Butfiery Bel’s balls, she looks devastating beside me. Her beauty is exquisite but it’s her aura, her soul that calls to me. She’s a true queen, sitting straight, looking ahead to each male present, not swayed by their eyes.
“Sleep well?” I ask, voice low.
Those dark eyes glare at me. “Very. Especially as I had the bed to myself.”
I smile, even though her words irritate me like nails on glass. “I thought I’d find a pillow smothering me if I attempted to lay beside you.” Or, rather, me to her.
“You’d be right.” She scans me, trying to see issue with my appearance. Dressed only in a black tunic and leather pants, I’m more casual now than I was last night. “I assume you found a place to rest your head.”
Smirking, my fingers dig into her thigh, pulling her toward me. The subtle scent of her jealousy pulls at my black heart. “Not like knowing another might have shared my bed?”
“Thankful, actually,” she bites out. “Better them than me.”
I chuckle. She’s as territorial as I am. Her jealousy smells like a fresh bouquet of flowers in the height of summer. “We both know you would rather it be you under me,” I drawl.
I get an annoyed look in response. She’s in rare mood this morning, but it’s to be expected. In fact, I cherish it. If she’s fighting me, she’s not running off into danger.
Or running from me.
“I was wondering if we would meet the future queen,” Fenrir greets, drawing our attention his way. “I must say, I’m intrigued.”
“That’s a big word for you, Fenrir,” I taunt, flicking my fingers. “Be intrigued, from afar.” My hand doesn’t move off my mate, and I make sure Fenrir sees it.
Taking my other side, Fee sits gracefully, Reid darting in through the doors to capture the last chair beside Max. I planned it this way, a formed threat against everyone here. Together, we can protect Max from the dangers at this court.
The servants begin to serve the food, piling some on every plate. More nectar is served to the Woodland Fae and my siblings each have their cup filled with rare rudehare blood; a delicacy in our world. I opt to go without.
“Is it drugged?” Max asks suspiciously. Her eyes dart around us, the Fae focusing on their drink and food and not our private conversation.
Leaning close, I nuzzle her neck. She moves her head, allowing me access. I don’t think she knows she does it, her eyes trained on the food as if it will bite her. But it soothes the bond to see her so complacent.
“No. I don’t need to remind you that you may not have chains, but you are not free.” I press a soft kiss her to neck and she tenses. I’m not thrilled with that. “Be a good pet, and the food may remainthat way. Misbehave, and everything will be doused in that binding agent again.”
She turns, frowning. Her anger licks against my skin like a physical flame and I grin, enjoying her ire.
Good. Now she feels what I do.
The pang in my heart at the look of betrayal tries to take me, but I refuse. This is protection for her. When I can, I’ll explain. But until then? I will not feel guilty for keeping her safe.
“Eat, kitten. Or I will hold you down and force it down your throat.” My finger brushes her neck. “Although, if anything is being forced down this beautiful throat, I’d rather it not be food but rather my?—”
She shifts, heels stomping into my toe, cutting me off. Pulling away, I wince even as I grin. Indecision wars in her eyes—fight me, or play along—and I internally enjoy it. Her fight is her best quality; it rouses me, gives me something to focus on instead of the agony in my heart.
Sullenly, she sniffs the cool herbal tea, tipping the edge to her tongue. When she doesn’t detect the tang of the drug, her shoulders drop and she takes a fuller sip.
This isn’t a favor for her. The drug I used, only a small dose is needed to bind her powers. But because she must fight me oneverything, I had to lace all her food—and water—with the drug in order to make sure it got into her system. We’re just lucky we had the recipe in an old book given to me by Aoife.
She has enough now that she can go a few days without it. Long enough to gain her trust, or at least put her at ease. Maybe get more weight on her body. She’s too thin after weeks refusing to eat.
She shifts, grabbing a fork to eat the fruit when I see a flash of a dagger at her hip.
My sister’s dagger. A matching pair, I gave them to Fee before our journey to Griffin’s castle.
Leaning back, my shoulder bumps into her, but Fee doesn’t look away from her plate. “You gave her a dagger?”
“Yes.” She’s not the least bit affronted, pale lips biting into a piece of something green.
“Do you want to see my mate kill me?” Our eyes clash and she smirks.
