Page 57 of Crowned By the Fae King

"And I did?" I asked in a quiet voice.

He hesitated, then nodded. "I was taught that, in many ways, the body is a mediator for the soul. Most magic affects the body first. Even very powerful mages who can affect the metaphysical generally act via the body's mediation, not directly." Cass took a deep breath. "You wanted to send me your thoughts, but what happened on the physical level is that you caused my brain to hallucinate your voice as if it was my own doing. If I was anything other than what I am, I don't think I would have noticed how you did it, but…" He swallowed, his throat bobbing. "Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. It felt violating."

I closed my eyes, trying not to start shaking. "I'm sorry," I said again, the words feeling pathetic.

"Quyen," Cass said gently. When I made myself open my eyes, he gave me a sad smile. "You don't need to apologize. I'm doing the same thing to you constantly, on a much greater scale. I was simply…" He sighed, looking away. "…shocked," he said, the word almost inaudible, "and terrified of the ramifications. Of what I might not have seen happen to me, and what it meant for what we might become. But you didn't do that to me, and I regret jumping to that conclusion."

The cold horror gripping me started easing away. I took a careful seat on the couch across from him, the mist of my dress pooling in pale silk on the seat to fall in silvery streamers down to the floor. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why do you trust that I'm telling the truth? I'm human. I could theoretically lie to you. I'm not, but I could."

He tapped his foot on the floor. "The Court can tell if you're lying. It's part of you, and unlike you, it's faery."

I blinked at that. "Oh."

"I have a good physical read on you, too, and mortals in general," he added, sounding rueful about it. "Even without the Court being linked to us both, I have a fairly accurate ability to tell when a mortal is lying, as long as I have some prior experience with them. You're not lying, and I know that beyond any reasonable doubt. You haven't been controlling my thoughts."

Neither of those reasons were as good as simply being trusted, but I didn't blame him for wanting verification when I could be mucking about in his memories. He'd only known me for six days, and most of that time we hadn't gotten to spend actually getting to know each other.

"No, I haven't," I said softly, nausea twisting my gut at the very idea.

Cass tilted his head back and sighed. "I suppose you have a direct connection to my soul, past any of my physical defenses. I'm not used to being vulnerable like that. It scared me."

I let out a heavy breath, the tension leaving my shoulders. "What do you want me to do about it?" I asked. "I think we have an answer for what six weeks in the wilderness did to me. I'm assuming telepathy isn't a normal soulmate thing."

"Not so much, no," Cass said with a wry expression. He shook his head, the earrings swinging and ruby drops catching the light. I liked that Vaduin had matched us, even though the night was ending like this. "Give me a few days to get used to the idea of it?" he suggested. "What you could do to me is difficult for me to be comfortable with, even though I could surely do worse to you. If it's only with me, I don't think you're a mage, but we're clearly going to be an unusual pairing. I think I don't mind you listening in, but don't reach back, alright? At least for now."

What a strange place for two people to be. A man used to being both an unstoppable force and immovable object, now faced with someone who might be able to play as his equal—but only with him. Maybe Danica was right, and the fact that everything about his life was already shaken up would help us figure out how to settle ourselves together. With the Court to blame, his vulnerability didn't even have to be my fault. It could be something we handled together.

"Are the notes okay?" I asked. He only raised a brow, so I said, "You know, the skin-writing." I demonstrated on myself, tracing T-H-I-S on my forearm. "Or feather-writing, I guess, since you could feel that, too. I think I must be interacting with your aura when I touch them."

His mouth slanted up. "That's fine. More than fine, actually." Cass breathed a laugh, his expression upgrading to a true smile, albeit a tired one. "I very much enjoy the sensation of you focusing on me, and the notes help me feel comfortable about having my attention on you, too. I…" he hesitated, then forged on. "I like physical contact a great deal when it's mutually pleasurable, and mutually desired. What we have isn't exactly the same, but it's similar enough that as long as I can believe that you're finding pleasure in the touch of my magic, I'll surely enjoy sharing that with you."

"I like it," I said shyly. I bit my lip for a second, the frisson of nervousness at admitting something like that an unusual sensation for me. This seemed important, though. Critical, even. "It was strange at first, but mostly because I didn't know what was going on or who you were. But I know who you are, now, and you know I exist. So it's nice." I laughed, blushing, more of an anxious reflex than anything else. I hadn't been this nervous asking out my first crush. "Honestly, it was even kind of nice in the wilderness. I wasn't ever alone out there."

"Nice is good," Cass said, smiling at me. He rested his forearms on his thighs, leaning forward. "Generally, the kindest reaction I get to people experiencing being linked to me is that it's weird and off-putting, but not actively unpleasant most of the time."

I flashed him my teeth. "The only time it was actively unpleasant was when you flinched me right off a cliff."

Cass winced, his wings coming up. "Ah. That's unfortunate."

"It was a small cliff, if that helps," I said in a playfully-soothing voice, like I was talking to a dog who'd just run into a glass door for the umpteenth time. "You healed the sprained ankle and scrapes right up, too. Very thoughtlessly thoughtful."

He made a face at me. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"I am," I said with an easy smile. "Might as well try to take the edge off that guilt you're carrying around. Someone told me not to let myself be consumed by guilt for things I couldn't control, and I'm hoping he'll take his own advice."

"Rude," Cass said, though his expression warmed, the corners of his eyes lifting and a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Very." After a moment, I asked, "Did you send Kat away? My assistant, I mean."

"Only to the consort's room." He stood and stretched, spreading his wings to their full extent, which was possibly the only benefit to having a room this big. The movement dragged the chains across his body, the rubies set into the metal catching the light. "I can send her in for you." Cass folded his wings down again, the metal feathers chiming. "I truly appreciate how much forbearance you're giving me. None of this is particularly easy for me, but I still should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I'll try to see you past my fear the next time something shocking surely happens."

It wasn't quite an apology, but he was fae. This was probably as close as they got for minor offenses. When it came down to it, an admission of guilt like that was the same thing, anyway, only worded more delicately.

"You're forgiven," I said with a smile, getting a drop-eared look of relieved yearning in reply. Longing shivered through my bones, tightening my ribs and speeding the pace of my heart. "Come say goodnight when you're ready for bed?"

"As you like," he said, sounding shy.

It didn't take long for Kat to get me ready for bed once Cass sent her back in. The dress, after all, was actually three pieces of jewelry, and the rubies had a simple clasp. Most of the work was washing the makeup off my face and the ink off my back, and even that didn't take that long.

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