Page 52 of Mated to the Mad Marquess

Malcolm sat up, bleary-eyed. Margot and Susan made themselves comfortable, squatting on the end of his bed. He opened his mouth to warn them off.

“Don’t fret. Your mate is out hunting with her familiar,” Susan said comfortingly. “She’s not about to charge in here and murder us.”

“Elspeth went home this morning.” Margot pouted at him. “You’ll have to entertain us now.”

The shadows knocked over the fire poker and sent a cloud of soot into the air. Malcolm climbed to his feet, pulled on his trousers, and chased them out of the mess before they rolled it all over the room.

“Your babies are just as restless and in need of distraction as we are,” Susan noted.

Righting the fire poker, Malcolm sighed but didn’t bother correcting her about the base shadows. The little puffs of darkness did seem restless. They gathered around his feet and bleated at him for attention, and when he bent to inspect them, they latched onto his arms, demanding snuggles. Chuckling, he sat on the floor cross-legged and allowed them to pile in his lap. They trembled there, mewling softly, heat growing between them.

“It’s all right,” he soothed them. “Solis, I have an idea,” he said to his soul, who parted from him to shade the floor.

But we don’t do that anymore, I thought,Solis reminded him.Using those abilities worried you after what happened to Father.

“We’ll need to make another exception, given the circumstances,” Malcolm said. Thinking of his father put a pit in his stomach.

“What’s he going on about?” Margot whispered.

“Shh, he’s talking to himself again, I think,” Susie said, waving her words away.

Vibrating with excitement, Solis floated onto the ceiling, darkening the tin tiles there. His shadowy form stretched, growing into the image of a great dragon surrounded by powerful living trees. The immortal trees had been weaponized by the Seelie to bring the Unseelie creatures down. The little balls of darkness fell silent and still, enraptured by the story Solis told with shades cast across the ceiling.

Solis had chosen the battle of Blood Mire—a favorite tale Malcolm’s father had told him again and again when he was a boy. The vicious legendary battle between the Seelie and the Unseelie continued above them.

Although the little nuggets of night were greatly entertained by the shadow show, Margot and Susan eventually grew bored of the events they likely already knew well. They meandered from the room. Malcolm dressed and slipped on his boots—pausing to remove the frog Clappa must have placed in one of them overnight. Combing his fingers through his hair, he found a knot tied in the strands above his pointed ear—further confirmation of the fairy child’s presence.

The frog hopped away across the floor, and a few of the little inky puffs broke from the group to chase it for sport.

Minutes later, a shout rang down the corridor. Malcolm leapt to his feet and ran into the hall. He found Hrafn standing there at the top of the stairs.

“Sacred stars,” Margot shouted from somewhere out of sight, “are you all right, Susie? Speak to me!”

Malcolm jogged to the landing to peer down it. He found Susan sprawled in the middle of the steep steps, Ezra circling overhead looking twice as large as usual. The air stank of sulfur—demon blood magic. Malcolm’s eyes snapped to his mate.

Hrafn lifted her hands in surrender. “I didn’t push her. She tripped.”

“I didn’t say you pushed her.” Malcolm had been thinking it, though.

“I tried to catch her, but I just missed her,” Hrafn said, tone crisp. “There’s no honor in hurting unarmed groselings, and I know these two are important to you. Naturally, I wouldn’t hurt either of them even if they do smile at you a whole lot more than what’s in their best interest.”

Now Malcolm felt guilty for thinking her capable of pushing Susan. That feeling was followed by a flare of disappointment that she wasn’t bond-jealous enough to be so wicked. Both feelings were fleeting.

Ezra flew up the stairs and alighted onto her shoulder. She ran her fingers affectionately through the feathers on his breast.

“That was very heroic, Ezra. I’m proud of you,” she told her familiar. To Malcolm, she added, “Ezra doesn’t usually think he can trust humans, but he just saved that one. They’ve had a positive impact on him, I think.”

The hawk’s black chest puffed out proudly.

Margot pulled her friend to her feet and tucked her arm around her shoulder, bracing her weight. Malcolm joined them, helping Susan back up the stairs and into the guest chamber. They sat her on the foot of the bed so she could rest. The shadow show continued above them: a great dragon breathed fire that looked like inky smog. Occasionally the little puffs of darkness yelped excitedly as shadowy trees shook and grew, stretching their limbs to battle the dragon.

“Nothing badly hurt but my pride.” Susan smiled at the doorway where Hrafn and Ezra stood watching. “Thank goodness Ezra was there. He stopped my descent and cushioned my landing, bless him.”

“Falling down the stairs is not how we’re supposed to die,” Margot grumped. “And you weren’t even in your cups.”

“I know, I know. I feel silly enough as is,” Susan said, fixing her hair. Golden strands had come out of their pins. “When we go, I promise we’ll be as old and wrinkled as aged fruit and at least as grizzled as Malcolm is, if not more so.”

Malcolm snorted.

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