Page 12 of Cathmoir's Sons

“One of us is with you at all times,” I remind him.

“You’re welcome to dance with us. Perhaps, if I cut in, you can partner your brother?”

There’s not even a smile in his voice. Either because he has no sense of humor, which I don’t think is the case, or because he’s perfected speaking without inflection. That is, I grudgingly admit, a good skill for a king to have.

“Since you’re a stranger to her,” I respond, emphasizingstranger. “She’s not going to want to dance cheek-to-cheek with you. Plenty of room out there for three or four or even five of us to dance together.”

I tip my head at the Holly King’s knight, Aehelwen, who has been watching this exchange with a bored air, until I mention group dancing. Then he’s out of his seat as quickly as a Cait would move. He holds the back of the Holly King’s chair, pulling it a little away from the table.

“I’d be delighted to dance with you, sire,” Aehelwen says.

The Holly King chuckles. “And I with you, my rose.” He rises and places his hand on Aehelwen’s arm when the knight holds it out for him. Aehelwen starts toward the dance floor.

I slip past them and lead the way to my mate.

Luca gives her warning that we’re coming. She turns to look at our little entourage.

As her eyes meet mine, they flare the clearest, crystal blue.

My heart seizes.Caileán.

I wait to see if her cloak of feathers appears. It doesn’t. But she shakes her shoulders so her hair falls back over them and stands a little straighter, pushing her breasts even higher in that criminally curvy corset.

When we reach her, she extends her hand regally to the Holly King. He looks taken aback, then recovers, bowing over her hand and brushing a kiss over her knuckles.

With a wicked smile, she turns and extends her hand to me. I bow deeper than the Holly King, even though the motion jabs a hot knife into my wounded side and take my time lavishing kisses over her knuckles.

“My queen.”

“My Cait,” she responds, her burning eyes tracking down my torso. “Do you still ail from that Mirk blade?”

I shrug. I won’t admit weakness in this nest of high fae. “I’m always ready to serve you, my queen.”

Her eyes narrow slightly but she nods before turning that ice-fire gaze on the Holly King. “Aranthann. Aehelwen. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Kellan—” the Holly King begins.

“Caileán,” she corrects him. “I understand from my Cait that you intend to court me.” She puts a hand on Luca’s shoulder, her claws curling into the fabric of his tuxedo. “I’m flattered by your attention.”

“But do you welcome it?” the Holly King asks.

“I welcome the friendship of any who approach me with an open mind and kind intentions.”

“And if my intentions are more than friendship?” he persists.

I hate him. I should have pounced.

“Then I’m doubly flattered,” she says. “I look forward to getting to know you better. And to understanding your full intentions.”

The Holly King smiles, but it’s not a warm, open smile, or even the tolerant, neutral smile he’s been giving me. This is the smile of someone who’s just recognized a worthy adversary.

“Shall we dance?” he asks.

Caileán tips her head to the side. “Would you forgive me if I say this bod—that I’m fatigued? I’m still recovering from the battle and its aftermath. Would you sit with me for a few minutes before I retire?”

The Holly King bows. “Of course.”

He moves away from Aehelwen and offers Caileán his arm. Seeing her curl her claws around the Holly King’s arm makes me want to rip it off the way Luca did the arm of that Mirk Rider.

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