Page 61 of How To Please A Princely Fae

He remembers. Whatever it was that caused his amnesia… it’s stopped.

My hand goes to my mouth, goosebumps rising across my arms.

The front door creaks open, wind whipping through the house, before it slams shut, Kieran’s footfalls light on the floor.

“Think I got it fixed, but if this wind gets worse, there’s no guarantees it will hold. We might want to board the window just in case—” his words cut off as he meets my eyes.

“You remembered,” I croak. Betrayal. That’s the sick, oily feeling tangling up my emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Were you just going to pretend?”

His wings begin vibrating, a low hum that picks up speed, sending half-melted snow spattering all along the floor and walls.

A muscle in his jaw twitches in time with his wings, working overtime.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I plead, near tears. “Say something. Anything.”

“I remembered,” he grates out, unable to look me in the eye.

Chapter 19

KIERAN

“Iremember,” I repeat, running my hand through my hair, which only manages to send more snow and water all over the floor. “I never… I don’t want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t respond, the devastation and hurt in her lovely eyes wounding me more deeply than any hurt distributed in my mother’s toxic court.

“Well.” Her chin lifts, her shoulders back. Her throat works as she exerts that iron will over herself once more, but I recognize this now for what it is—a shield. Armor of a sort, the kind that’s come with being so afraid to be hurt that she’s spent a lifetime crafting it.

And now I’m the reason she wears it again.

“I should have told you the minute I started to remember everything, but I…” The right words fail me.

“You should have,” she agrees, and when her voice breaks on the last word, it cracks something deep inside me.

I go to my knees, needing to be near her, needing to be eye-to-eye, on even ground.

Even when the ground seems to be filled with traps I don’t know how to navigate.

“I’m not perfect, Willow, and I never will be. But I am yours, and nothing I remembered will change that.”

Her chin wobbles, her eyes leaking tears now.

I press my finger to one, then kiss the salty liquid from it, unwilling to waste even this from her.

“You are mine. My mate.” I push the sleeve of my shirt up, so rough the button pops off the cuff in my haste. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve remembered. The magic we have is permanent, our bond is permanent.” The mate mark’s still dark and strong against my skin.

The sight of it reassures me, but when I find Willow’s gaze again, pain rockets through me.

Tears stream down angry red blotches on her cheeks, and the wobble in her chin has progressed to a full-on lip quiver.

“None of that, my love,” I tell her, pressing my finger to her mouth. I don’t understand why she’s so angry. “I am yours.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you remembered? Is it because you hate me so much? And now you’re stuck with me because of some mate magic you didn’t want or ask for?”

Oh.Oh.

“No.” I can’t help the laugh of surprise and relief. I snatch her hand from her lap, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “No. Is that what you’re upset about? You think I… am stuck with you?”

“Like I’m a thorn in your side,” she says miserably, sniffling. “A poisonous, toxic thorn?—”

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