Page 17 of A Bear in a Birdbath

“Eva?” he finally asked, when she seemed incapable of continuing.

She closed her eyes and seemed to gather herself. “I’ll show you,” she said, lifting her hands to the buttons of her shirt. She unbuttoned it gradually and slipped it from her shoulders. Margo gave a little noise of appreciation as her slight curves were revealed, barely encased in a thin white bra and if Bruno hadn’t already been fully aroused, nothing could have stopped him then. Margo was close enough to his side that he could feel the warmth off of her, and it was like knowing a multi-course meal was waiting for him.

Eva reached behind herself and slipped the bra off, then turned so that her bare back was to them.

There were two jagged, angry scars from the outside of each shoulder blade to her waist. They looked fresh, painful and red, barely past scabs.

Beside him, Margo gave a gasp of horror, and Bruno remembered how he had pulled Eva close, not knowing she was so injured. Had he hurt her when they kissed?

Squooshes? his cave bear said in consternation.

“Who did this to you?” Margo snarled.

15

EVA

Eva had known this moment was inevitable.

She would have to reveal her shame to them at some point, and Margo’s words of truth and trust rang in her head.

“I will make them pay,” Bruno growled, following Margo’s outraged exclamation, and Eva wanted to weep a little at their anger and protectiveness.

Then Margo’s fingers were at her shoulder, tracing down the hateful, raw scars. “Who did this?” she repeated. Eva couldn’t understand how her fingers could be so gentle when her voice was so hard.

Bruno’s hand was on her opposite shoulder, though he didn’t offer to touch the wounds.

“Tell me,” he commanded. “Us,” he corrected himself immediately. “Tell us.”

Had she ruined their moment, spoiled the blooming joy? But she knew the expectations of their retreat to Bruno’s apartment, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to satisfy their bond without exposing her back and all of the questions it would raise.

“I did this,” she said, so quietly that she feared they wouldn’t hear her. “To escape the Queen of Faery.”

She needn’t have worried. Shifters had keen hearing, and so, apparently, did half-trolls.

“The Queen of Faery?” Margo asked. “You were her prisoner?”

“Let me kill her for you,” Bruno suggested.

“Let me kill her for you,” Margo countered.

Eva hadn’t expected their first fight to be over who got to kill someone for her, but it surprised a wry chuckle from her lips before she turned to look bravely up at both of them. “It isn’t a pretty story,” she cautioned them, “and I am not the hero of the tale.”

“Nothing you reveal could change how I feel for you,” Margo said swiftly. “Your past is in the past.”

Bruno growled in agreement.

Eva drew a deep breath, taking courage from the strength and the warmth of her mates beside her. “I was the Queen of Faery’s courtesan. Her favorite, for a while. I was her dressmaker, and her lover. But she was…very jealous.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Margo growled. “But we won’t love you any less, no matter what happened.”

“You’re safe here,” Bruno added.

Eva looked from one of them to the other. She trusted them, and she wanted them to know the truth.

“I was flattered by her attention, and proud of my talent with fashion. I was happy for her advances, and went willingly to her bed. But sh-she was not satisfied with my affection and my obedience. She wanted all of me, and she enspelled me. I didn’t realize at first, because it was slow and insidious, but she forced me to love her, to adore only her, to see only her. I couldn’t think without thinking of her, couldn’t breathe without wanting her air. I don’t think she meant to hurt me, but it crushed me, crushed the life and soul out of me. I couldn’t create; there was no room for beauty that wasn’t hers, and I made dresses that were uglier and uglier without meaning to.”

Eva spread her fingers and looked at them. “I thought it was a flaw in my magic, that I was not worthy, and in a fit of failure when she was away and I could not bear it, I tore my wings from my back and lost the part of me that was Faery. Destroying my own magic broke her spell. I s-saw for the first time what she’d done to me, and I fled Faery.”

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