He strokes the bridge of my nose, smoothing out the rumples. “What’s with the grimace?”
I twist my lips.
He slides a knuckle beneath my chin to tip my head up. “Tell me.”
“How I smell to you?”
He snorts. When he notices that his snort doesn’t ease my qualms, he spins me. “You smell like my mate. Intoxicating. All-consuming.” Cathal drags his nose over my forehead then through the part in my hair, his jaw hair tangling with my pink strands. “You smell like my home.” His nostrils suddenly flare so wide they waft air. He mutters that word again: “Cockblocker.”
Before I can enquire as to what it means, he plucks my hand and pulls me out of our little cocoon of privacy.
“Once I shift, get on my back.”
I’m guessing the distance to Lorcan’s chambers must be quite great if we must fly there. Crow-Cathal crouches and extends a wing, which he nods to, apparently urging me to use the appendage as a ladder. My climb is hesitant. Though he doesn’t flinch, each time my bare feet squash feathers, I do. Stepping on his wingmusthurt, no? Once settled astride him, I loop my arms around his neck and lean forward.
He jumps into the air, then soars down the hallway before surging through the same hatch we used to enter the castle. I imagined we’d remain indoors but open air must be more agreeable for the shifter’s impressive wingspan.
I feel his shoulders roll against my thighs, see his wings tilt, and then he’s snapping them, soaring so fast, that I lean forwardeven more. The male is evidently impatient to get the meeting over with. So am I…
I’m very much looking forward to picking up where we left off. And sit astride Cathal in flesh. Just the thought of it has my pulse quickening, pounding hard against my wide leather belt. Especially when my mind begins to turn over the images my grandmother had shared about the rubbing of naked bodies.
But then my imaginings come to a hasty halt, because the rubbing of two bodies results in babes, and Cathal doesn’t want any more. Does that mean we can never explore each other, or are there methods to prevent reproduction? I nibble on my lip, deciding to ask Asha later.
Not for the first time, I wish I could’ve been reborn with a complete understanding of our world. Since my frustration won’t help me figure out how my human body works, I press the emotion away and focus on the land that stumbles out on either side of the castle. Sure enough, the vistas rid me of any and all worries, for they are spectacular. On one side, a raging river carves down a gilded, amber forest; on the other sprawls a luxuriant jungle that melts into dunes of honeyed sand.
I suddenly envy Lore for having such varied landscapes. Shabbe may be lush, but it’s all pink stone, green foliage, and aquamarine water. I’m glad Kanti wants the isle, for I much prefer to stay here. The thought of Behati’s grandchild has me squinting around Luce. Where is it that she was sent again? Beyond the desert or on one of the land tiles near where Fallon was crowned queen? I wonder if she’s met the enemy she was destined to seduce. And then I stop wondering because Cathal is diving through another hatch.
Like the last time he landed, he morphs into flesh before my feet can touch the ground and catches me around the waist. For a moment, he just holds me with both his arms and eyes, butthen he sets me down and brushes a feather-light kiss to my lips that renders me breathless.
He steals my fingers and clasps them tight as we traipse down a short hallway toward an enormous wooden door that’s already propped open. The instant we step over the threshold and into the vast stone chamber, everyone seated around the wooden table turns toward us, everyone being Lorcan’s Siorkahd, our daughter, her grandfather, and my grandmother.
Cathal’s fingers tighten as though he’s suddenly worried someone may try to wrench us apart. In truth, Taytah, who sits between Justus and Fallon, does seem inclined to do so, what with her tapered stare and pursed lips. Everyone else either seems glad to see us or disinterested by our hand-holding.
“You look well, Zendaya.” Lorcan gifts me a rare smile that doesn’t quite reach his tired eyes.
I’m guessing the coronation was followed by a party and, perhaps, even some diplomatic talks considering all four monarchs were together. From what I’ve gleaned, it was the first time in several centuries.
“Has Nebba and Glace departed?” Cathal slides a chair out for me to sit in, his fingers still firm around mine.
Does the male truly worry he’ll lose me if he lets go? If we’d been at ocean level, I suppose his fear could’ve been warranted, but so far above the clouds, the only way out of Lorcan’s castle is up, and neither Taytah nor I have wings.
“Eponine has, but Vlad and his entourage are currently lodging in Isolacuori, waiting for us to return to smooth over the finer details of our alliance. They’ve reiterated their hope that we’ll arrange a marriage between the next generation.”
Cathal’s gaze soars toward Fallon. “What next generation?”
“Relax, Dádhi. There is no next generation yet.” She pats her belly, and I realize they’re discussing babes, which makes me sit up straighter. “You’d totally be the first to know.” She offers hima smile which he’s too tense to reciprocate, while my palm drifts to my hollow abdomen.
What if Cathal’s wrong in assuming we’d create a monster?
What if Cathal’s right, and we do?
Perhaps Behati can foresee or my grandmother can ask the Mahananda?
“Vladimir enquired about a possiblemelihapbetween Shabbe and Glace.” The Shabbin Queen rests her elbows on the table.
Fallon gapes at her, before gasping out a, “What?” while I lean toward Cathal to murmur, “Melihap?” hoping he’ll define it for me.
The male’s so entirely focused on my grandmother that I don’t think he’s even heard me, butshemust have, for she explains, “Amelihapis a coming together of two nations after a period of hostility. A union of sorts.”
