Page 82 of Cathmoir's Sons

Gabe picks up his wine glass and swirls the deep claret liquid within. “It is good wine.”

Darwintinkshis glass against Gabe’s.

“Why are you four so cavalier about this?” Lords demands. “Do you have any idea what would happen to the ley lines if Kellan and her consorts kill the Oak or Holly Kings?”

Teddy lifts her head from her hands. “Ev, I got nothin’ but respect for you with this Capricorn Primus gig. Honest. ButDarwin and I created a ley line just from shagging. You can’t ask us to treat them like sommat sacred. They’re not. Magic’s fluid. It grows, contracts, shifts. Right now, it’s concentrated at Ivywhile. But you’re gonna have to work hard to convince me that’s a good thing. It’s fueling the Oak King. And I’m not sold on his arse. Jury’s still out on the Holly King. If Kells and the Cait have a good reason to want him dead, I’m inclined to listen to them.”

Lords gapes at her, his mouth working like a landed fish.

Teddy turns her glare on me. “Notice I said agoodreason. More’n just you don’t like him makin’ a play for your girl.”

“I don’t like him making a play for our girl,” I acknowledge. “But I’m also distrustful of his motives. Why would the most-recently-crowned monarch of the high fae be interested in Caileán? She’s wild fae. There are other, powerful high fae the Holly King could court. Why our girl?”

Teddy’s brown eyes track over my shoulder to where the trio are making their way through the wildflowers toward a distant group of sheep. “Good question,” she acknowledges. She turns to look at the demon. “Why d’you want to kill him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” The demon picks his teeth with a sharp claw. “I’ve paid my seggurach’s debt to him. We’re even. I hate the Twittering Throng, present company excepted. One less airy fairy in the world? Not somethin’ I’ll lose sleep over.”

“This is why you’re not allowed unsupervised time with the babies,” Teddy says, rubbing her forehead. “Okay, I get we may have concerns about his motives and loyalties. Giving him the benefit of the doubt for a minute, and not ignoring the fact that the Mother resurrected himherself, if his motives are sommat we can live with, does he get to live?”

“Not as part of Caileán’s ... court,” I say with what I consider to be remarkable restraint.

No one remarks on it, disappointingly.

“He could just be looking for an alliance with the side he thinks will win,” Luca’s human offers.

“Are we picking sides?” Lords asks.

“Yes,” I tell him.

He scrubs his hand through his hair. His Darkswerd rubs his shoulder comfortingly.

“I hate to interrupt the assassination pre-planning,” the Thistle Regent says, while rocking Carrie Prince’s namesake. “But I’ll remind you that I’m sworn to the Oak King. Since you’re still in thepre-planning stage, I have nothing to report to my liege. But he won’t simply ignore the wild fae rising against Ivywhile.”

“I h’aint forgot,” Teddy says, watching her father-in-law with a cool, steady gaze.

Her father-in-law looks back at her. I have a sense they’ve shared many such looks. They may be family but I suspect they’re not always on the same side of the table.

“There’s no renegotiation on that point, Teddy,” Callan says.

I’m not sure what point he’s referring to. His allegiance to the Oak King? Reporting our plans? Does the Oak King even know his fellow king is courting a Crow Queen? The Oak King is sunk so far in woody thoughts, bound so deep in his form, he barely acknowledged his closest advisors the last time Luca and I were at court. I can’t imagine it’s gotten better in the years since.

I’m a hundred percent behind my mate. If she wants to end the Oak King, I’ll tear him apart with my teeth and claws and burn his stump. But the truth is, if she leaves him alone, the Mother will do the work for her. He can’t have more than another century or two before he’ll no longer be able to communicate through his own bark.

That’s a long time for him to haunt us, though. I won’t subject my mate to that. I want her to live free and easy. Thatmeans eliminating any threat to her. Particularly before she bears our kits.

Chapter 23

Eating Crows

KELLAN

Ithought that deeply disappointed look was hard to bear from my parents, but Emilia Quinn’s sad glare beats theirs hollow.

“Kellan, they’re students,” she says, her tone heavy. “Seniors.”

“I know.” I understand what she’s saying. They’re months from graduation. Why didn’t we just wait? “Emilia, I absolutely hate doing this to you. I feel like I’ve failed you. You bent over backwards to get me back to Bevington. You gave me free rein with the exhibit. You got me started on tenure track. I appreciate every bit of it. And I’m letting you down.”

Dean Quinn sighs. “You’re making it hard for me to yell at you.”

---