#MidWeekTease Winter's Embrace #paranormal

Hello teasers and teasees! I'm working through edits on two pieces that will be in boxed sets early in the new year. This one is from a faerie story. I hope you like it!

Verte stood among her brothers and sisters. Each held their power ready, regarding the enemies facing them. Between them and the monochromatic Winter fae were her father and Mab, Queen of Winter. Verte knew Bruno, wept for him when he was found, dead on Summer soil with a Winter dagger melting away in his back. Bruno wasn't one of her half-brothers, heir of Summer, but he was family.
The attack Summer launched and the defence Winter mounted created the worst clash between the faeries in eternal memory. The two had never been friendly and tensions constantly rose and waned as season after season passed and power shifted between them. The Winter faerie's unexplained death ended the peaceful opposition. Winter sought retribution on Bruno, her mate, which led to this—her father and Mab brokering a truce.

Rumours were that these grey fae were Mab's children, but how one fae could bear so many baffled Verte. They ranged from deep, dark soot color, much like the completely black Mab, to one female who seemed pure white. The starkness of their line was so different from the riot of color in Summer. Verte had brilliant green hair with streaks of brown like branches. Her skin was the green-brown of a flush twig about to burst into full leaf. Her brothers ranged from Russo's red-brown skin and rusty hair to Aurum's brilliant yellow, rivalling Goldenrod, his sister, behind him. They were full siblings, as Verte was with Folio and Oliver. Both ignored her, focusing on their father and the Winter fae.
Rushing murmurs came from both sides as the monarchs bowed their heads to one another before returning to their armies.
“Done.” Tristan turned back toward his faeries. “I have need of volunteer from among my daughters.”
Verte looked to Goldenrod, Rose, and Violet. She was the oldest of them. Seeing fear in their eyes, she stepped forward.
“How can I be of use, Father?”
“Verte, always true,” he said, his large hand, the color and texture of centuries old bark cupping her cheek. His hair curled like moss on a stump. “I need you to be the sign of our truce. They lost a daughter to one of our sons. In exchange for peace, you will wed one of theirs.”
Her brothers clamoured and argued with him, angry at this turn of events. Her stomach twisted in a knot. Marry one of those colorless fae? Embrace Winter? Unlike humans, unions among faeries were eternal. She couldn't put him aside when she tired of him, or vice versa. Her father asked the impossible. And yet, it seemed the impossible—peace—was exactly what they needed.
Speaking loudly and clearly to be heard over her brothers, Verte said, “I can do this, but I can never be Winter.”

Verte is true and feisty! Hop around to all the other teases!