“Yes!” Den’s parents cried, even as their son shouted, “No!” Gothar cuffed his son on the side of the head. “Quiet, boy. That’s a flaming fortune before you. More money than you’ll see in a lifetime. No girl’s worth losing that.” The butcher nodded. “We agree.”
“I don’t!” shouted Den. When his father would have hit him again, Den deflected the blow and glared ferociously at his sire. “Why do you think he’s offering you that money? Because she’s worth twenty times that, and he knows it! I won’t give up my claim to her. I—”
With a snarl of rage, Rain faced him, and Den’s voice suddenly went silent even though his mouth was still shouting words. It didn’t take anyone very long to realize what had happened.
“My Lord Feyreisen!” the king snapped. “Release our subject at once. You will not use Fey sorcery to silence a Celierian subject in a Celierian court of law.”
Though he had the power to destroy Den Brodson with a flick of an eyelash—and despite the fact that the tairen in him was eager to take the burden of thisrultshart’sdeath upon his soul—Rain knew it would be unwise. Ellysetta had not yet entered intothe matebond. She and her family were Celierian. They honored Celierian laws, not Fey ones. Besides, a Fey did not call tairen to hunt mice. With a narrow-eyed look at the king that plainly said he released the boy because he wished to, not because Dorian commanded it, Rain dissolved the bonds of Air he had woven over Den’s larynx to prevent speech.
“You see!” Den cried, pointing an accusing finger at Rain. “How do you know he hasn’t used his sorcery to steal my bride?”
“Goodman Brodson,” King Dorian said, “you are beginning to annoy me.”
“But, Your Majesty—”
“Be silent. You marked a girl under questionable circumstances, forced a betrothal contract out of her parents based on that mark, and now you object because another man may have laid claim to the same girl using his own superior brand of force? Little boys shouldn’t throw torches at tairen, Goodman. The tairen may get a burn, but the boys will be roasted and eaten for dinner.” The king turned to Rain. “As for you, My Lord Feyreisen, regardless of whether or not the Brodsons accept your payment, there are still lawful procedures this court must follow—”
“There are no procedures to govern the bond between a Tairen Soul and his mate,” Rain interrupted. “I have stated my case before you. She is myshei’tani. You have seen the Brodsons accept my payment to them. Dorian vel Serranis Torreval, King of Celieria, son of the line of Marikah vol Serranis of the Fey, do you dissolve the betrothal between Ellysetta Baristani and Den Brodson, holding the Baristani family blameless of any wrongdoing in this matter?”
“My Lord Feyreisen.” Queen Annoura leaned forward in her throne before her husband could reply. “You have indeed stated your case.” Her blue eyes were narrowed, and there was a snap in her voice. “The Brodsons have accepted your payment, and yet I don’t recall hearing Master Baristani grant you the right to break the betrothal on his behalf.” She met Sol Baristani’s bespectacledbrown eyes. “Have you given this right to the Tairen Soul, Master Baristani?”
Sol rose to his feet. He gave Rain a long, hard look. “No, Your Majesty,” he said very clearly. “I have not.”
“Ah. So it seems, Rainier vel’En Daris, you are incorrect in your assumption that the betrothal is broken merely because the groom’s family accepts your very large bribe.” The queen smiled sweetly. “Perhaps you are not so familiar with Celierian laws as you thought.”
Rain’s eyes blazed a furious command at the woodcarver. “You will grant me this right.”
“Sol...” The woodcarver’s wife tugged at her husband’s sleeve. Her voice was an urgent whisper that Rain brought easily to his ears on a waft of Air. “Don’t do it. Think of Ellie, of what’s best for her. You can’t mean to cede her over to these... these godless sorcerers.”
Sol shrugged her off, muttering, “Hush, Laurie. Iamthinking of what’s best for her. She never wanted Den, you know that, but she’s dreamed of the Fey—thisFey—all her life.”
“You’ve always given her everything she wanted, but not this, Sol. They’ll destroy her. They’ll corrupt her soul. Everything we’ve ever done to keep her safe will be lost.”
“Maybe, Laurie, the Bright Lord sent these Fey to help her, to protect her from the things we can’t.”
“And maybe they’re the very thing we were meant to protect her against!”
Sol took a deep breath, stiffened his spine, and struck an aggressive, challenging stance that any male of any species would have recognized. He turned to Rain. “I don’t know you, my lord, and you don’t know me. But lest you think it has escaped my notice, for all this talk of souls and mating, not once have I heard the word marriage fall from your lips. I did not raise my daughter to be any man’s concubine, even if he is a king. If you want the right to break Ellysetta’s betrothal, Tairen Soul, rest assured you willwed her. And I mean by Celierian custom, in a Celierian church, with her family in attendance and a binding marriage contract in my hand!”
“Sol!” his wife gasped. “No!”
“Papa!” Incredulity and hope warred with fear and pride on Ellysetta’s face.
Rain’s expression lost its fury. A man protecting his daughter was something any Fey understood all too well. “Agreed.” He turned back to the queen. “I believe now your Celierian laws are satisfied. Ellysetta’s father has given me the right to offer payment on his behalf. The Brodsons have accepted it. The betrothal is broken.”
Seeing Ellysetta about to slip from his grasp, Den jumped to his feet and shouted, “She’s mine! She bears my mark! She accepted it willingly! Ask her parents! She never tried to stop me, never called out for help.”
A feral growl rumbled ominously from the Feyreisen’s throat. He bared his teeth, his eyes flashing hot with power and rage. The guards along the walls snapped to tense alertness. “She called tome. I felt her terror, her fear, her outrage across hundreds of miles. Willing? You attacked her in her own home, took advantage of her innocence and her ignorance of your mating rituals to put your filthy mark on her and lay claim to her against her will. You did not know she was myshei’tani. It is the only reason you still draw breath.”
“My Lord Feyreisen!” The king snapped. “You will not threaten Our subjects in Our presence.”
Rain’s head whipped around. The torches on the wall flared violently, making the crowd gasp. “Then your subjects had best not lay claim to the Tairen Soul’s mate,” he hissed. It was not a ruler, not a man of peace, who looked out from Rain’s face, but a fierce predator, barely caged. No one in Celieria had seen a Tairen Soul in a thousand years, and no one—not even the king, with his Fey blood—had understood what they were dealing with.
Ellie couldn’t help feeling both fear and a thrill of excitement at the display of primitive possessiveness. His savagery, which should have frightened her witless, made her feel protected instead. She had never known what it was to be wanted so badly by anyone, had never dreamed such a thing could happen to her. A tide of longing swept over her, drowning out her fear of magic, her nightmares, even Selianne’s warning not to let the Fey control her mind.
She looked at Rain’s hands, now clenched into tight fists. She remembered the feel of them sliding into her hair, remembered the closeness of his arms pulling her tight, the way his voice had poured over her like honeyed cream as he spoke the Fey words ofshei’tanitsaclaiming, Ver reisa ku’chae. Kem surah, shei’tani.Your soul calls out. Mine answers, beloved. She remembered the warmth and security she had felt with the sound of his heart beating in her ear. Heat bloomed in her breasts and belly, a tingling heat that made her skin feel two sizes too small.
Rain drew a hissing breath, and his eyes, glowing like beacons, fastened on her face. Need, hot and urgent, rolled over her, scorching her, bringing every nerve in her body to quivering life. She could almost feel his desire, like hands, stroking her through the fabric of her gown, touching the aching tightness of her breasts, the liquid heat gathering in her loins. Her breath came very fast, and a fine trembling started in her belly, radiating outward. “Dear gods,” she whispered, her eyes starting to lose focus. What was happening to her? “Dear gods.”
