"And do you?" He turned her face toward him, those eyes seeing straight through to her core.
"No." Wonder colored her voice. "I feel stronger. More powerful even."
"You are." He kissed her forehead, gentle despite the heat beginning to build again in his gaze.
She tested the bond experimentally, pushing a thought toward him.This is insane.
His grin turned wicked.You love it.
Maybe.
Definitely.
She laughed, the sound surprising her with its lightness. "We're never going to have privacy in our own heads again, are we?"
"Probably not." He stood, gloriously unconcerned with his nudity as he stretched, muscles rolling beneath sun-kissed skin. "Though supposedly we'll learn to shield eventually. Give each other space when needed."
"Good." She rose too, ignoring the slight ache in her thighs as she searched for her clothes. "Because I don't need you critiquing my inventory decisions."
"I would never." He pulled on his jeans, watching her dress with obvious appreciation. "Though that ordering system you use could be more efficient."
She threw his sweater at his head.
He caught it with a laugh, tugging it on before crossing to her. His hands settled on her hips, thumbs stroking through the fabric of her own sweater. "How do you feel? Really?"
She considered the question seriously, taking inventory of her body and mind. The bond hummed contentedly. Her lioness had settled into a satisfied purr. And finally, she felt completely at peace.
"Like I finally stopped fighting fate and started working with it." She leaned into his touch. "Like I chose exactly right."
"You did." He kissed her, slow and thorough, pouring everything he felt through the bond until she was dizzy with it.
The front door of the tavern rattled violently.
They broke apart, both tensing before Maeve remembered she'd locked everything last night. The rattling continued, followed by a familiar voice.
"Maeve Cross, I know you're in there!" Twyla's sing-song call carried through the wood. "My fae senses are tingling something fierce, and I brought cocoa!"
"Shit." Maeve looked at Dante, then down at herself. They were dressed at least, but the tavern showed obvious signs of last night's activities. The rumpled rug by the fire. Their abandoned coffee mugs. The distinct scent of sex and magic hanging in the air.
"Too late to pretend we're not here?" Dante asked hopefully.
"She knows." Maeve moved toward the door, finger-combing her hair. "She always knows."
She unlocked the door, and Twyla swept in like a force of nature, her arms full of a tray bearing three steaming mugs and an expression of barely contained glee.
"Good morning, you beautiful, bonded fools." Twyla set the tray on the nearest table, her soft brown eyes sparkling with centuries of fae mischief. "Don't even try to deny it. I can smell the mate bond from the Griddle and Grind."
"We weren't going to deny anything." Maeve crossed her arms, trying for dignity and probably failing. "You could have knocked like a normal person."
"Where's the fun in that?" Twyla's gaze swept the room, taking in every detail with the precision of someone who'd been matchmaking longer than Hollow Oak had existed. Her eyes landed on the rug by the fireplace, and her smile turned absolutely wicked. "Oh, Maeve. Really? My rug?"
Heat flooded Maeve's face. "It's not your rug. It's my tavern's rug."
"That I gifted you three years ago with explicit instructions for proper care." Twyla picked up two of the cocoa mugs,pressing them into Maeve and Dante's hands. "Which I'm fairly certain doesn't include using it as a mating altar."
"We'll buy you a new one," Dante offered, not even trying to hide his grin.
"Damn right you will." But Twyla's expression softened as she studied them, her fae blood making her eyes glow slightly. "Let me see the marks."
