Page 9 of Courting the King of Cliffs

Not without causing her pain, which I wasn’t willing to do.

“The people’s representatives have a few other errands for us to run, but if you need us to take care of your mate for you again, just let us know,” Eeva drawled.

If they weren’t such damn good friends, I would’ve killed them.

As it was, I struggled to ignore the instinct to do exactly that.

The door shut behind them a moment later, and I opened my eyes again, picking my book up off the table.

All I wanted was a little peace.

Maybe I should’ve just offered Dissiri the throne to be done with it. Even at her most vulnerable, she still had a hell of a lot more energy than I did. Energy that would be really damn useful when it came to dealing with the people’s representatives and the rest of the earth fae. All of them drove me mad. I didn’t blame Quake for handing me the throne as soon as I was strong enough to control my magic; I would do the same thing if the opportunity arose.

My mind kept conjuring images of Dissiri in my rooms, in my shower, in my bed. They were far more accurate images than they would’ve been a day earlier, and that only made them harder to ignore.

How was I supposed to get her out of my head now that I’d seen what she looked like as an adult? The perfect ratio of curves and muscle, of vulnerability and strength. She was fucking breathtaking.

I flipped the pages much slower than usual, reading the words without actually taking them in.

Some time passed, and then an angry gust of wind flooded the room as Storm transported right into my castle.

His fists were clenched, his eyes nearly glowing with rage.

I didn’t bother standing up. The wind king wouldn’t hurt me; that would start a war he didn’t want to fight, against the people who could do the most damage to him. Not to mention, it would put his niece in the extremely uncomfortable position of choosing her father or the people her magic marked her as truly belonging with.

“Looking for Dissiri?” I drawled.

“Where is she?” he snarled.

“Sleeping, probably.”

“She’s here?” He seemed to relax a little. Wind blew through the room, checking my space for her, but I ignored it.

“Not in the castle. She showed up here a few hours ago, overwhelmed and exhausted, and asked for a place to stay.”

He let out a long breath. “The baby was too much for her.”

“No. Well, yeah. But she said repeatedly how much she loves him, if that helps.”

“It does and doesn’t.” He dropped into the chair across from me, tossing me a crumpled sheet of paper.

I reached over and grabbed it, opened it up, and read the words. Dissiri’s writing was flowery and feminine, and it made my chest burn a bit to see it.

Dad,

I’m sorry. I just need time. Granite will give me somewhere to stay, probably. I’ll be safe.

Love you,

Dove

I set the note down next to me.

The fact that she’d believed I would give her somewhere safe to stay, even if she hadn’t been sure of it, made my chest ache.

“She’s happy for you,” I said. “She made that very clear.”

“I know. I feel like I’m failing her, though,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. The exhaustion in his eyes rivaled hers.

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