Page 7 of Throne of Dreams
No doubt Tiernan had sensed her emotion, and she appreciated his concern. She glanced down at him, now further away than before.“Nothing. It’s just…overwhelming.”
His winning smile stretched across his face.“Just don’t try any fancy moves up there.”
Maeve snorted. As if she could. She was practically a brand new fae, not some High King with hundreds of years of practice.
His deep, rumbling chuckle cruised down her spine and when the sound of it grazed the innermost part of her wings, the most wicked sensation hummed along her skin. She gasped, bewildered that such an insignificant touch could be so sensual. She tracked him on the beach below and found him watching, his brooding eyes locked onto her. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his pants, his face devoid of all emotion. But then she saw it. The faintest uptick of the corner of his mouth.
He knew exactly what he’d done.
“Stop that,”Maeve warned.
“What?” he asked, all feigned innocence.“This?”
That same brush rushed across the sensitive section of her wings again, except this time it was more powerful, and her entire body vibrated with arousal, from the tips of her feathers to her toes. It left her aching, wanting, needing. She bit her lip to keep from moaning in pleasure and it was then the warmth in her back subsided. Her wings vanished. She tumbled from the sky, falling, just as she had when Garvan dropped her so many moons ago during the Autumn Ceilie.
Maeve’s scream pierced the air, echoed by shouts and cries on the ground. She clawed through the sky, the memory of falling still too fresh, too real. A blur of bluish-purple flashed before her eyes as her body careened into a solid wall. Then she was in Tiernan’s arms.
His wings were twice the size of hers. They were the deepest shade of blue but shifted to violet in the sun. He plucked her out of the sky like she was weightless. She stared up at him, at the clenched line of his jaw, dazed and gasping. But he wouldn’t even look at her. He cradled her like a child, and she flinched when he set her down on the beach without even acknowledging her. His eyes were piercing and full of disdain. He’d been the one who caused her to fall, yet he was acting like she was somehow to blame.
The fucking fae.
Her knees quaked and she stumbled forward in the sand, grateful for Lir when his ironclad grip snared her by the elbow to keep her upright.
She glanced over at Tiernan once more, ready to spit fire, but he nodded sharply to Lir, thenfadedwithout a word.
“Are you okay?” Ceridwen wrapped a comforting arm around her and soothed away her anger and annoyance. She filled the space with love and warmth, with a soul-reckoning tranquility that smothered Maeve’s agitation and reminded her to breathe.
“I think so.” Maeve’s voice shook. She straightened, then put on a brave face. Dozens of local Summer fae were watching her. Judging her. “Yes, I’m okay.”
Ceridwen took her hand and squeezed. “I didn’t know you had wings. I mean, I thought you might because of your parents and brothers, but…”
“But the cuffs,” Maeve finished for her. “I didn’t know either.”
“You looked incredible up there, little bird.” Lir’s silver eyes shone bright with something that could’ve been pride. “Even if you had no idea what you were doing.”
A few of the fae who’d watched her fly then fall from the sky gathered closer. Three were children and their eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder. They were small, no taller than her waist, and they approached her with quiet trepidation. Besides the occasional conversations with some of the fae inside the palace walls, Maeve had very little interaction with any other faeries. She hadn’t even been to Niahvess yet. She’d only ever seen the city that seemed to float upon winding canals from the balcony of her bedroom. Lir gave her a slight nod of encouragement as she stole a glance at him.
Ceridwen’s lips curved into a reassuring smile.
The first fae child to approach her was a little female. She was so startlingly pretty Maeve tried not to stare. Her hair was piled on top of her head and jet-black curls sprung from the bun pinned in place with tiny crystals. Spidery lashes framed a set of rich amber eyes.
The beautiful fae child smiled up at her. “Can I see your wings?”
“Darina, you can’t just go around asking if someone will show you their wings,” a female adult chided. She must’ve been the girl’s mother, for they shared the same midnight hair and gilded amber eyes.
The girl’s face fell.
“No, it’s okay,” Maeve said quickly to save the tears welling in the corner of the child’s eyes. Then without thinking, “I don’t mind.”
Maeve hesitated. She wouldn’t mind displaying her wings again at all, except she didn’t know how to bring them back. Therehadto be a way.
She recalled Tiernan’s words to her. He reminded daily that she was in charge of her magic, it didn’t control her.
They’re my wings. I can summon them at will.
Maeve reached for the sensation in the middle of her back, where the marks of two crescent moons took shape. She called to the warmth, to the tingle that raced down her spine, to the thrill of flying. In a rush of magic, her wings burst free, and a roar of giggles and squeals exploded all around. More children seemed to appear and each one had a thousand questions.
“How did you learn to fly?”
