Page 95 of Heart Cradle
She sobbed his name, coming undone with him still deep inside her, shaking, wrecked and radiant. Eiran came with a roar, hips slammingflush, filling her with a raw, helpless cry of devotion and fury all braided together.
After a time, they sat opposite each other in the bath again, both hot and chilled, steam rising between them. Eiran sagged forwards, his voice cracked like old wood. “I’m sorry. For shouting, for disappointing you.”
“I know and so am I,” she whispered.
The bathroom was quiet as they contemplated recent events. Maeve broke the tension with an exhale. “So, any females with the royals?”
Sorrow lingered in his eyes. “I think it is out of you, Nolenne or Aeilanna.”
Maeve sighed. “Aeilanna’s a threat to Vargen. Nolenne’s a threat to his propaganda. And me…”
“You have the fucking Chain, you’re more than a threat.” He met her eyes. “You’re the end.”
Maeve rubbed her eyes. “Shit. We need to figure out what the fuck is going on.”
She straightened. “Let me speak to Davmon.”
“Absolutely not, Maeve. I want you nowhere near that fucking dog.” Eiran’s head shook so hard it looked like it might rattle off his neck.
Maeve met his gaze, her voice gentle. “I’ve interrogated people too. The Met taught me a lot, you don’t need to hurt someone to make them break. You just have to know what scares them most.”
Eiran looked down into the water. “And what if he doesn’t scare?”
“Oh, they all scare,” she said quietly. “You just have to find the crack.”
A beat of silence passed.
“I’m not saying I’ll succeed,” Maeve added, steady. “But if you get nothing else, please. Let me try. Let me take a crack at him.”
Eiran nodded after a long pause, voice low. “Alright. If he’s still clinging to the same story, you’re in. I do trust you, I just don’t want him near you.”
She leaned back with another sigh. “Training with Nolenne and Soren was intense, but kind of fun. Flight drills were exhilarating, and Ifinally got a grip on my magic for more than five seconds without frying something.”
Eiran’s face lit up. “See? You’re already more impressive than half the royal bloodline.”
Maeve laughed. “Oh yes. Behold the great and mighty half-human who accidentally set her sleeve on fire while trying to cast a basic deflection ward.”
Eiran reached over and caught her foot under the water, fingers curling around her ankle. “You’re doing more than anyone expected, and you look incredible while doing it.”
She smirked. “Still thinking about the leathers?”
He gave a low, unapologetic hum of approval. “Absolutely. You wore them too well, made it almost impossible to concentrate.”
“Not sorry.”
?????
Even after the bath, Maeve felt it in her bones. The ache of training, the thrill of magic, the lingering high of flying with Jeipier and fucking Eiran. There was knocking at the main door and Eiran groaned in annoyance. “For fuck’s sake, not now.”
Maeve, laughing from the dressing room, waved him off. “Your kingdom. Your door.”
“Our realm. Our door.” He corrected, still damp, opening the door a crack.
Branfil stood there, holding a stack of scrolls and looking very much like he wished he were anywhere else. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to finalise the guest list for the binding ceremony,” Bran said flatly, eyes resolutely avoiding Eiran’s.
Eiran leaned his head against the doorframe. “Of course we do, come in.”
He walked back into the bedroom as Maeve passed him, now dressed in a soft green tunic and leggings that hugged her comfortably. Branfil was already seating himself at the low table, parchment spread and he smiled as she joined him. “Apologies again,” he said, handing her a scroll. “But ceremony preparation waits for no one, not even two very recently bathed lovers.”
