Page 22 of Atop the Faerie Throne
They’ve felt my fear before, he means, and the reminder gives me an idea.
Without hesitating to wonder if such a thing is even possible, I take every single fluttering affectionate and loving feeling I have for them and messily attempt to funnel them down the bonds.
Jaro’s wolf tosses his head back and howls a victory cry that shakes the temple to its very foundations, almost drowning out Bree’s harsh inhale and Drystan’s low noise of disbelief.
“Oooh,” Lore croons. “Little pet, are we playing?”
“Lore, don’t—” But Drystan’s orders are ignored as usual as the redcap pours three millennia of pent-up anticipation and devotion down the bond.
Shit. I think I’m coming. Or am I just overwhelmed? My brain—already frazzled from the new connections—fractures, then gives up under the intensity.
Eight
Bricriu
She’s cradled in my arms, and I can’t see myself letting her go any time soon. My thumb traces the mark I’ve left on her right hand with awe. Each one of them is different, but mine holds my attention.
All mating marks are abstract, but ours is like an inksplash swirling across her delicate wrist, stretching up her forearm in shades of black and grey. Captured within the wash are shapes which are faintly reminiscent of my animals. A valravn wing. A pair of feline ears. A forked tongue.
I break my stare to look down at my chest. Right in the centre, a matching stain of vivid violet stands out amongst the black that covers me from head to toe. If I twist my head just so, I think I can make out a dragonfly amongst the lines.
My animals are already shoving my other tattoos out of the way, eager to get close and examine the new addition. Lox nudges the edge with his beak, and Naris headbutts it, both smug when it doesn’t budge.
They like being claimed as much as I do.
Espen is more restrained, his tongue flicking over it before he slithers a retreat back to my forearm. The nathair has always been the quietest of my animals, and his approval is just as subtle.
Right now, I think they’re having an easier time coming to terms with everything than I am.
Rose loves me. Me.
She said she did, but some part of me didn’t believe it was possible. Now, there’s no denying it. I knew I wasn’t worthy of her, but?—
“Bricriu, is she okay?” Drystan repeats, and I realise he’s been trying to get my attention for a while.
“She just passed out.” I raise a brow at the redcap who’s blinking around the room, examining his hand while grinning like a loon. “Check the bond if you’re worried.”
I’m surprised he isn’t fanatically monitoring her through it already.
From here, I can see the edges of the bright red, slashing design at her inner thigh. Then Lore shoves his damned palm in my face, and I get an up close and personal view of the wispy strands of violet that now surround his hand in a matching band that wraps between his forefinger and thumb before fizzling out towards his wrist.
“Marked!” the redcap crows. “Marked and mated?—”
“To a female who fainted because you couldn’t restrain yourself,” Drystan mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re damned lucky I can feel for myself that she’s okay, redcap, or I might melt that mark from your bones.”
Lore’s knife is at Drystan’s throat in an instant.
“You haven’t waited even a fraction of the time I have for this pretty gift, dullahan.” The redcap’s scarlet eyes glint manically. “Try to take it from me. I dare you.”
Drystan shoves the blade away with a groan. “I cannot believe I chose to be stuck with you for an eternity.”
The words are harsh, but his tone, and the warm way he looks at our mate says he doesn’t really mind at all.
“What happened?”
Rose has woken without me noticing, which should’ve been impossible, given our new connection. She brushes a wayward strand of strawberry-touched gold hair out of her face and takes us all in with confused eyes.
“I got a bit too excited, pet. I’m sorry,” Lore admits easily, surprising us all as he blinks beside her. He snatches his cap back from Caed and presents it to her with big red pleading eyes. “Forgive me?”
