Page 83 of Atop the Faerie Throne
I doubt that’s going to happen, but I understand.
They’ve spent so long on opposite sides of an impossible divide that this seems too good to be true, but simultaneously too hard to overcome.
“Is there anything holding you back, or are you just worried about her running away?” I ask, because I sincerely doubt thatPrae would’ve spent so long on her dress if she was just going to get blood all over it.
His ice-blue eyes are too perceptive. “I’m not backing out. I know it won’t be easy, what she’s done… whatI’vedone…”
My brow crinkles. “What you’ve done…?”
“I’ve killed hundreds of Fomorians in my time.” He looks down as he says it. “I’m several thousand years older than her. For all that her sins are more recent, mine are assuredly greater.”
I never thought of it that way. Prae’s weapon may have killed a good number of fae, some of them his friends and subordinates, but the city was mostly evacuated by the time Elatha fired it. Florian’s been a warrior for millennia.
“My point is,” my brother continues, when the silence grows heavy. “I’ve waited for her for so long. I’ve craved her since Danu put her in my path. I will make this work… if she lets me.”
“Not worried about Gryffin?”
Florian rolls his eyes. “I’m no idiot. He has his place with us. But doIhave a place withthem?”
Frowning, I answer. “Without you, those two would never get anything done. You complement them both. Besides, what does the bond tell you?”
Florian smiles softly, turning to look at the door. “That she’s on her way.”
Bree is waiting for us outside. Florian gives me a last half-bow before he moves past us and heads for the round, pebble-shaped altar nestled in the dip in the centre of the courtyard. Gryffin is already there, and the two clasp arms in greeting.
“Everything okay?” my púca asks, and I nod.
“Just nerves,” I whisper. “We should go find Prae.”
Technically, this is a blessing and not a ceremony, though the terms are sometimes used interchangeably among the fae. Kitarni suggested—more like insisted—that although she woulddo Prae’s anointing, I should be the one to publicly bless the three of them.
Her reasoning, that it would send a powerful message of Danu’s approval, is sound. But I still have to take deep, calming breaths as I head towards the open temple doors.
Prae is there, just out of sight, fussing with the strap of a beautiful, flowing silver dress that clings and bunches in all the right places to show off her muscular legs. Her war paint covers her from her cheekbones to her hairline, darkening the higher it goes. Over the top, she’s painted white markings that remind me of the feathers and beak of some great owl.
It’s a savage blend of fae and Fomorian.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her, raising my brows at the blade openly worn around her waist.
Maybe my brotherdoesneed to worry about her stabbing him.
“Are you ready?”
“Obviously.” Her shoulders go back, head drawing up to claim her full height.
Her steps sashay with easy sensuality as we enter the room together, and I envy her confidence just a little bit.
My place at her side affords me the perfect view of my brother’s face as he takes in his mate in all of her finery. His jaw actually drops, and the loss of composure makes me smile.
Her stride is longer than mine, so she reaches them first, taking her place in the middle of the two males and accepting their offered hands.
No stabbings yet.
I round the altar, taking my place on the other side with my own mates lingering behind me. With a breath, I deliberately lower my shoulders and ignore the courtyard of gathered fae to focus solely on the three people in front of me.
“Are you all here today of your own free will?”
I don’t stutter or stumble, but only because I’ve caught hold of the thread that connects me to Danu, and a little of the Goddess’s serenity leaks into my body.
