Page 6 of Heart Cradle
Eiran tilted his head. “And yet, you felt it.”
Her throat worked around a retort that didn’t come.
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he added softly. “That moment, it wasn’t forced. It was just uncovered. The bond’s always been there, dormant and waiting. Like I said, it was given by the gods. Our touch just solidified it.”
Maeve stared. “Solidified,” she repeated, dryly. “So what, you think this is love at first touch? That we’re soulmates or something?”
His expression didn’t turn smug, just sad. “Oh, I don’t think,” he said quietly. “I know.”
The words hit her like a stone to the chest. She wanted to scoff, to get up and walk away, to call him a delusional wanker with too much time on his hands, but she couldn’t. She did feel it, the second his skin touched hers, something inside her opened. Something aching and hungry, something calming and honest.
“Cards on the table. I’m fae and we have mate bonds. They are incredibly uncommon. They aren’t Chains,” Eiran continued, sensing the storm behind her silence. “They don’t bind. They… recognise, it doesn’t mean you owe me anything. It doesn’t remove your choices. It just means a thread is there, between us, woven into us.”
Maeve shook her head. “No. I don’t do fate, I don’t do cosmic threads or magical bullshit. I’m a rational adult. And you… this whole thing, is insane. Fae, like faeries?”
“I know,” Eiran nodded. “But insanity doesn’t make it any less true.”
She suddenly felt cold, despite the sun. Her wrist still tingled, as if it still remembered him. “I didn’t ask for this,” she muttered.
“I didn’t either,” he said. “But I’m not sorry.”
Their eyes locked, and the air between them danced again, with possibility and danger.
Maeve exhaled. “Okay… so let’s say I believe you, which I don’t. But just for argument’s sake, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
Eiran’s smile returned, faint, and full of hope.
“Whatever you want,” he said. “The bond doesn’t force love, it just opens the door.”
Maeve narrowed her eyes. “Let’s pretend, for fun, that this isn’t total madness. That you, and I… and this bracelet are somehow… connected. What exactly do you want from me?”
He tilted his head. Studying her, not like prey or a puzzle, but like something sacred. “I want to explain,” he said. “But more than that, I want you to choose to listen.”
She stared. “I don’t do riddles, or spiritual awakenings, or cult initiation.”
He chuckled. “Good. I’m not here to take anything from you.” A pause. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Her sarcasm snapped up like a shield. “You came to give me something? Oh, thank you! What is it, eternal enlightenment? A map to the faerie domains and all its kingdoms? A cauldron of gold?”
His smile didn’t falter. “In a way… yes.”
Her heart stuttered. There it was again, that gnawing feeling beneath her ribs, something old, heavy and half-buried was trying to wake up. She didn’t like it, didn’t understand it and she didn’t want it. She didn’t leave, either. “Look,” Maeve said, voice harder now, sharper-edged. “If this is some elaborate trick, you’ve picked the wrong woman. I’m a detective back in London. I’ve seen scams wrapped in bows and lies dressed up like foresight. Magical kingdoms, faeries, threads?! You’re not convincing me and you certainly don’t scare me.”
Something flickered in his eyes, respect, maybe, or sorrow. “I don’t want to scare you, love,” he said. “I’m asking you to trust something I can’t fully explain, and you can’t yet understand. Just for a little while. Please.”
Maeve leaned back. The café sounds faded, cutlery clinking, distant laughter, the scrape of chairs. Her coffee had gone cold, but she hadn’t noticed. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll walk away and you’ll never see me again.” Eiran said, without hesitation. “But the Chain will be coming with me.”
Chapter Six – Just Another Bathroom Breakdown
The silence that followed was not empty. It thrummed between them, heavy with unspoken things. Maeve swallowed, she did not believe in fate, gods, faeries, or signs from the universe. She had only ever believed in evidence. Then, as if struck in the head, it dawned on her. The gang from London, they had sent him to find her, to deliver her.
A finder.
Fuck.
Her heart thundered. Her skin burned and, head spun. Suddenly the narrow Lisbon street was too loud, the café too crowded and the air too close. The clink of cutlery, the scrape of chairs, the murmur of conversation, all of it crashed over her like a wave, pressing and suffocating. Sounds blurred into a wall of static as she stood abruptly, the chair scraping back behind her. Eyes wide, breath shallow, she didn’t offer an excuse or glance at Eiran. She just moved, instinctively.
