God Jul from the Ever – Bonus Scene

This is a brand new scene that takes place after The Mist Thief (honestly, after all the Ever Seas books to come) so there will be mild spoilers for not only The Ever King/Queen, but The Mist Thief and The Broken Kingdoms series.

Enjoy!

The Serpent

“If you ask me one more time, old man, I will banish you to the far seas.” My voice was rough, an attempt to sound vicious, but in truth, I simply sounded like I might sleep for the next five turns.

Alistair sniffed and peered at me through his hooded eyes, hardly bothered. “Threats no longer become you, My King. And, frankly, I believe you have misheard me for what I said was nothing so awful it deserved a threat.”

“I am the king,” I grumbled. “I hear whatever I want to hear. Perhaps it is you who ought to change your damn words to fit what I wish.”

The pompous bastard clicked his tongue and held out a wooden log, stained to glisten in rich cherrywood beneath the candlelight, with holes in the top to hold the vibrant candles Alistair had dipped for this very day. “I merely asked if you prefer the log to be placed with feast table, or at the head?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because any moment now your palace will be riddled in earth fae, and elven, and more. Forgive me, but since you, Erik of the Ever, insisted you could host our queen’s folk, I imagined you would want to have a bit more thought in where the log for well-wishes is placed.”

My brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? They are arriving tomorrow.”

For the first time, Alistair’s indifference faded to something like smug stun. “No, My King. Today.”

My insides tightened. No. This wasn’t happening. By the hells. I’d been so bleeding arrogant, insisting the earth fae should bring their Jul festivities to the Ever this turn. By having everyone come to my songbird after an exhausting few months, I thought it would be good, restful. Now it was a damn nightmare.

“Alistair.” I scrubbed my hands down my face. “Is it truly today?”

He sighed with a touch of sympathy. “Yes, My King. A feast is set to happen today.”

“Godsdammit.” I refused to destroy Livia’s Jul. It mattered a great deal to her folk—to her—and the first turn I’d taken it on I would not see it ruined because my mind was a muddled mess. “I have not seen to the hall, I do not even know if the cooking rooms are—”

He held up a hand, stopping me. “Fear not, My Fatigued King. I, whom you continuously threaten to toss aside, had some foresight. I merely thought it would not be so desperately needed, more an additional set of hands. Thank the gods I am so brilliant.”

Almost on cue, the doors to the corridor opened, wood clanging against the stone of the walls. There, in the center, surrounded by folk, Mira Sekundär beamed at me like she’d won some grand game.

“Bloodsinger. I am here to save your ass.”

“What is this?”

Mira sauntered down the hall, clad in trousers, a billowing tunic that seemed made for hard labor, and her auburn hair tied up in a tall knot on her head.

Celine was tucked amongst Mira’s brigade and grinned viciously. “Don’t look at me. She can’t be stopped.”

“I have been busy in the House of Blades for two days, and Tidecaller and Stormbringer will tell you the whole of their house is better for it.” Mira paused by my side only to pat a hand against my face. She scrunched her nose and spoke in a higher tone. “Poor Ever King. It’s sweet you wanted to host, Jul. Truly, adorable. But I’ll take it from here.”

I blinked, words lost to me, as my corridors were all at once filled with glamour fae with small antlers and iridescent wings and bright, glossy clothes, a few sirens and sea witches, even several of the Ever Crew tromped toward the great hall, arms filled with clay bowls, evergreen boughs, earthy bark shaped like cones that smelled of the forests above the tides, and tallow candles.

Stormbringer towered over many, and winked with his one eye as he strode past, two stacks of wrapped logs for the inglenook on his shoulders. “My King. Bound to be a fine day, says I. Even if you forgot.”

My eyes narrowed. “I didn’t forget, I . . .”

He was already gone, hurrying to walk beside Celine. Bastard. His loyalty once would have trembled under my glare. Perhaps I’d grown too soft in recent turns. Perhaps I needed to get out to sea. Perhaps a feckless sea singer might attempt to lure in an earth fae and I would, at last, have an excuse to slaughter someone.

“Erik.” My cousin stood in front of me, arms filled with brown burlap sacks tied in twine in his arms.

“Gods, you too?”

