The first few weeks of their being officially together had, of course, taken some getting used to. Their whole pride shifted in order to make room for her in it and his cabin. They had plans to source more timber to expand the cabin so that Kiri wouldn’t have to live in Akila and Diar’s indefinitely.
The cub had been patient and gracious about it all, taking the changes in stride, but it was Maeve who decided, once things were settled, that they definitely needed to make room for Kiri so that he could go back to a predictable schedule.“Routine is important for youth,”she’d declared.
When Diar and Akila had ribbed Kiri with their elbows, they’d incurred the wrath of Maeve. It was downright terrifying to behold, as it came with a smile.
“Before either of you even think about mating yourselves, you need to get that snoring sorted out. We can hear it from here.”Kiri hooted with laughter as Diar and Akila’s ears flattened in shock, but Maeve wasn’t finished.“Visit my aunt soon, she may have some solutions. We don’t want it interfering with Kiri’s sleep.”
Once they’d left, tails dragged behind them in mortification, Soren had kissed every inch of his terrifying little mate while she wore nothing but a smug smile.
Now, several months on, Soren’s life was filled with happiness and color. The cabin was literally full of it—soft blankets and fabrics, bright colors and fragrant flowers in glossy vases, trinkets littering the mantel, copper pots hanging over the fireplace, and their bed piled high with pillows and cushions. She brought softness and her own taste into the cabin, and Soren was more than happy to make room for all of it. She took histastes into account, too, choosing muted colors for the bed and simpler embellishment and embroidery on his shirts.
But more than the clothes and the cushions, Soren adored climbing into bed each night to cuddle his mate close. He couldn’t remember a night they didn’t fall asleep after long, languid moments of kissing. Sometimes that turned into sweet or fervent or feral lovemaking, but others it led to sharing breath and dreams.
She’d fitted perfectly into his life, settling in to make room for herself and infinitely expanding it. He hoped he gave her even a fraction of what she gave him, strove every day to prove his love and gratitude. Most days he felt like the sunflower following the sun, just wanting to stay in her radiance.
There were times Maeve went back to her family home, and Soren had been there before. He’d met almost all of her family members already, some even before Maeve herself, but never all at once. Namely, her brother Niall was back for a visit, having brought their other brother Calum with him from the capital. Niall and Maeve were close in more than just age—Soren knew, instinctively, that Niall would be the hardest to win over.
Maeve had been coaching him on this for over a fortnight. How to ingratiate himself to her father, how to charm her mother, how to make Niall laugh. He nodded along to her instruction, not sure he’d be able to pull off any of it.
At least he was already friendly with Sorcha, Orek, Connor, and Blaire.
With his shirt tucked neatly and belt buckled straight, Soren had finished dressing. It was only supposed to be a family luncheon, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think this wasn’t about assessing him. It was his chance to prove to all of them that he was the right one for shining, brilliant Maeve.
Soren wouldn’t fail.
The last thing to do was run a comb through his mane.Another improvement since she’d come to live with him was the flattering cut of his mane. Even though it’d taken over an hour and she hadn’t cut much, the difference was notable. The shape suited his head better and showed off the lines of his ears. Once his brothers had seen him, they all insisted on Maeve trimming their manes, too.
Clean, clothed, and brushed, Soren declared, “I’m ready,” and turned around to see if she needed help lacing her stays. He was getting quite good at it, actually—especially unlacing them.
Soren’s mouth fell open when he turned to see what his mischievous mate was wearing. “What isthat?” he nearly choked.
“You mean my underthings?” she asked, batting her lashes innocently.
He’d seen plenty of her underthings by now, and they’d never looked likethat.
A confection of lilac silk and gossamer crisscrossed her body. He recognized the familiar shape of stays, although the bodice and cups were nearly transparent against her bare skin, her pink nipples teasing the gossamer. Ribbons wound around her torso as though she was a gift to unwrap; the garment that covered the apex of her legs was barely two ribbons wide and didn’t—he gulped—seem to have a gusset. Ribbons also connected her silk stockings to an embroidered garter at her waist, emphasizing her curves and the long lines of her legs.
“Oh, yes, this. It’s a little different to my usual stays.” Winking, Maeve sauntered closer, and Soren worried she’d be able to knock him over with a flick of her fingers. He managed to stay upright as she ran a fingertip over his chest, a siren’s smile teasing her lips. “I thought perhaps it’d distract you from worrying about luncheon.”
Soren gritted his teeth. He seriously doubted it. “Eremi, please tell me you’re not wearing just that to luncheon?”
“Of course not,” she scoffed. “Mybrotherswill be there. Yeuch. No, this is just for you.” With another wink, she picked up the pretty green gown she meant to wear, the one that matched his eyes. She handed it to him to hold as she slipped inside. Pushing her arms through the short sleeves and pulling her hair from the back, she smiled at him again. “Only you’ll know exactly what’s beneath.”
A violent purr erupted from Soren’s chest, saliva flooding his mouth as he reached to take her by the waist and draw her into his body. He needed to take a bite out of his little morsel of a mate.
“You’re a cruel woman,” theturukteased her.
Maeve just waggled her brows. “No, I’m a kind, giving, grateful mate,” she whispered, leaning up on her toes for a kiss.
Soren obliged, licking her tongue to steal some of her sweetness for himself.
Ibás, hiseremiwas determined to get him stiff and hard right before meeting her family. Not even the thought of her stern knightly father could wilt his ardor when he had her warm, lithe body pressed to his.
“Let me see you again,” he rumbled, already greedy to run his paws over all that silky skin and fabric.
“Hmm, but then we’ll be late.”
“We won’t if we fly.”
