“You can go stuff your ‘not a child’ excuse,” Bo continued, his hand gentle on Ever’s arm, thumb rubbing one of his wrists. “And for saying we’re only part bonded, Ever found me through that wisp’s dampening spell in one ofyourforests where one ofyourdryads got himself partially flash fried becausemyscared ass used magic throughourbond. If that’s only ‘partial’, we better all be really fucking happy for that, ’cause the whole forest would’ve gone up if what I saw was just runoff from a halfway knitted bond.”
“You have my soul,” Ever murmured, barely a whisper against Bo’s ear. “Torn or no, it rests with you.”
“Mutual,” Bo answered, equally soft. “Really fucking mutual, Ever.”
Bo could feel Ever’s smile, faint, against his hair where no one else could see it.
Three fucking days and there they were, pledging their damn souls. Fucking fae and their thing with threes.
“Now, see? They’re cute. How isn’t that cute?” Wyte was grinning again. “The guy has a point. If we’re weighing out Ever’s soul here, Bo’s got most of it. He proved that.”
“He proved that Everil recklessly allowed a dangerous human to attack one of ours.” Velriks turned her pale gaze to Ever. “Nimai was good for you. And, despite how you wronged him, he is willing to have you back. Instead, you sully yourself with a human.”
Of fucking course, she only looked at Ever to say shit like that. Ever’s grip tightened around Bo, guilt and fury flaring brightly between them. Bo fucking hated that guilt. Hated how it turned to shame, even when he clung to Bo.
“CouncilorVelriks,” Wyte’s voice stayed light and playful, but Bo knew the addition of edged mockery when he heard it, “maybe this pretty glass house isn’t the best place for a stone throwing contest. Though if you really want to play ‘never have I ever sullied myself with a human,’ I’m not against getting the whole Council drunk.”
“The whole Council?” Charil asked, their seaweed mane perking with sudden interest. “Not just our committee?”
“Yep.” Wyte said it with a sharp pop to the ‘p.’
“My point is that even if this is a bond, it is unsuitable.”
“I believe,” the towering, moss-bearded fae at Wyte’s side spoke for the first time, their voice stone against stone, “that the Council will not be well served by gaining a reputation for passing judgment on whom one joins their soul to, let alone whom they might lie with. We are asking if there is a bond, not whether there should be.”
“I’m afraid I must agree with Councilor Teth,” Fiadh, sad eyed, spoke as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her. Her haunting voice reminded Bo of distant shores and cold green hills. “There were those speaking against Saliese and I, once. Do you remember? For my…” She hesitated, shooting her dryad bond a furtive look. “For my engagements.”
“He stole yourpelt, Councilor Fiadh,” Velriks met Fiadh’s eyes, her disgusted expression barely softening. “That’s not the same.”
“Maybe not. But if the Council of the time had judged bonds, I’d still be voiceless on that rock.” Fiadh looked so fucking small. “Or killed, to leave her free. I disapprove of this entire ugly situation. Theideaof them. Even so, with all that I know, I must cast my voice with Councilor Teth.”
Fiadh’s bond shot her a concerned look, bark-textured fingers coming to rest on the selkie’s. Because Bo was certain that’s what she was.
“At last, we progress.” Tiny Yenah’s wings fluttered with what Bo guessed was impatience. “Any further objections?”
Again, the glade filled with murmurs and looks shared between bonds. The unicorn and the phoenix looked mutinous. The selkie, sad.
“I still say this is beneath us,” Velriks complained primly, as her horn shifted through pearlescent shades. “But if this means not having to continue watching the pair of them, very well.”
“Can I put in a voteforwatching?“ Wyte finally leaned forward, his expression shifting from sympathetic to leering. “I mean if it’s on the menu.”
The clearing of a throat, or maybe actual laughter, sounded from Teth. It was all gravel on gravel on boulder, anyway. “I highly doubt it is.”
“Definitely not on the menu.” Somehow, Bo managed to sound cheerful. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.”
“Can’t blame a bunny for trying.” Wyte gestured vaguely toward the edge of the clearing. “You’re late, you’re late, and so forth. Let’s get this over with.”
“We’ve all voiced our thoughts,” Yenah said, with another restless flutter of wings. “Charil and I will see them to the first judge, unless any of you wish to claim the honor.”
Fiadh shuddered, her face twisted into a mask of disgust and fear. The others looked similarly uncomfortable. Only Teth and Wyte looked undisturbed by the idea.
“Nah.” Wyte winked at Bo again. “Tell him ‘hi’ for me, though.”
“We’ve had our fill ofthatsort of company.” The dryad’s words came with a disapproving rustle. “How he weaseled his way onto the panel is beyond me. By all means, take the risk with that–”
“Councilor Saliese.” Yenah said quietly, though not soft. She stared at the dryad, lightning crackling over her hair, and that near constant small smile gone. “I strongly advise against disrespecting these judges.”
The dryad stilled. After a moment, she said, stiffly, “We’ll not request the honor.”
