Page 19 of Wicked Things

“What is that? Those words—Mo stór? What does it mean?”

“It’s an old Gaelic phrase. Roughly translated, it means ‘my treasure.’”

I was a little startled by that. I suppose it could be taken two ways. As a sweet endearment or literally, as in the fact that from what he’d told me about all of this, my father was giving away a kingdom to get someone to take me as a royal consort. He’d never said so, but I wondered if that meant I was going to be his consort. I was still letting that sink in when his next words made me jump a little.

“Take off your clothes, Braden. It’s time for bed.”

“W-what?”

Could I do that? Should I do that? It was a hell of a time to wonder, but in my defense, I’d been rushed into this, with little say in the matter. My mind had been fully occupied so far. I liked to say all the time that I was a grown man, though, and I felt as if I was. I’d been on my own for a long time now, since my grandmother had passed away. I wasn’t in the mortal realm anymore, and I was beyond attracted to this beautiful man.

“You want to make love to me?” I asked.

“I do. I think we should see if you like sex with a man before we go any further, don’t you think?”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then your room adjoins mine. I would never force myself on you, mo chroi.”

“Oh.”

“Because I was teasing you earlier. The man you are to marry will be… me. If you agree.”

“Oh my God.” I was so shocked my mouth dropped open. Even though I’d just wondered if he wanted my father’s kingdom. He closed my mouth with his finger under my chin.

“You can refuse me, if you don’t want this. But if you do, your father will simply choose someone else for you. I’ll do my best to help you, as I’m the one who brought you to Otherworld. You need to tell me if you don’t want this. I’ll honor your wishes.”

“N-no!” I said, taking a step closer to him. “I didn’t know you were the one I was supposed to marry. Of course, I’ll marry you. If-if you want me to.”

He looked surprised, but I meant it. Maybe it was simply a case of the devil you know, but I’d been stunned by his good looks and his strong attitude and attracted to him and infuriated by him since the first moment I saw him. He filled my thoughts and made my heart dance.

And if I were honest, though I’d never been able to admit my attraction to other men ever before—not even to myself—the idea of being with someone like Fionn excited me. I didn’t want anyone else, and never would, despite how he was with me sometimes. How relentlessly he teased me and flirted with me, but on the other hand I simply couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Not once I’d seen Fionn. The idea of being his…his consort made me feel fluttery inside. I couldn’t imagine being without him now that I knew I had an option.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t understand before. You should have trusted me enough to tell me what was happening from the beginning.”

He looked down into my eyes, and I could see his softening. “You’re right. I thought it would frighten you too much, but I can see now that wasn’t what frightened you at all. I’m sorry, Braden. I’ll try to do better in the future. Can you forgive me?”

I nodded, wondering who this was and what he’d done with King Fionn. I slipped my hand into his. I had nobody else in this place, in this entire realm, and I needed to trust someone badly. I decided it would have to be him, and I hoped he wouldn’t disappoint me.

He actually smiled at me then as if he’d read my chaotic thoughts and squeezed my hand. “Tomorrow morning we’ll see the priest. Don’t worry…it will all be over in a few minutes and then we’ll have the rest of our lives.”

It was all moving way too quickly, and it made me feel a little dizzy. Maybe it was time for me to do as I pleased. And part of that would be for me to sleep in the same bed as this glorious man. Except—it wouldn’t be sleeping, would it?

I began slowly taking my tunic off over my head. I couldn’t see any way out of sleeping with the king, and I didn’t want to anyway.

I knew he didn’t love me obviously—nor did I love him. Not really. But this had nothing to do with love. I’d only known him a couple of days now and had engaged in almost no meaningful conversation with him in that time. This was all about him taking possession and staking his claim. Maybe a little about obligation and keeping to his bargains too, but I didn’t think there was anything more than that. Not on his part anyway. As for mine—that was a different story.

I could have lingered a lifetime over how beautiful he was, with his porcelain skin, and his mass of black hair, thick and soft under my fingers, and those incredible eyes, as richly green as emeralds.

He watched me decide as I stood there looking at him. He was waiting, and I wondered in an almost detached kind of way what he would do if I declined. I knew he wouldn’t force me, but he’d have been…disappointed in me? Was that the right word? He’d have thought I was braver than that, wouldn’t he? I wasn’t naïve enough to believe this was any more than it was. I was a bargain he’d made with my natural father, and Faeries took bargains very seriously. Not as much as the Elves, but still seriously indeed. I’d never thought of myself as any kind of bargain or prize, but if that was truly what he thought I was, then he had a far better opinion of me than I did of myself. And why would I not want that in my life?

He watched me closely, as I revealed my upper body to him by pulling off my tunic and again as I slipped down the linen trousers underneath. Since I wasn’t wearing anything under them, I was now fully exposed to him, and a little shiver of excitement ran through me as he looked up and down my moon pale body, and it was then that I saw him notice my scars.

They were pretty hard to miss, come to think of it, especially standing here in the firelight. He came closer until he was almost touching me and his hand reached out to lightly trace the ghostly, silver lines on my chest. They’d been there since I was five years old, so they were faded to the point that they could only be seen if a person were to be standing close, like Fionn was, and there was light shining directly on me. He glanced up at my face.

“What happened here, mo stór?”

“My mother killed herself when I was a little boy, and she wanted to take me with her. She tried to cut out my heart.”