Lavender, p.1
Lavender, page 1
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Fiction
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
LAVENDER
~
Sons of the Deveaux
Book I
Sarah McCreight
CHAPTER ONE
LILLITH
I can’t breathe properly. The air in my lungs feels cramped, the tightness in my chest won’t ease. Am I going to die? My hands are sore from the white-knuckled grip I have on my robe. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Don’t make me do this.
With every step Lillith took, guided by her father over smooth marble floors, dread grew within her like vines, sprouting thorns and twisting tightly around her heart. They latched on to soft tissue and pierced deeply, infecting her with anxiety and panic.
For years, they had been hidden away. Kept from the world and raised by a monster. Where nobody could come and save them. Nobody would hear their screams and come to the rescue. Not even their own mother had been safe.
The robes that she wore daily felt like they clung to her smaller body, suffocating any air that tried to reach her. The one remaining wing she still had was strapped to her back to prevent any unsightly movement that would give away her inner turmoil in a flutter.
I don’t want this. Please, somebody stop it. Please.
Her lips trembled. Hidden eyes watered and heavy tears ran down her cheeks, soaking into the fabric that hid away her face. Her father’s hand gripped her arm too tightly as if he could sense her fight or flight urge kicking in.
The grip turned bruising as he led her further away from the safety of her sisters and towards somewhere unknown. Someone unknown. Had Lillith gotten the chance, she would have taken off running regardless of the punishment that would come in the aftermath.
Though her inner panic overshadowed almost everything else in her head, Lillith could hear other voices the closer they came.
The soft voice was deceptively gentle, a male rumble she felt sink under her bones and had her spine turn a little straighter.
"Are the veils necessary?"
Lillith swallowed through a dry throat, her tongue like lead in her patched mouth.
They wanted to remove it? She dragged in another hard-won breath through her nose from beneath clammy fabric. It would ruin everything her father strived towards. Nobody would want a second look at her if they took it off.
Their father made his daughters out to be untouched creatures. The fairest of them all. Fairies of the rarest abilities, the strongest connections to Mother Nature herself that nothing had corrupted in how wicked the realms had become.
Certainly not the broken little thing he was pushing forward right now towards an unknown future and unknown demons who would do as they pleased with her. Who would put hands on her or worse. Who very well might use and abuse her as some kind of toy to play with.
Marcus chuckled, the noise having Lilly take in an unsteady inhale again. "It’s for their own safety of course. If anyone were to see their faces, they’d be targeted. And I couldn’t have that happen to my precious daughters. They’re the light of my life." How easily lying came to their father. It made her stomach churn thinking of what else he’d told these strangers.
The promises he’d made to them. Sworn to them she would do as if they were his to bargain with.
"And yet here you are, handing one over so easily." The first man spoke again, his tone giving nothing away. No inflexion of emotion, no interest or condemnation. Simply stating a fact they were all aware of.
Marcus Evergreen carried the term father from them, but the reality was, the Fae cared amazingly little for anyone. Not his family and not the realm. Had this not been a tradition, he never would have married them off, probably opting for herself and her sisters to be bred until their dying day. Popping out soldiers to add to his collection instead. To be of use to the crown, as he always said.
Incubators made to produce more of their own kind, made to aim, however unrealistically, to birth females and let the cycle continue.
This was nothing more than a transaction from one owner to the next.
She was trussed up like a gift to be unwrapped, dressed in white to announce her purity and delivered into the hands of devils whom she had only ever been told horrible stories about– and expected to be a wife. To be obedient and dutiful.
To do her duty to her people and make others happy while forgetting all about who she was. Who she could be. Expected to do nothing more than to sit pretty and watch the world keep turning while she endures more of what life gave her.
Her father’s hand tightened on her arm gripping so hard it squeezed a muffled noise from her she tried so hard to smother, teeth gritting together. She felt too fragile for this.
Like a crystal vase balancing on the edge of a table. She wasn’t strong like Genevieve. Wasn’t optimistic like Mirabell. Lilly had always been the type to hide away inside her mind, to find a safe space in her memories and stay there instead.
But right now, there was no safe space. Just the harsh reality of what was coming for her.
"Your family are the ones who forced these traditions and we have upheld them dutifully. Be thankful I’m parting with even one of my wonderful daughters. Lillith is near her Bloom. She’ll produce some fine offspring I’m sure.”
