But now, knowing about some of her past…I don't blame her. It'll take time to earn her trust. Especially because we fucked up with that stupid bet.
I notice Silas hardcore staring at the small, lightly bleeding scratch on our keeper's cheek. Maven seems to notice, too, because her lips twitch.
"Fang me later. Now isn't the time."
The blood fae swallows hard before snapping out of it. "Here, allow me to—" Then he pauses and swears. "I forgot. My magic won't heal you because you use necromancy."
Everett's eyes get hilariously round. "What?"
"Necromancy and other magics mix like oil and water. They refuse to interact. Common and blood magic will not mingle with necromancy, which in turn will not?—"
"Who the hell cares? That's not what I meant," the elemental snaps, turning to our keeper with a furrowed brow. "You're a necromancer?"
Ignoring him, Maven kneels beside me, lips pressed together unhappily as she studies my skin that's still healing each puncture wound slowly. Some of them are still bleeding. When she reaches out to gently test a couple of areas, I pretend it doesn't hurt.
Even though it absolutely fucking does. Now that I'm not distracted with seeing my keeper take names and kick ass, everything fucking hurts. Silver injuries heal slowly and sting for days.
But I want to soothe my mate. "I'm fine, Mayflower. All good here."
Come to think of it…she's right. Now that I've seen her in action, she doesn't strike me as aMayflower. I'll have to find a better nickname for her.
"You could have died," she mutters. "I should have killed him slower."
"Awe. You do care," I grin.
Maven's gaze arrests me. "More than you know. Now apologize for letting yourself get hurt like that."
My heart starts pounding. I swallow and nod like a good boy because that's what I'll always be for her.
"I'm really sorry, baby."
She glances at Silas and Everett like she's looking for any more signs of damage to our quintet. The lucky fuckers are both roughed up but fine, so she tells them to check this area for signs of any other threats before we leave the forest. It's an excuse to talk to me alone, and we all know it, but they still give us space.
I have no idea what she wants to say to me alone, so I'm shocked when Maven uses one of her oversized sleeves to try wiping some of the blood off my face.
"For the record, I'm sorry too."
I'm getting distracted by her scent and nearness. "What…uh, what for?"
"As I understand it, shifters look forward to the day they get matched to a mate with even more excitement than any of the other Four Houses. You didn't deserve to get matched to a bitch."
A snarl rips from my throat. "Don't call yourself that. You're not a bitch."
"I punched you," she points out.
"So what? I probably deserved it."
"I mistreated you on purpose, which you didn't deserve. Also…” She meets my eye, her expression softening. "I likedthose flowers you got me. I just couldn't let you know that, or you'd think I was encouraging you."
My heart is soaring. Seriously, I'm too lightheaded for this. Is she actually saying all of this, or is my head just fucked up from losing so much blood?
"Are you saying you're encouraging me from now on?" I ask, praying to all six gods that I'm reading this situation right.
Because I think my spooky little mate is trying to express her feelings but doesn't know how.
"I'm saying…" She hesitates, studying my eyes, and then peels off one bloodied glove to place her hand on my jaw. "The gods are cruel, but I can't resist anymore. So fuck it all. You're stuck with me until the tragic end."
The moment her soft lips press against mine, I can't think straight. Desire and desperation for my mate burn through my veins alongside the residual pain. I groan, deepening the kiss so I can stroke her tongue with mine.
