The luxury of the way Tae lived was astonishing, but I felt comfortable there knowing that he hadn't been raised to expect this either. He had fought for it and earned it. He deserved these things, and I got to enjoy them because he chose to share them with me. That made it special instead of offensive.
“Mari, could you have a pot of tea and some toast sent up?” Tae asked the maid.
“Yes, my lord.”
After we were in the elevator heading upstairs, I asked, “Toast? I mean, the tea is nice.” I lifted my mug. “But aren't you full?”
“Toast comes withbutter, Shane.” Tae gave me a wicked look. “I didn't want to ask her to send up a bowl of butter and nothing else. That would have the entire staff talking.”
“Oh!” I started to smile. “Smart thinking, Falcon Lord.” Then I remembered what I'd kept forgetting to ask him. “Hey, why do you keep introducing me with your last name?”
“Oh, I should have explained that to you.” Tae's naughty look faded into a serious one. “Giving you a piece of my soul also means that I've given you a piece of my magic. That magic is what the Goddess used to transform you. Therefore, you are of my line.”
“Like a son?” I grimaced.
“Similar but we aren't related, the magic is. And so you take my name.”
“Whoa,” I whispered.
“Is that all right?”
“Yeah, it's fine. I was just wondering what it was all about.” I thought about it and added, “Maybe don't mention it to my parents when you meet them.”
“You can still be Ruhara in the human world.”
“If we ever get married, you could take my last name among the humans, then we can have both,” I said without thinking.
“Married, eh?” Taeven lifted a dark-gold brow. “And you want me to take your name?”
“I was just, uh, it was . . . it just came out.” I flushed.
Tae chortled, then pulled me into a kiss. A very hot kiss—both in passion and temperature. We held our mugs of tea to the side as our lips melded, but he pulled me close with his free arm, holding me tight to his chest. Then the elevator chimed, and the panel opened.
Tae pulled back and smiled softly at me. “You're allowed to think about the future, Shane, as long as you don't worry about it. And I'm glad that you see me in it.”
He took my hand and led me through the dark sitting room, into his bedroom, then let me go to turn on the bedside lamps, leaving the chandelier off to give the room a soft illumination that enhanced the moonlight instead of competing with it. I followed him into the dressing room where we disrobed, then re-robed in, well, robes. Tae handed me a thick, cerulean velvet garment, embroidered with gold at the cuffs, while he slid on a black one that turned his hair into shining ribbons.
Taking my hand, he led me into the bathroom—an expanse of pale marble, snowy porcelain, and silver fixtures. For a moment, a glittering view of the city appeared through the picture window behind the tub, drapes pulled open to frame it, but then the lights came on and mirrored the glass. Above us, glass globes hung from the coffered ceiling like a bunch of grapes, each one containing a fae light, and silver-framed mirrors hung over the counter that ran half the length of the room, crowned by falcons with spread wings. The massive tub had a spigot in the shape of a falcon as well, but Tae didn't head toward it. Instead, he went to the shower stall—large enough to fit five—and turned on the spray.
As we shrugged out of our robes, I noted, “Your tub has a spitting falcon.”
“My tub has a what?” Tae looked at the tub and cocked his head in consideration. “I suppose it would be more of a vomiting falcon.”
“Gross.” I squished my face at him while he laughed.
“My lord?” A voice came from the bedroom.
“Just leave it on the dresser, Mari,” Tae called out to her.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Our butter has arrived.” Tae waggled his brows at me. “But first, I want you squeaky clean.”
“I will scrub until I squeak,” I promised. “Then you can get me dirty again.”
We stepped into the shower, and Tae closed the glass panel behind us. As soon as he did, the back wall of the stall lit up and a painting came to life. A forest scene at midday—sun shining onto a meadow in the distance—had been painted on the thick glass wall, unseen until it was illuminated. As I gaped at that, the sound of birdsong came from above me.
“What the fuck is this?” I looked from the painting to the ceiling and back again.