Bile rose at the back of her throat with nowhere to go but back down. The fairy ignored the implication in his voice that was just for her ears alone. The threat that lay behind it made itself known. Lillith was to be married into the house of the most historical family within the Demon Realm.
Serpentine. House of the Scaled and Fanged.
Royal family of the Hell realm.
A tradition held between all realms to keep a peace brokered lifetimes ago that had stopped the war from ravaging the realms and one insignificant fairy’s opinion on the matter was not going to stop anyone.
What had been confusing was the fact she was a middle child. From what she had known of tradition, the eldest typically took the spot of the initial offering, but no such thing had been asked of them. She had been named specifically.
Everybody knew the story, the bargain was made lifetimes ago. When the Life Tree stopped glowing with vitality and monsters of all deranged shapes and sizes crawled from its roots instead of wonderment. Tainting the ground and poisoning the world around them.
The realms had fallen into dismay. Decay had swept over half the Fae realm before the ghouls were beaten back. When the beasts of the shifter realm came forward and devils in Hell spilt over to fight, bargains were made. Deals were struck. And the Devil himself made sure to benefit best from it all.
The beasts of the shifter realm wanted a trade deal. Enchantments. Magic that didn’t come so easily to the animal kind that fairies had in abundance given to them in return for keeping the forests clear.
The Devil wanted daughters in return for their sons.
Demons had a knack for violence, a need for it. They had taken to creating a hard-kept seal around the Life Tree, hunting down the disgusting creatures and ghouls that sprung forward. Relished in the fighting and left others in their debt.
The daughters now to be handed over, were the crown’s own.
Or in her case, to the youngest twins of the Serpentine house.
The tension within the space felt as though it skyrocketed, the fairy sensing the unease from the ground itself and up through her feet. Small plants around her sent their warning though it was weak and muted through the tile.
Her trembling increased, a fine shimmy wracking her body she tried so hard to control.
Their father thought to outsmart the bargain, thought he was getting one over on the family that protected the realms so thoroughly by giving them a broken fairy. A dud. A weak little bug that should do nothing more than wither and die.
They were too weak right now. Having sunlight rationed just enough to keep the three of them alive and well, to prevent sickness that would soil their worth. Not enough to have any fight back against their father’s cruel and demeaning punishments.
"I’ll take her from here."
If warmth had a sound, it was that voice. Like sinking into hot water and letting it envelop you to the bone. So deep a rumble she felt it to her core. Goosebumps rose to her skin from head to toe. The noise in her brain was silenced in one sentence, the fairy unable to do anything but wait for something more said.
As her father’s hand released her forearm, a warm hand took her smaller one, wrapping around it entirely. From the grip alone, Lilly could tell there was quite the size difference going on. Her fathers hands were smaller than this male. Warmth practically radiated through her fingers and palms, like dipping them into a warm bath as you tested the heat. It wormed its way up her arm.
The rapid beat of her heart tripled, banging so loudly against her ribs she feared they might break open. Could they hear it as well? Could they feel the fear that was suffocating her? Lillith felt a fine trickle of sweat run down her spine.
"Father, please, maybe we should rethink this."
Their father wouldn’t take this lightly, not embarrassing him in front of these men.
Not now. Don’t do this Eve.
"You’ll speak when spoken to Geneieve." The reprimand was sharp, unpleasant. "Some girls never know when to keep their mouth shut, unlike my Lillith." The smugness in his voice churned her stomach.
"But father, surely we could—"
"When spoken to, Genevieve!"
A sharp slap rang out, the sound of limbs clattering to the floor, clothes flapping and a sharp pained gasp.
“You have to use a firm hand with them, otherwise my girls would run riot. Guards. Show my eldest to her room for now.”
Lillith knew that tone. The strained politeness that veiled over malice and violent intent. She was supposed to leave her sisters behind in a place like this. If he locked Eve away, there would be nobody left to protect Mirabell.
She was the youngest, the perfect princess of the trio as far as their father was concerned. She couldn’t stay here alone. With nobody to protect her? With nobody to soothe her when the nightmares came or to hide her when so called suitors strode in with their rough hands and self absorbed attitude.
The mere memory made Lillith want to curl into a ball and disappear at the life they had been given. The unfairness forced on all three of them.
"No! You can’t put me there, I won’t– Stop, I–” There were tears in her sister’s voice the further away it went, panic and fear. With good reason. Disrespecting their piece of shit father in front of others like this would have terrible consequences.
