Page 90 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, raising it to her nose and inhaling deeply.

“It pales in comparison to you,” I tell her, stroking my knuckles across the soft skin of her cheek. “Come on, let me show you the rest.”

She laughs as I tug her up the stone steps to the towering doors of the inn, pulling one open and loving the way she gasps as she sees the interior.

The wooden floors gleam, a blond color that soaks up the multi-colored light streaming in from the windows. Luxurious furniture’s arranged in comfortable groupings, and there are two stone fireplaces on either side of the grand room.

A long white table stretches down the middle of the room, with enough seats for half a hundred guests to take their meals.

Wren’s speechless, a stunned look on her face as she takes it all in. Her jaw drops as she looks up, taking in the high ceilings and white stone rafters, the gleaming chandeliers and the fresh flowers.

“I grew up in magic, with magic all around, and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I understand the feeling,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and watching her touch everything, her own witch’s magic probing each new piece she finds.

“Show me the rest,” she demands, and I bow deeply, making her laugh.

“As if I could tell you no,” I tell her, kissing her temple.

Wren frowns adorably at that. “You can always tell me no.”

“As if I didn’t know that,” I agree, and she rolls her eyes, grinning before her mouth twists to the side again.

“What?” I scrutinize her face.

“I need to… say something.”

I tilt my head, waiting.

She nibbles her lower lip, and I groan. “When you do that, it makes me want to splay you out on this table and taste you all over.”

Her brow furrows further.

Perhaps that was not the right thing to say.

I pull her into my arms, my heart hammering, sudden terror gripping me at whatever it is she’s going to announce.

“I know I’m your mate, right?”

“Of course. I’m horrified you’re even questioning it,” I declare dramatically.

That, at least, makes her smile, chasing away the thunderstorm in her eyes. “I care about you, a lot. Already. But?—”

My stomach falls, and I hardly dare draw breath.

“But I’m worried it might take me longer to feel the way you do, and I don’t want you to be sad. Or decide I’m not worth it. Or decide waiting for me to give you my whole heart is taking too long. I don’t want you to resent me.”

It’s my turn to stare, slack-jawed, at her.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, her hands fiddling with the ratty leather satchel she takes everywhere. “I don’t want to hurt you?—”

My fingers grip her chin, forcing her to look up at me. Her eyes brim with tears and I bend down, kissing her lashes and tasting salt on them.

“I will give you as much time as you need, my Wren, my golden witch. Simply sharing the same air with you is a gift. I don’t need you to give me your heart all at once. I will savor every piece, every moment you deign me worthy of. I’ve waited for you a hundred years, two hundred… I’ll enjoy pursuing you every minute you allow it.”

“But—”

My mouth closes over hers, and I decide I can’t wait until this evening to do what I want with her.

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