Page 24 of The Rebel Seer

But he’s been kind of an asshole today, so I’m willing to risk it. Maybe I won’t miss his annoyed ass at all. I do a quick pros and cons list. The man is a sex god. I have zero intention of staying virginal all my life, so why not do it with the sex god I’m irritated with?

I pull him out into the rain he’s creating. The two Cwn Annwn who follow us don’t seem to mind the rain. One of them starts doing zoomies and the other wags his massive tail.

“Shy,” Rhys insists, planting his feet in the grass that is still too high from his earlier issues. “I am not going to make love to you because you want to control me. My father is right about one thing. We should do this properly. We waited this long. We should have a proper ceremony.”

“A proper ceremony would be in Faery.” I know that much. My best friend in all the planes is Evangeline Donovan-Quinn. We’ve been talking about our weddings since I was roughly seventeen. She wants hers in a sacred forest and I knew mine—if I married this stubborn asshole—would be in the high priest’s temple on the Faery plane. I don’t know about the wedding right now, but I do intend to get to the Faery plane. “The good news is I’m already packed.”

“My parents married right here,” Rhys counters. “We don’t have to risk putting you in danger. I’ll start preparing for our ceremony. We can perform it in Herekoretanga.”

“Hey, Green Man, what the hell,” a voice calls out, his Irish accent thick. “You know we get our water from the ground here. There’s no need for this bullshite.”

I look over and the gnomes have joined us. Three small men with red pointy hats and long white beards who are responsible for the big gardens here in Frelsi. Seamus, Tiddle, and Enoch. The one in the middle is obviously their leader. Seamus looks to Rhys with a fierce frown on his face.

“First you grow so much grass we’re going to be digging the crops out for days,” Seamus complains. “You know it will take us a while to establish crops in Herekoretanga. These are supposed to sustain us.”

Rhys turns as the rain starts coming down harder. He faces the gnomes, hands in fists on his hips. “I’ll grow more.”

Enoch steps up, his pointy hat drooping a bit under the rain. “Will you now, Green Man? Because you seem to be struggling. Did you mean to grow the grass so high? Did you know the strawberries were caught in your whatever this is. They grew and rotted in the course of moments. And I was planning a strawberry pie.”

One of the goats joins the gnomes, bleating like she has something to say, too.

“And now poor Maeve has a belly ache,” Tiddle proclaims. “How is she supposed to keep up? You’re treating her like one of those human mowing machines.”

I wanted that strawberry pie, too. I face Rhys. “Now you’ve pissed off the gnomes. Do you know what it takes to piss off the gnomes? Come on. Everyone says if I spread my legs, you’ll calm down and the world will be a better place.”

Enoch sighs loudly and puts a hand to his heart. “Thank the goddess. Someone is thinking straight. Carry on.”

“Yes, turn off the waterworks or we’ll all drown,” Tiddle says as he waves and walks away.

The goat bleats and runs when the hellhound tries to sniff her backside.

“Hey, no eating the goats,” I call out. If the hounds start eating our livestock, everyone will revolt.

“What are you doing, Shy?” Rhys stands in the rain, his dark, longish hair slicked back after he runs a hand through it.

It does not make him any less sexy. The rain simply drenches the tunic he’s wearing, plastering it to his perfectly cut chest.

Yeah, I watch this man a lot. I watch him when he’s training. I watch him when he chops firewood. I watch him when he swims in the pond, but always find a way to avert my eyes when he starts to walk out. I don’t have that right. But I want it.

It’s kind of nice to not have his grandfather inside my head trying desperately not to vomit because he can somehow feel what I feel.

Don’t you think for a second you aren’t worthy of him. He’s my grandson and I love him, but I know your soul. You make sure he’s worthy of you.

Sometimes I still hear Harry like he’s here. Like he’s still the strong ground I stand on.

But he’s not and I’m alone, and the only way I’ll ever figure out if there’s more to me is to meet with this Arawn person.

“I’m doing what everyone in the supernatural world needs me to do.” It’s good. I can get it over with and then we’ll know. Then he’ll know if I’m his goddess or not. He’ll see that I can’t ever keep up with him sexually because I don’t know how good I’ll be at it. I don’t know if I’ll like it. I think about it, but how will I know?

When he kissed me earlier… I liked that. Maybe I can get through the rest of it if he’ll kiss me. I love it when he wraps his arms around me and holds me until I fall asleep. When he stands in front of me even though he can’t see the ghost or spirit that frightens me. When his hand holds mine and the world seems warm…

But since he ascended there’s an intensity to him I don’t understand. A need to control me.

All I know is I love this man and he needs me, and after this I’m putting my foot down and he better be reasonable enough to understand that I am going to Faery.

Rhys stares at me for a moment and thunder cracks right before he reaches out and hauls me close. The hound growls, but I hold out a hand as Rhys leans over and hauls me high against his chest. He strides through the muddying yard toward the road that leads through the center of town.

“My place is closer,” I say as he keeps walking. He moved to a cabin on the edge of town when his parents returned. He stays there with his brother and Fen, who claim they can’t handle all the fertility magic that flows whenever the royals get it on. Which they do a lot. Only Evan is still staying at the big house.

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