Fifty-One
Cara
The desire I always felt for Fear, which had to be the bond, but perhaps was more than bond, always felt as if it were burning just under my skin. I caught the collar of his shirt and pulled his mouth to mine.
His lips met mine without hesitation, warm and soft and tender. He had kissed me so many times to serve our purposes. Now he only kissed me because he wished to.
He drew me onto his lap. His arm around my waist anchored me, but I quickly moved to straddle his lap instead. I was the one this time to deepen the kiss, teasing the tip of my tongue against the seam of his mouth until his lips parted.
Forgiveness might take time. But we had time.
And for now, we had this. The bond between us. The way we were aligned against the world.
And the desire.
Fear’s hand slid against the skin of my waist, then up, gliding under my shirt, igniting sparks everywhere he touched.
My fingers tangled in his dark hair as his tongue teased mine. I wanted more of him. His hand found my breast and cupped it, his thumb sliding over my nipple through the fabric just the way I liked, and I ground against his lap, seeking more of him.
He drew the tunic up to press a kiss near the sigil, his lips just above the swell of my breast, and I ran my fingers through his dark hair, drawing his mouth to my skin. He went on kissing and sucking, his fingers teasing over the swell of my breast, the sigil. His hand pushed down the material, seeking my skin.
There was one fast knock at the door. Then it was already flying open, and Maura came through. “We’ve got trouble.”
As soon as she saw what we were doing, she averted her gaze, looking away through the window, but she did not pause. “A contingent of Fae just arrived. They would like to negotiate.”
“I doubt that very much.” Fear pulled my tunic down, fixing it in place. The broad warmth of his hand paused on my waist.
“With Cara, not with you.” Maura still did not look at the two of us. “Either you get that armor on her or I do.”
“What happened?” I rose from Fear’s lap, pulling the tunic off without ceremony. I cared more for my life than my modesty.
Fear already had the armor; he was pulling it over my head as soon as I was ready. It settled over me like a second skin.
Maura finally met my gaze. Mine, not Fear’s. “There’s a Fae escort of eight. Powerful. Probably a trap.”
“An escort? Escort for whom?” Fear demanded.
Maura’s voice softened slightly. “Tay.”
Something tightened in my chest. “He ran straight for the queen.”
“And she sent him right back to you for a reason.”
Maura had my knife belt, and she was putting it around my waist before I had time to reach for it. Fear’s face leaned near mine as he focused on closing the buckles at my throat.
“We all know what this is.” Maura’s gaze slid between us as if she wished to verify we were not fools.
“If we can do so safely, I want to see my brother.”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew this was a trap, too, and I wasn’t going to risk my life walking into it alone. But I trusted the two of them to keep me safe if they said there was a way.
Fear nodded. “We need to know what they want. We will be ready whatever the threat.”
“I saw Dairen on my way to you,” Maura said. “He’s gathering the rest of Bismyth. There are far more than eight of us.”
“The Fae have their powers.” He studied her. “You read the situation well and handled it perfectly. Thank you for your help.”
She scoffed. But of course she cared what he thought. She always had.
