“And it’s our only option,” Gerrie finished for them.
Viggo slumped against the table in defeat. But Noren didn’t relent.
“And what’s your plan for getting us out of there?”
“I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of female. I’ll figure it out,” Gerrie said. She knew she wasn’t instilling much confidence, but she couldn’t care less.
“There’s one problem—actually, there’s more than one, but something glaringly obvious that we need to deal with,” Noren said, scowling.
Gerrie didn’t respond, only quirked a brow, waiting for him to get it off his chest.
At her silence, Noren continued. “We can’t trust you, we most certainly cannot trust whatever hair-brained plan you come up with. And, if memory serves, the last time we were all tied up, you did not free us. How do we know this would be any different?”
His points were valid—she’d given them no reason to trust her, which meant she only had one card to play.
“Because of Solveig,” she said simply. Gerrie leaned forward, earnest now as the sands of time shifted around them. “Solveig sent me on this mission with you. She trusts me, and since she’s your prince’s mate, you trust her.”
Viggo glanced at Noren before turning back to her. “I’d trust Solveig even if she wasn’t West’s mate,” he said without further explanation. By the look on Noren’s face, he agreed. He sighed in defeat.
“Alright then. Let’s get pretend-captured.”
Northlayinherbed, wide awake.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Those words played over and over again in her mind. The repercussions of her answer fully hit when, the next day, the palace was bustling with preparations.
Apparently when Vali had asked, he had meant right away.
It made sense—they were on the cusp of war, and anything that gave them a leg up couldn’t wait.
Still, she hadn’t had time to get used to the idea since she was still reeling from the discovery that Munin was not her true mate. She’d never thought it possible to tamper with a bond, so she hadn’t questioned it.
Based on what she’d heard about the nature of bonds, it had been real. She had felt the presence of his soul, deep in hers. While they hadn’t been able to speak mind to mind, that wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Some bonds were stronger than others, and each pair was different. North had assumed that because she was infinitely more powerful than Munin, his mind couldn’t hold hers. She’d held out hope though.Sometimes, the more physical a couple was, the stronger the bond became over time.
It made sense now why he never pushed for it, why he had not tried to persuade her to bed more. She’d thought it was romantic—him wanting to build the tension between them, only talking of pleasure but rarely indulging.
And she hadn’t minded.
Out of all her siblings, North was the least experienced when it came to sex, despite being the eldest. Not that she hadn’t had any sex. It was just never something she considered a necessity in her life.
She knew she was an oddity, and often felt out of place when it came to the Fae—a notoriously raunchy bunch. The sex she’d had was good, but by no means was she sitting around their dining room table listening to her siblings’ exploits thinking that any of it was true.
Once, she’d confided in Easta, worried that what she had with Munin was out of the norm. As a Fae male, he should want his mate—need her desperately. Easta assured her that it would come with time.
She was shy in bed, and perhaps he was as well. With the right partner, she would discover things about herself, about her power that she never thought possible. So North had looked forward to their mating, towards that life-altering connection with her mate.
But she had no mate. It had all been a lie.
All she had now was an arranged marriage and a lifetime of what would probably be friendly sex, designed to create heirs.
She liked Vali—he was kind and funny, gentle and pleasing to look at. But he was an Elven, a more passive race despite their more natural instincts.
North sank lower in her bed and lay in her self-pity a moment longer. She did not need passion to be happy, she told herself. Passion was overrated.
