Page 55 of How to Keep a Fae

But my mother likewise came to the same conclusion about what the words meant, and she has years and wisdom over me.

It is strange how a single moment—a single meeting—can shatter long-held truths and reveal them as lies. I always imagined the imperials held and wielded the illusive power, had leave to mate and love and make decisions on such things.

They do not. Now, I see them as simply different kinds of cogs. All pathways lead back to the chosen, the immortals who rule us all.

“Adaline!” Denna’s stern hail rouses me from my musings.

It also brings an unwitting smile to my lips. Would I even know what to do with a softer version of my mother?

Probably not.

“Adaline!”

I jump up and rush to thrust open the door covering. Dede has the room across from me. She offers me a small, tight smile. We hope for the same thing: that the warriors are returned safe from the patrol and that their injuries are minor at worst.

The warrior at the front steps up to her door.

Behind him are Jayga and August.

My chest freezes, and my body reacts instantly. My blood rises, pounding through my veins and filling with all the potency of my healing magic. Jayga is leaning heavily upon August’s support—both are covered in blood.

I step back, holding the hanging out of the way.

They duck to enter. As I let the hanging drop into place, their size and presence fill my tiny quarters, made smaller courtesy of the new couch. Jayga’s dark curls are damp with sweat, and his mahogany eyes are tight with pain. Blood leaks between his fingers, darkening his armor.

“Please,” I beg, trembling with the rush of healing blood. Past hurts and future dreams evaporate in the face of my need to serve the men I love in this most basic of ways.

“Hold up, lass,” Jayga grunts, warding me away. “Let me kick my boots off afore I get mud all over your pretty rug.

“And blood,” August says dryly. “We are both leaking a fair bit of blood.”

“Aye,” Jayga adds. “Thankfully, we spilled more of the green bastards, and the village is yet safe.”

I’m too busy worrying to linger on news of victory.

Jayga—he has loved me while August was away. All that time I was worried about August being safe. Today reminds me that I can take nothing for granted.

That I love them both equally.

That losing either of them is more than I can bear.

“I do not care about the rug,” I say fiercely. Not that they are paying me any attention. Jayga has already kicked his boots off. Easing from August’s hold, he props himself against the wall while I wring my hands and fret.

I make a dart for him.

“Fuck. Hold her off, would you,” Jayga mutters. “I’m filthy. Don’t want to get it all over her fancy dress.”

August obligingly snags me around the waist, where I fight and rail. The pulse points at my throat are pounding. I am ready for them to feed.

“Where did this monstrosity come from?” August asks.

He is talking about my new chaise longue—there is no other monstrosity in the room.

“Perfect height for rutting… or eating her out.” Jayga chuckles—it turns into a pained grunt. “Gods, I need to shut up,” he mutters, fumbling to undo the buckles of his armor before shucking it to the floor. The fight goes out of me as I see the blood staining his undershirt. He makes quick work stripping it off, exposing an angry puncture wound just under his ribs. Then shoves down his pants with a curse, kicking out of them.

“Oh please,” I beg. “Take a little blood.”

“Steady, love,” August says, subduing me with ease. “We both know Jayga can be a mule. If he says he won’t touch you until he’s clean, he means it.”

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