Page 36 of Kiss of Smoke

“I might’ve teleported into your bathroom…” he said reluctantly, and Gwyn shook his head, some of the disgruntlement leaving him.

“You teleported in and kissed my chest,” he clarified. “And you can’t tell me you weren’t going in for a fondle—”

Jack’s ears were going to be purple soon. “On a level whereBriallen’s faceshould’ve been.”

“Maybe look before you go planting that frozen mug of yours where it doesn’t belong—”

I sat on Robin’s bed, letting myself laugh for real. It had been so long since I hadn’t been under a massive weight of stress, and nothing had seemed funny.

Now it seemed like if I got what I wanted—all three of my guys, in a house that felt like home—I was going to be laughing a lot.

I loved it. It was so much more than I ever could’ve asked for.

Robin handed me a tissue to wipe my eyes before my mascara could start running.

“I’m so glad you’re all here,” I said, looking up at them. My mouth hurt from smiling, but that was a good thing.

Jack took my hand and pulled me up off the bed, hauling me in for a real hug. “We are, too,” he told me in my ear. “All mishaps aside.”

Gwyn snickered, clearly over the entire thing, and then threw his arms around us. Jack stiffened in surprise for only a moment, then I held out an arm to Robin. “Come on. Group hug.”

Robin made a face, but Gwyn grabbed him by the jacket and hauled him in. “She said group hug, Goodfellow. Over there is not in the group.”

Blessed Branches, did it make me a ditz if I really wanted to squeal and jump up and down right now?

All three of them happily hugged me, each vying for space, but despite their differences they were going out of their way to make it happen.

It wasn’t until Sisse landed on Robin’s head, scattering pixie dust, and softly said, “It’s time,” that my feelings of warmth and protection faded a little.

Outside this house, the world was pressing in, and a funeral awaited us.

We silently parted, but I felt with all of them around me that I could finally step out into that world and face it head on again.

The royal funeralwas held in a grove. It was quiet, the willows drooping with deep violet leaves as though bent under the weight of the queen’s sadness.

All of Avilion seemed to cease to exist in this part of the royal Seelie gardens, where only Queen Titania herself was permitted to walk.

We were completely walled in by the trees, and I had surreptitiously reached out to them as we’d entered.

They were all dense with magic, sleepy with age. It was, like Thornwood, one of those places of old magic.

There were very few Fae in attendance. The Queen herself stood in front of the pyre, where Tanaquill’s form lay. She’d been wreathed with pale flowers, white roses seeming to blossom from her hair.

Noctifer was in full armor, at the queen’s side, and besides myself and the guys, there were only a few select Gentry Fae.

One woman was weeping openly, dabbing at her eyes, but something about it seemed affected—Tanaquill’s funeral was only a place for her to act out her little fantasies of sorrow and woe.

It wasn’t lost on me that some of those Gentry were already whispering among themselves, asking the question most pertinent to them—who would become Titania’s heir now?

The weeping woman was probably already plotting how to pull herself up a rung now that the princess was gone.

My lips twisted downwards, and I focused solely on Tanaquill, and the long pale fingers folded over her stomach.

I wished I’d done more for her.

If we’d just kept going, instead of turning back, would we have found her? Had she torn off her own clothes and jewelry in desperation to leave us a trail, and we’d failed her completely?

I didn’t realize I’d sighed aloud until Robin took my hand, squeezing it gently.

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