Page 92 of Crownless King

He paused, giving me a chance to reply. But I kept quiet, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

His hands moved down my back, then gripped my ass.

“Bavius?” I jerked out of his embrace, but he held me firmly.

His gaze heated. His wide nostrils flared with a powerful puff of air.

“Marry me, Sparrow.”

“What? Really?”

He pushed me against the table.

“Can’t you see how much sense it makes? We’re already living together. There’d be hardly any changes at all.”

I could see how a minimal distraction to his routine would appeal to someone like Bavius.

“You have no status at all right now,” he continued. “Once we’re married, you’ll be my wife. You’ll have a place you can call your own, for life. I’ll protect you for as long as I live, which will be longer than you do. I’ve just started my fourth century. I have many years ahead of me still. You and your child will never have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of both of you.”

He pulled me closer, caging me in his burly arms and allowing me to rest my head on his wide chest. He smelled of ale and freshly churned soil—real tangible scents, grounded in the stable lifestyle he led.

I knew it would never work between us. But a part of me—a lonely, exhausted part—wished it would.

Life with Bavius would be steady and reliable, just like the man he was. Maybe if we were married, Bavius would warm up to Aithen, too? My baby would get a father figure in his life.

There was no love between Bavius and me, and there never would be. But I wasn’t searching for love. I’d had that—a crazy, passionate, all-consuming love that made my heart soar with achy tenderness and my body melt with intense desire. That love had nearly cost me my life.

Now, what I needed the most was peace of mind and stability. Bavius could give that to me.

But what would he get from me in return? He wasn’t Voron. I didn’t know how to make Bavius happy. I didn’t have what he needed.

He rubbed my lower back, the spot in the middle just above my butt. The spot where the tail would be if I had one. But all I had was an illusion.

I leaned back, awkwardly shifting out of his arms.

“Bavius, it’s not me you’re attracted to. It’s this.” I reached behind my neck and opened Voron’s necklace. Taking it off, I placed it on the table.

The sensation of the tail and the horns disappeared instantly, along with the feeling of the differently shaped face.

The heat in his eyes cooled somewhat, but he didn’t let go of me completely. His stare slipped from my face down to my chest.

“I can get used to it,” he said. “Eventually, your face won’t bother me.”

It was honest but hardly romantic.

I shook my head. “You deserve better than the mere convenience the marriage with me would bring you. Because that’s the only thing I can give you as a wife.”

“But that’s all I look for in a wife, Sparrow—the convenience of the familiar, tried, and true. Our marriage will change nothing. Our kids will betaureans, too, because a child of a human and a fae is always a fae.”

Kids.

Bavius saw children in our future. Of course, as his wife, I’d have to have sex with him. Unlike him, I wasn’t repulsed by his face, but I felt no attraction to him either. My heart remained with Voron, whether either of us wished for it or not.

Could I ever learn to have sex for the physical aspect alone, when I already knew what making love felt like when two souls connected?

My chest ached again. I winced, rubbing the left side through my dress.

“It’ll never work between us, Bavius.”

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