“Marlon is not interested in Minnie. You should know this by now. He merely does it to poke at you.”
I chuckled softly under my breath—more than a little evilly. “Yes, I would cut off his poking tool if he ever tried to use it where it is unwanted.”
“As you have said…again and again.” Mother sounded horribly bored while I wrote my first correspondence. Two more needed to be written: one to my soul mate and one to Caspian. All would be sent by messenger once I changed into clothing fit for snow. “It has been five hundred years, son. Haven’t you learned to trust him by now?”
The fact I was sending Caspian to watch over the castle from afar proved I did not, in fact, trust Marlon completely. “One day, I might. But today is not that day.”
“You are an extremely vexing child.”
“Thank you ever so much, Mother. That is the highest compliment coming from a wraith who simply adores twisting her words to make anyone crazy.” I shook my head and folded up the first letter. “And, if you’ve forgotten, I am no longer a child.”
The soothsayer sniffed snootily from the bed. “You will always be my child, no matter your age.” She listened as I started my second letter, the pencil scratching loudly on the paper, before she asked solemnly, “What are your plans for the dragons and Fairy?”
“I will talk sensibly to the dragons. If that doesn’t work, I’m prepared to use every asset available to me.”
Mother stated calmly, “You mean me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, if it is needed.” I tapped the end of my pencil on the paper, thinking silently for a long moment. The quietness of the room wasn’t soothing, though. I cleared my throat and whispered, “I am sorry, Mother. But your unique brand of vengeance will likely be used on this trip at some point.”
Mother stayed mute until I was done with all three letters. Then she said just as quietly, “Then so it shall be. Even if I don’t enjoy it…I’ll do anything for my Trixie.”
Confession of a king:
For once in my life, I’d simply like to have something good happen to me without the coming of the bad directly afterward.
But I’ve lived enough years in this realm to know that’s not my journey.
For others, yes. Never for me.
So when I do manage to take one step forward…
I brace for impact.
“King Traevon!” Mother shouted from outside my bedroom, banging like a brute on the door, shaking the whole thing. “You are needed out herenow.”
I sucked in a harsh breath and sat up quickly in bed, squinting through the darkness. My attention caught on the woman in bed with me. Her long hair was a tumble of seafoam green curls over the pillow where her head lay, with ruby-colored flower petals covering the entire bed, having dropped from those locks during our sexual activities. Sweet golden eyes were hidden behind her closed lids while her lips were parted gently in her slumber—the quietest snore I’d ever heard whispering past her delicious lips. The blanket was crumpled at our feet, long since kicked aside, showing all her sexy curves.
My soul mate.
I lifted my right hand and rubbed it against my bare chest, where I could feel her presence inside my Fae-spark.
I had a soul mate now.
Finally.
My hand trembled as I leaned over and brushed her soft as silk hair off her cheek, only able to stare down at her beauty, at the woman who had charged right into my life last night and taken ahold of my thoughts like no one before had ever done—I should have known then something was different with her. She would not be a simple pleasure between the sheets. She wasmore. And she wasmine. But now I was left valiantly trying not to Fae fucking cry—tears of happiness and pride. Looking down at her sleeping loveliness, I wouldn’t want her to awaken with her new soul mate and resilient king…bawling like a wee one down onto her pretty face.
That would just not do.
Especially upon waking. Definitely so.
I inhaled deeply and repeatedly blinked, pushing the wetness away from my eyes. I would not let one tear slip right now. My soul mate would not be frightened when I woke her. I never wanted this woman scared in my presence—while other people could be scared down to their Fae-spark.
But my mother was still banging on the Fae damned door, half sounding like she was ready to beat the solid wood to splinters.
“Minnie,” I stated softly and cupped her cheek gently. And….fuck…I didn’t know her last name. There hadn’t been much talking when we’d literally crashed into one another at my party. The urge had taken us for a wild ride. Our clothes had come off far too quickly—and all the weapons she’d had on her person—for mere words to get in the way. “Minnie, love.”
