Page 23 of Courting the King of Cliffs

He was gorgeous, with his pale arms and chest immediately drawing my attention to the black-ink tattoos climbing over every inch of him. His hair was light, and his eyes a rich brown.

“You’re Dove, right?” he asked, grinning.

I wasn’t technically supposed to let anyone but family call me that, but pretty much everyone in Storm’s kingdom did, so I’d stopped giving a damn about it a few years earlier. “Yep. And you are?”

“Basalt.” He gave me a smile, and two dimples appeared in his cheeks, making him too damn pretty. “I’ve never been to the wind fae’s land. What’s it like?”

I considered it. “Loud,” I admitted. “But beautiful. There’s wind constantly blowing through the trees, dragging their long, flowery branches through the sky like ribbons.”

He looked intrigued. “Do you enjoy living there?”

“I do. I built a lot of the city, though. That probably sways my opinion,” I admitted with a sheepish grin.

He chuckled. “Nothing wrong with that. I’d be proud if I managed to build a city, too. What was that like?”

I explained how fast everything had started growing after Storm and Harper returned to the land with me, and Basalt listened closely, intrigued.

I’d only been talking for a minute when a hint of spices made my nostrils flare.

Forcing myself not to react, I continued.

A moment later, a towering figure sat down in the booth next to me.

His side met mine, and his arm draped over my shoulders, trapping my hair beneath it.

I moved my head a bit, and he freed my hair from beneath his arm with a light brush of his fingers against the back of my neck. Goosebumps erupted on my skin at the touch.

“Hi,” I said to Tremaine, still uncertain about what to say to him or how to talk to him. “What are you doing here?”

I’d known he was going to follow me, but saying so aloud seemed a little overconfident.

“Listening to your story.” He shot me a look that could only have been saying, “Try to get rid of me, female.”

“I was talking with Basalt.” I gestured to the male across from us.

“Go ahead.” He adjusted his position, so our sides were pressed together tightly.

“You look healthier,” Basalt told him, sounding surprised.

“Having your mate in your bed will do that to a man,” Tremaine drawled.

When I flashed him a glare—not arguing, because he hadn’t technically lied—the bastard had the audacity to wink at me.

His eyebrows shot upward, and he looked between us. “You’re mates?”

Tremaine answered without batting an eye, “Yes.” His magic rolled up my arm, making me shiver as the pressure in my mind eased. “We’re fated, but we haven’t gone through with the ceremony yet.”

“Ah.” Basalt leaned back, looking between us a bit cautiously before he stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Dove.”

Tremaine caught him by the arm before he stepped away, tugging him downward. The man crouched a bit, and his forehead creased with alarm.

“Her name is Dissiri, to you and everyone else who didn’t know her as a child,” the king said, his voice calm but the threat in it very, very clear.

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Basalt said quickly.

Tremaine released him without letting the man know he was forgiven, or accepting the apology, or anything else.

My face was flushed. “You didn’t have to scare him.”

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