Tait’s eyes were not as sharply crimson as mine, but they still burned like blood when heat filled his face.

My cousin leaned in, voice low. “I dare you to try to talk her out of planning a revel. It’s terrifying.”

“You should be the one to contain her,” I snapped back.

He laughed and shook his head, like I was some pitiful creature.

Once the stampede of fae left me with a touch of unspoken relief (one I would never admit), I watched as Mira took charge, jovially shouting orders about proper places of things, where Jul logs ought to be placed, where folk would sit, down to what time the feast ought to be served.

I jolted when a gentle touch teased the scars on the back of my neck. One corner of my mouth lifted when my heart spoke instead of my words. Songbird.

Serpent.

You are supposed to be sleeping.

Livia stepped in front of me, one brow arched, a soft linen bundle cradled in one arm. “I don’t remember what sleep is anymore.” She followed the sounds of chaos coming from the great hall. “I see you’ve been defeated.”

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to Livia’s brow. “Did you tell Alistair to send word?”

“No.” She chuckled, slowly swaying side to side. “I only received the missive this morning that Mir heard you were overwhelmed and would be arriving early.”

“I do not get overwhelmed, love. I get murderous.”

Livia snorted. “Let’s keep bloodshed at a minimum for her first Jul.”

I held out my arms, embracing the burst of warmth in my chest when Livia handed over my daughter. Never did I expect to love anything like I loved my songbird, but Katla filled another piece of my cruel heart I was certain formed just for her alone.

In the five months since she was born, Kat had grown a full head of dark hair, revealed she had a curious shade of lavender for her eyes, and had the soft brown of her mother’s skin. She laughed, cooed, smiled, and took great pleasure in tugging at the gold rings in my ears every day.

There was only one problem.

“Why is it she only sleeps while being held?” I whispered, glancing at Livia, who’d already dropped her head to my shoulder as though she might fall asleep standing up.

She snickered. “Because she is born of two stubborn households and because her father appeases her every whim.” She pinched my side.

“I can’t seem to refuse her mother either.”

“Hmm. The night I came to the Ever, I believe I shouted no plenty of times, Bloodsinger.”

“I don’t think that’s right, love.” I tilted my head and nipped at her ear. “You practically leapt into the sea with me.”

“Ah, is that what happened?” Livia traced the point of one of my ears with her finger. “Silly me, I could’ve sworn I was tossed into the sea, hands bound.”

“Must be the sleepless nights making you forgetful.”

She laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. “Thank you, for trying to bring Jul to me. I wasn’t certain I was up for such a journey again.”

We’d only returned from the earth realms two months prior, after introducing Katla to the earth fae royals and Alver clans.

“Afraid I was bound to fail, love.” I tipped my head toward the great hall. “Others thought so too since contingency plans were in place—or treason depending on how violent you’re feeling. I have been removed from the festivity planning.”

Livia curled an arm around my waist and tugged me against her. “It’s the thought, Serpent. It’s the thought.”

Doors crashed open again.

“Katla!” Rorik Ferus and his squeaky, ever-changing voice shattered the calm. “Your uncle is finally here! Where is she?”

Katla squirmed in my arms, face scrunched, until a loud cry split from her little chest.

Livia’s shoulders slumped and she glared at her brother. “Rorik, you bleeding woke her up.”

“Good.” The young prince was already taller than his sister, and shoved through us both, a replica of his father from the shade of his hair to the darkness of his eyes. “I want her to be awake anyway. Here, move, I’ll take her. I’ll take her.”

Before I could even protest, Rorik dug my daughter from my arms, making exaggerated faces at the babe until her tears fled and she returned a gummy grin. Once, Rorik spent his time in the Ever trying to impress me. The instant his niece was born, I was but a forgotten memory. Now, his world revolved around future plans of corrupting the girl and sailing every bleeding cove from the Ever to the Northern Peaks in the earth realms.

A heavy hand clapped on my shoulder.

“God Jul, Erik.” Valen grinned, then pulled Livia into an embrace once Elise released her.

“You’re here,” my songbird said, a bit of relief in her voice.

I knew she missed her folk, certainly during festive times, and if I could see the light of joy in her eyes every day, I’d serve a thousand Jul feasts.

“We made it. All of us.” Valen gestured toward the door.

