varella’s smile matched my own as one of her legs found mine under the table, and she slipped off a show to rub her foot against my own. Gooseflesh dotted my arms and thighs as I stared into her eyes again. 

“Oh, I already know I can persuade you to do anything, my pet. It’s one of the things I take great pleasure in, ravishing you like no other. But as I suddenly find myself with a little more free time, I imagine we could rehearse my skills in the art of persuasion. And perhaps when I’m finished speaking, my silver tongue could find other things to practice,” she said with a sultry stare that once more left me flushed, cheeks burning like you wouldn’t believe. 

She continued stroking my foot with hers for a moment as our legs flirted under the table to match our stares above the cloth. 

Varella stopped when the kitchen staff came to remove our dessert. The lemon bars hadn’t survived. 

One last question popped into my head, and I raised an eyebrow. 

“My queen. . .where exactly are we going tomorrow?”

Without missing a beat, she replied, “Why, to meet my brother, of course.”