Page 17 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Drystan finally looks away, his shoulders dropping slightly. “And you want to waltz into the palace alone to face that monster?”
I’m surprised he brought it up. None of my Guard have mentioned my risky plan since I suggested it. I thought they were hoping I’d forget about it.
“That’s not what I said,” I reply calmly. “I recognise the danger, which is why I want the rest of you with me, as a team.” I pause, taking a deep breath as I brace myself for what I know will be our next argument. “As my mates.”
Jaro jerks, the growl of his wolf filling the room, and I rush to continue before he shifts and I lose my chance to convince them.
“I can’t control too many spirits at one time without you. Which means?—”
“No, Rosie.” It only takes three strides for Jaro to reach me, and the second he does, he wraps his arms around my waist and drops his face into the crook of my neck. “Not for this. Not like this.”
His body is practically vibrating against mine, and I breathe in his wood-smoke and leather scent with a sigh.
“Shut up, wolfie.” Lore blinks me away until we’re standing on top of the very important war-map. Dropping his hat over my head, he takes my hands and spins us both until the room becomes a blur. “I accept. Shall we do it now? Someone, findKitarni! I am beyond ready to be a properly mated male. Really, it’s about time you made an honourable fae out of me, pet.”
I’m still giggling, and the room is still spinning, when Bree butts in, kicking away from the wall to grab my hand and pull me down.
“Jaro’s right. Rose deserves better than a hasty ceremony.”
“I don’t care,” I reply evenly, as Lore begrudgingly releases me to my púca. “I’ve wanted this forweeks. Any other Nicnevin would’ve been mated properly on their twenty-fifth birthday.”
I’ll never admit to them how much it hurt to see other fae with marks and know that I couldn’t have that.
“You’ll be bound to Caed,” Drystan grumbles.
I meet his amber gaze defiantly. “You know why I have no problem with that.”
His throat bobs again as his hands ball into fists, but he has no answer to that, and his father takes the pause as permission to interrupt.
“Calimnel would be honoured to host the mating ceremony of the Nicnevin, but this might be construed as?—”
“Favouritism?” I finish candidly. “You’re the only minor royal who hasn’t tried to kill me, kidnap my Guard, or mess with my court. I think you’re owed a little show of goodwill.” I quirk a single brow. “Unless you have something you need to confess?”
Ashton smiles, and the expression is mildly terrifying. “Nicnevin Rhoswyn, I think you and I are going to be great friends.”
That would be a first.
“Can we discuss this privately?” Drystan grinds out.
Prae is the first one to head for the door, but she captures my shoulder on her way out, pulling me close as Ashton and Gryffin sweep past us.
“If you save my cousin, I’ll take back every word I ever said about not being your friend.”
“Deal,” I whisper, expecting her to look shocked at the bargain.
She doesn’t.
The door slams behind her, leaving me alone with my Guard.
“You deserve a beautiful ceremony, where the entire city can celebrate,” Jaro starts.
“I can still have that,” I reply, facing down my wolf. “Kitarni can do a blessing when the Temple of Elfhame is restored. But if we wait, your powers will remain unstable. It’ll be harder for me to ground the Goddess’s magic, and we’ll keep misunderstanding one another. We’re supposed to be one Nicnevin and one Guard—a unit—and being mates is a huge part of that.”
I’m sure Drystan’s only struggling with the idea because it’s the final nail in the coffin for his plan to kill Caed. If I’m mated to all of them, murdering him will break me.
“At least consult Kitarni about it before you write the idea off,” I insist, silently wishing I’d had the foresight to ask her to come with me. “But Danu has absolutely no objections.” The Goddess is silent in my chest, content to let us make our own decisions. “If Caed takes me into the palace, and we have proper mating bonds, you’ll be able to find me the second anything goes wrong.”
“This is a half-cocked plan,” the dullahan insists. “There will be iron and hundreds of Fomorian soldiers. Caed will be completely unable to defend you, or worse, we may have to protect you from him.”