Gods. Everyone arrived at the same bleeding time.

“Bloodsinger! What rooms have you arranged for me? I demand the finest bed. I am a king now.” Jonas led the way, Skadi’s hand in his. He was still a pompous fool, but I’d likely never admit how much I enjoyed the bastard’s company.

“Skadi.” Livia embraced the elven queen. “You’re almost there.”

True enough, it wouldn’t be long until the couple would be living with as little sleep as me and my songbird.

Skadi pressed a hand to her growing belly. “Almost. I’m not certain who is more thrilled, Jonas or the Kryv.”

“Us, lovey,” said Raum as he trudged past with more elven folk. “It’s about time we got us a new Kryv.”

Jonas’s folk strode past, a mixture of elven and alvers, thieves and smugglers. His mother embraced us both, then fell into conversation with Elise. Jonas’s father gave me a nod—an acknowledgement I’d long ago learned was a warm greeting from the alver king—squeezed Livia’s hand, then promptly went to Rorik, demanding he get a chance to hold Katla.

“Sander will be coming soon,” Skadi said.

I let out a sigh. And with him, he’d bring more hoards of folk from his mate’s house. It was the same with everyone. Since I took Livia, fell in love with her, made her my queen, the lot of us had found mates, homes, more folk to call family.

But we always ended here together. And it was chaos.

“Bloodsinger.” The fate queen from the earth realms entered the corridor.

Over the turns, every earth fae royal house took on sea fae. They were part of Livia, and somehow they forgave me, and became part of me.

Behind the queen was her stoic king, the scar on his face one of my many memories of the war. Silas saved Tait and Gavyn during the battles between our realms. He was a man who did not speak much, but I related to that.

And the way he looked down at their busy, young daughter with pride. I understood that a great deal too.

“Queen.” I dipped my chin.

Calista was a blood cousin of Mira, and there were moments when both shared the same look of mischief. But where Mira was boisterous and invasive, Calista was cunning and damn near devious.

“I saw this once.” She stepped aside when Mira’s folk collided with the alver clans and both Mira’s father and the alver king became embroiled in a debate on who had gone softer as a king since both desired a chance to see my daughter.

“Saw what? Madness in the Ever?”

Calista chuckled. “In a way. It was fleeting, just a brief moment I wasn’t certain was even real. But it was enough to make me think there was more to you. Do you remember when we spoke, after you saved my Lump’s Torsten?”

My teeth ground together. “Aye.”

“Remember what I said to you?”

I’d never forget it. “Your story is only beginning. Take care with the hearts you claim.”

A gentle smile crossed over Calista’s mouth. “I saw a glimpse of a future. Livia’s heart as yours, all our folk stitched together in a new path of fate that led to Jul revels, endless Haunts with new earth fae and sea fae littles. I saw laughter and unity. Somehow, in such a small glimpse of fate, I knew you would come to be in a moment as this. Part of our threads in the tapestry of our tales.”

With a squeeze to my arm, Calista left me to help Silas catch their girl before she bolted straight for one of the endless cakes Mira was directing toward the long tables.

“What was all that about with Cal?” Livia slipped her palm around my arm.

I lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Reminiscing, Songbird.”

She grinned. “What is your conclusion?”

“Of what?”

“Shall we ever host Jul again?”

I scoffed. “Send me to Murdock or Blister Poppy to have my damn skull checked if ever I offer to play pleasant host again.”

Livia’s eyes gleamed like the richest tides. “Ready for this?”

“Aye, love.”

We stood in the doorway. Together, for a breath, we studied the comradery. Gavyn and Sewell taunted something Jonas and Rorik said. The twins’ mother held Katla next to Narza and Maelstrom. Tait leaned against the wall, drinking with Mira’s father and Aleksi. Elise and Valen sat across from Tavish and two of his children, laughing as my uncle’s young ones gawked at one small axes the earth bender brought as Jul gifts.

“This is all I wanted, Serpent,” Livia whispered. “A life with you and them, and . . . all of us.”

I kissed the side of her neck and whispered through our heartbond before we stepped into the hall. For a thousand more turns, love.

Livia’s lip curled in a playful sort of smirk. No. Much longer.

*****

God Jul Wicked Darlings!