“Naeron,please,” I sobbed, uncaring of my dignity. “I’m your oldest friend. Don’t do this. I’ll do anything, just let me be with her.”
There was a pause. It lingered, allowing a flicker of hope to swell in my chest before it was snatched back. “Escort him from my sight,” he ordered, blank, emotionless. Bored. “I never want to see his face again.”
The world was a blur, a muffled din as I screamed and fought. It was futile. The progress I had made in the human realm, the dreams I had allowed myself to believe, the plans we had whispered to one another in the quiet of night—all of it gone with a snap of his fingers. I would never know that taste of peace again. I would never seemy mateagain.
My Rosemary.
LUCA
PRESENT DAY
(Two Days BeforeTeighanEpilogue)
There were really only two things that made early mornings more bearable. The first was breakfast in bed: stacks of soft pancakes with lashings of syrup, or Chef Milo’s savory meat pies with cheese and relish brought to me on a silver tray.
The second was having Cair’s mouth on my dick.
As divine as it was to slowly blink into consciousness with my mate’s arms surrounding me in a warm, safe cocoon—one of my life’s simplest yet greatest pleasures—my lazy ass sometimes needed extra encouragement. However, as I stirred awake, squinting as the sun laser-beamed straight into my retinas, I could not smell the sweet, sticky scent of fruit and fluffy goodness in the air. Nor did I feel anything special happening between my legs.
Was Cair bored of our mated-and-in-love routine already? The fact that we’d already formed routines made me all giddy. We were adorable. It had only been six months since we came back to the Otherworld after Alex and Teighan’s mating, and if Cair was no longer feeling the honeymoon-like bliss, he never let it show. His enthusiasm spoke for itself, and seriously, howanyonecould be as perky as he was at the ass crack of dawn was beyond my comprehension.
Without fail, on the mornings when he couldn’t stay in bed with me, he’d nuzzle the back of my neck, wait until I stirred, then grind up against my ass, getting me all hot and bothered before slipping under the covers to suck me dry—almost like an apology for leaving. If he deemed me too peaceful to disturb, he’d sneak out while I was dead to the world and return later to present his platter of freshly baked goods before going about his duties with the most self-satisfied smirk on his face. Either way, he always seemed eager to follow his provider instincts, and on the days when he felt particularly doting, I got both. I was out here living the dream.
Except… this morning I was awake with no food, no blow job, and no mate in sight.
Where has he gone?
Groaning, I rose to a sitting position, rubbing my eyes and almost dislocating my jaw with a yawn. There was no note on the bedside table, and his overcoat still hung by the door, so he hadn’t left for work yet. It was funny. I’d never been overly enthusiastic about the prospect of a ‘kept husband’ life. It was ingrained into every fiber of my being that earning my keep and never relying on others for anything was the only way to be. I mean, I still balked at the idea of Cair spending money on me, or lavishing me with all manner of extravagant gifts, but… the acts of service? Yeah, those were something I could enjoy, especially since it made Cair happy—let it be known that I was willing to compromise. However, as I scanned the room for any hints of where my devoted mate could be, I realized I might have got more used to the prince treatment than I’d thought. I was mourning it.
My belly even rumbled as if to say, “He’s laaaate.”
Christ, what was I thinking? I really had taken to that royal sense of entitlement like a duck to water, huh? He’d probably been called away on business. If the king needed him, he wouldn’t have had the chance to do anything else; his father was not a patient guy and would not be kept waiting. Briefly, a worry about Cair being in trouble crossed my mind, but I shook it away. Rathe, his steward, would have come to me if that were the case, and I would have felt his suffering through our bond. No, he was safe, just busy, and maybe that was a sign for me to makehimbreakfast for a change.
Or at least go down to the kitchens and scour the cupboards until they took pity on me. The last time I’d tried to make anything was the cake I’d had the naive idea of baking for the twins’ birthday. I’d almost burned the place down, so Mrs. Loris would probably stop me at the threshold and shoo me away, promising to send a feast up.
It was the thought that counted, though, right?
I peeled back the covers and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stretching before shuffling to the en suite. The fizz of magic hung in the air, making my skin tingle, and with a quick snap of my fingers, the lights flickered on. Barely anything in the Otherworld operated as it did in the human realm, though they shared a few amenities. There was running water, indoor plumbing, and electric lights, but instead of physics and engineering, it all came from magic. The king preferred his land as close to its natural state as possible, but he allowed for certain necessities to be made less rudimentary—or medieval.
Technology wasn’t used here—no mobile phones or the like—and nothing that caused pollution or the unnecessary demolition of nature. Cars were a total no go, though since teleportation was a thing, there was no real need for them. It was baffling to think that I could have a hot bath in minutes, and switch on a lamp to read at night, but if I wanted to speak to Alex, I had to write a letter.
I had to admit, the transition was a little strange, but the fresher air in my lungs and the breathtaking landscapes were an acceptable compromise.
As I washed my hands, I glanced at myself in the mirror. My curls were sticking out in every direction, a result of Cair’s fingers running through them last night and how I wriggled in my sleep. There were also teeth and finger marks speckling my shoulders and chest, purple and raw. My belly heated at the memory of their sting, though I’d have to remember to cover up before heading downstairs. I’d been on the receiving end of too many knowing looks last time.
I left the bathroom and was making a beeline for my dressing robe when the bedroom door creaked open. I’d half expected one of the maids to come storming in to change the sheets or offer to bathe me—an offer I refused every time it was made—but instead, relief rushed through me as Cair’s gorgeous face came into view.
“You’re up,” he said as he entered the room, tray in hand, gently toeing the door closed behind him. He sounded shocked. Maybe even a little disappointed. “Forgive me, pet. I was ambushed in the corridor by one of my father’s chancellors. I had no intention of making you wake up alone.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured him, and with my plans foiled, I crawled back under the covers, robe forgotten. The smell of warm batter and sweet fruit compote filled my nose. I squirmed happily. “I assumed you’d been called away.”
He hummed and placed the tray on my lap. There were two plates piled high with pancakes, two glasses of iced tea with lemon, a bowl of freshly cut berries, and a big jug of syrup. It looked delicious, and I was eager to tuck in, but before I could lift my fork, Cair swooped in to kiss me hard, knocking me off balance.
My lips were all tingly by the time he withdrew.
“Good morning, my heart.”
“Morning.” I smiled, dazed, though when I looked down at the spread he’d brought, a pang of guilt made me falter. “I should make you breakfast. I feel selfish.”