Page 133 of Ulune's Daughter

I settle back onto the roof in satisfaction, folding my paws under my chest and wrapping my tail around them against the breeze. Fond mate. Loving mate. I admire her, too, and I’ll play with her as often as she wishes. Although that stupid feather on a string she bought to tease Whitey is an abomination and has to go.

Their conversation drifts back to the runes and I let my attention wander until I hear my mate yawn. I chuff twice to let Luca know he needs to wrap up their dinner party and get our mate to bed. He tells Kellan he’s tired a minute later; she excuses herself to pay the old human.

“Are you staying the night?” Luca whispers up to me.

I leap off the roof and into my skin, crouching in the shadows beneath the window. “Not if you take our mate to bed. Unless you want me to join you.”

Luca’s silent for a long moment. Then he huffs. “Fuck. Yes, I want to, but no, I’m not going to. She’s not drunk but she is tipsy. It would break her trust if I seduced her. She’d push me away tomorrow. I can’t tell you how good today’s been, Law. This is the future I want. Working with her every day, at her side. I know I owe you nine million favors but this is what I want, Law. Get this for me.”

“It’s only nine thousand, seven hundred and fifty-six,” I remind him. “And I will. If you’re not sleeping with her tonight, then I’m staying. I want one of us with her every night from now on, Lu. She was in such a bad place three days ago. I can’t see her go back to that.”

“She’s not in a bad place today. Did you hear what I said about Didrane?”

“I did. I’ll bring Dex and Mags when you take her stone into Faery. The Mirk will gather in no time.”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t see any sign of the Mirk when Kellan walked me through Faery. But anything could be waiting for us in her castle. Better that you and the cousins come along.”

“Did Didrane threaten Kellan?” I ask.

“No, quite the opposite. She seemed friendly. She has to be one of the Badbh, Law. She’s visited Cait House. I remember her.”

“I remember her, too.”

“Does Dad know she’s a Queen of Faery?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone knows. The Crow Queens have hidden themselves and their courts. We need to find out why.”

“We should have gone to Ivywhile when we had the chance.”

“Taking care of Kellan was more important. We’ll have other chances.”

“Yeah, assuming you haven’t burned your bridges with the Holly King.” He grunts. “She’s coming.”

I slip back into my fur and walk into the shadows. I’ll wait for my mate in her bed.

Chapter41

Holding Pattern

CAILEÁN

Irise and walk to the window overlooking the sea.

In the soft bed behind me, my Cait warrior snuffles and rolls over, reaching for the warmth he’s lost. With a breath and a flick of my claws, I send him back to his slumber. He’s served his queen well; he deserves his rest.

A few lights twinkle on the seafront, but the rocks below and the water eating them into sand are dark. The moon rides low, fingers of silver barely tipping the waves.

I will not be seen even by those with the Sight.

I draw my cloak from the aether. Now that Didrane has awakened their names in me, I’ll seek out two of my sisters tonight. But first there is the matter of this place and why it’s called me here.

I open the window and leap to the sill in my smallest shape. The night is cool but not so cold it’s breath will wake my Cait. His fire soul burns bright in any event. The cold will not affect his mortal form.

I glance back at the sleeping man. The faint moonlight paints him with caresses of silver: hair rumpled by sleep and my fingers, the curves of cheek and shoulder and muscled arm. The Mother’s weapon is objectively more beautiful with his dark hair and deep eyes. But my fae nature is drawn again and again to my Cait: the warrior and the scholar. They are the consorts who will rule Ceòfuar at my side after the Mother’s weapon is spent.

If any of us survive to rule Ceòfuar. And to survive, we need knowledge.

I spread my wings and catch the night breeze. I flap over the promontory, circling the dark castle and darker rocks below. The part of my mind that clings to humanity, to the ideas and ideals important to the woman, is drawn to the Mother’s tomb in the rock. But my fae blood tugs me elsewhere: across the rolling water to the sandy spit of Torre Faro with its candy-cane striped warning light.

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