A hiccuped breath squeezed painfully past Lillith’s lips sending a sting zapping through her mouth she tried to smother by biting the inside of her gums.
"Ignore her tantrum. Genevieve can be a little emotional at times." The words from their father sounded forced through his teeth. His patience was wearing thin and her sister had just embarrassed him in front of company. Lillith was sick with the thoughts of what Genevieve was about to face.
The warm hand that held her own gave a gentle squeeze as if to reassure her, a thumb rubbing over her knuckles almost absentmindedly, but she knew better than to fall for it.
Kindness right now was the last thing she expected, or perhaps it was just a lull.
A hunter to its prey, letting them feel safe until the claws and teeth sank in. A net to catch a butterfly and pin its wings to a board in sadistic pleasure.
"You have an interesting way with your daughters. For the merciful King of Fae." The empty, inflectionless voice again.
Such a bland tone was a struggle when the sisters had spent their lives trying to sense by the inflection of others voices, to read between the lines when their vision was obscured by the thick veils that covered their faces. They had survived this far just by listening alone.
"Gather whatever things it is you wish to bring to our home with you. We go in ten minutes now the viewing has been done.”
The viewing. Like she was a cow at a show and they’d decided they liked her stock.
“I have some other business to discuss before we leave. Orian, escort Lillith to her room. If another guard puts a hand on her, feel free to remove a limb from their bodies. You can choose which. Maybe even both if it proves to be the more fun option.”
Was that her promised husband? Or at least one of them? It was too hard to tell behind the veil.
Her father had made sure to go into detail about what would happen to her, being shared between two demons in a bid to drive her fears sky high.
How she’d break the first time they used her. How she would scream while they mocked her. How her pleas and cries would go ignored as they took what they wanted from her. Her power, her innocence, her blood.
Lillith could only make assumptions from beneath her veil, driving herself a little crazy in the visually depraved world. The cover on her face may as well have been metal bars for how imprisoned it made her feel.
As if one demon wasn’t enough for her to contend with, the fairy had no idea what she would do with two.
ORIAN
She was tiny. Really fucking tiny.
This little petite fairy that barely reached his chest and shook so badly her teeth should be chattering was supposed to be his wife? Supposed to sit on a throne beside him in the pits of Hell? She might not even last the trip home from the trembling state of her. The scent of her fear was a sharp lemongrass perfume to his senses.
Covered head to toe in white silk drapes that held no real shape, like a white curtain wrapped around her obscuring everything. A head wrap and veil really completed the look, given nobody had seen the Fae princesses outside of the castle that they knew of. Anyone passing by would have thought them to be covered saintess rather than royalty and treated as such. Untested and untried by the realm around them.
He had no idea what she could possibly look like beneath there. Blonde, brunette. Maybe a spicy red head even. A tick worked in his jaw as it clenched. Maybe his twin was right and this was a ridiculous waste of time.
Traditions that were so long standing needed to be questioned after a while. Although, he supposed in comparison, himself and Lennox were the lesser of two evils.
Or four, given his brothers.
When push came to shove, the realms would be allied by marriage one way or another once again. The bargain was decided and there would be no deviation.
Rejection wasn’t an option. Denial wasn’t an option.
Then again, Marcus Evergreen was not the kind of King you made deals with or accepted daughters from as brides. He was a psycho with pointed ears and several missing fucking screws. A cookie short of a fucking packet.
As they walked through the estate, Orian gaped around himself. Compared to home, this place felt like it was set back in the times of horse drawn carriages and people demanding to duel one another. Like a fairytale for the ages brought to life while missing the sparkle and joy it inspired.
Knights and dragons that saved maidens from towers wouldn’t be found here.
There was going to be some amount of culture shock when that veil came off and she saw what Hell looks like. What it was like to share technologies between themselves and the beast realm. The leaps and bounds everyone else had made while the Fae stood still through time.
Even leading her from the room, candles lit the halls that were nothing but white marble, not a bulb seen in sight. Melted wax that had dripped over time and would be used until they burned out.
The place felt like a gods-damn mausoleum. No sense of personality, nothing to say it was a family home. It was clinical. Empty.
There was no warmth. No pictures or paintings on the walls, no sign of life despite the Fae claiming to be all about nature and green growth around them. Where were their shrines to Mother Nature? Where were the blooming flowers and floral wonderment that they’d expected to cover this place from head to toe?
