“I am.” Smashing her against his chest, his voice rumbled in his chest. “And I am never leaving your side again.”
She pulled back as he lowered her to the floor. His eyes caught hers, full of meaning. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I’m sorry for not believing you, Bree.” He cupped her cheek. “I should have listened to you. I was just…”
Scared.
“It’s all right.” She smiled up at him. “All that matters is you’re here now.”
Ethne coughed. Heat rushed into Bree’s cheeks. In her excitement at seeing Taveon, she’d forgotten they had an audience. Shifting on her feet, she turned to face the crowd.
“Very heartwarming,” Ethne said. “But Taveon still can’t sit on that throne. Sorry, Taveon.”
“It’s fine,” he said tightly. “I always knew it would happen. I had just hoped…”
“Well, I have no problem with where you came from, frankly,” Norah said to him. “I’ll take over ruling this court for now, and I’d like to appoint you as my Hand, if you’d take the role. It’s your choice, of course, and I will not be offended if you say no. It’s quite the step down from being the king, I understand.”
Bree smiled when Taveon gazed at her old friend. Through the bond, Bree could feel the wheels of his mind turning. Deep down, she knew how he felt about ruling, even if he’d never admit it out loud. He’d taken the throne because he felt a duty to do so, not because he enjoyed wearing a crown. He thought it was the best way to lead Underworld toward a better future, and he hadn’t trusted anyone else to do a better job.
Taveon didn’t know Norah, but he’d heard Bree speak about her often enough to understand the kind of person she was. She’d brought Otherworld together when they’d been split apart for years. They’d been at odds, fighting against each other, trying to rip each other apart.
She’d brought peace to the light fae realm. Maybe she could lead this world to peace, too.
He shuddered, running a hand down his tired face. “If we make it out of this alive, I would be honored.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Ethne cut in with a frown. “That doesn’t solve my biggest issue with this. Otherworld and Underworld are two very separate realms. They can’t be ruled by one person.”
“We’re working that part out,” Bree told her.
No one else made any arguments against the plan. Instead, they turned their attention on the approaching army when a scout rushed in the open door and delivered the news they’d all been dreading. The demon army was only a couple of hours away. And even though the walls were manned with warriors, Bree did not think they were in any way prepared.
* * *
Bree quickly bathed and donned a fresh pair of fighting leathers. If she engaged in the fight, she’d shift into her Redcap form, but she felt more grounded in these clothes for now. They made her feel like the warrior she was.
As she gazed down at the leather straps, she tried to calm her racing heart. The demons were here. They would attack this place. Every fae might die. She shuddered to imagine what the world would become if they failed.
A knock sounded on her door. She crossed the room and pulled it open to find Taveon leaning against the doorframe. Bree had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t felt him coming toward her. But now that he was here...
Her breath caught. His damp hair curled around the sharp tips of his ears, and his strong jaw clenched with a need she felt coiling her core. All her tangled emotions from their jagged past rose up around her, threatening to trap her in their peaks.
Taveon strode in and cupped her cheek, kicking the door shut behind him. His lips were on her a breath later, hot and electric. Her toes curled in her boots as she leaned into him, as she wound her arms around his neck and tugged him close.
Now that he was here, she never wanted to let him go.
He pulled back and searched her gaze. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time.”
“Then don’t stop,” she whispered back.
“We don’t have much time. The horn will blow any minute now,” he murmured.
“I don’t care. Just take me.”
His mouth claimed hers. His hand slid down her face, stopping when his thumb reached the hollow of her throat. With a soft growl, he pressed harder, tightening his grip on her neck. She melted against his touch, need spiking inside her.
Taveon backed her up against the wall and pulled at her leathers. Flushed, she reached for the belt around his trousers, her trembling hands fumbling with the buckle. She needed him. Right now. Any second longer without him buried inside of her and she might very well explode from her overwhelming desire for him.
And she could feel that same emotion churning through the bond.
He pulled back and undid his belt. She sucked in a gasp of cool air and pulled her clothes off with a quickness while Taveon shrugged off his own. His ridged abs were a sight to behold, and his impressive length strained toward her, throbbing with a need she felt between her aching thighs.
