Page 237 of Fallen Nocturne

I watch her cross the beach toward the water. There is grace in every step despite all the wounds she still carries, and strength in the way she refuses to let suffering harden her.

“She’s right, you know.”

I jump and spin around.

Blight is standing beside me, having appeared out of nowhere as she always does. The little trickster goddess wears a smile that promises mischief.

“Blight,” I say warily. “What are you doing here? Were you eavesdropping?”

“Absolutely.” She grins. When she shifts her weight, I notice the dark imprint around her ankle. The Fae King’s handprint remains burned into her skin, the mark refusing to heal completely.

“What do you want?” I ask, already exhausted.

“Nothing. I was merely confirming something,” Blight says, rolling a smooth white stone between her fingers. She ducks slightly behind a flowering bush and peers toward Rhianelle. “I guess Rhianelle truly doesn’t want children.”

My gaze drops to the stone. “What are you scheming?”

“Nothing.” Blight straightens. “You can relax, vampire. I no longer need to make you swallow this.”

She tosses the stone over her shoulder. It arcs through the air and disappears into the sea with a tiny splash.

I go very still. “What do you mean, make me swallow it?”

“It was a fertility stone,” she explains calmly. “One of several methods that might allow a vampire to sire a child.”

My mouth falls open.

Blight lifts one finger. “Another required burying you naked beneath a flowering moon tree for three nights. The last involved borrowing certain parts from a living phoenix, but the phoenixes were being difficult.”

I stare at her.

Blight tilts her head. “If Rhianelle wanted a child, the Un would move worlds to make certain she received one.”

What the fuck?

For several seconds, I cannot form a single word. My mind fills with images of Blight chasing a phoenix with a knife.

“Whatever dark, mischievous thing you were planning, no,” I say firmly. “We do not want it. Leave us alone.”

“Yes, I heard Rhianelle. I’m not deaf.” Blight rolls her eyes. “Her decision will be respected.”

“Blight…”

“Good talk,” she says cheerfully. Then she dissolves into shadow and vanishes as quickly as she appeared.

A fucking fertility stone?

She claims she will respect Rhianelle’s decision, but I do not trust Blight. I would sooner trust Coral alone inside a chicken coop.

“Gods help me,” I mutter to the empty air.

I’m wearing protection from now on. No matter how much Rhianelle pouts, protests, or tries to convince me otherwise. I am never fucking her raw again.

A delighted shriek carries across the beach.

I turn toward the water. Coral has plunged headfirst into the shallows and is snapping playfully at Kiiska’s fins while Kae’ko circles them, sending waves rolling toward the shore. Rhianelle stands knee-deep in the sea, laughing as she tries to coax Coral away from the much larger seadragons.

She notices me watching and waves both arms.