Page 71 of Courting the Tiger King

“By all means. We’re all here.” Wren swept his hand out to indicate the half-full room. Many of the inhabitants had stayed, out of loyalty or just curiosity, he didn’t know. Others had fled the upcoming conflict.

“Here.” Castor beckoned him closer and Wren didn’t hesitate, showed no fear. “Kneel. Repeat after me.I, Wren Ainsworthy,” Castor intoned and Wren rolled his eyes as he knelt to the ground and complied. “Do freely surrender my throne, my crown, and my title.”

Wren cleared his throat to continue, just wanting it over with. Wanting Neah back where she belonged: by his side. “Do freely sur?—”

The doors to the hall crashed open, stealing his words. Golden eyes met his own and lips he’d tasted mere nights ago tipped up in a smile. Blood and streaks of dirt covered her skin, the remnants of bruising fading before his eyes, as Neah walked into the room as if this were an everyday occurrence.

“Sorry I’m late. I seem to have misplaced my dress,” she said lightly, but the look she levelled on Castor would have driven enemies from their door in fear. “Oh good, Castor. I was hoping to catch-up with you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

NEAH

The crown clanged as it dropped to the ground, its holder’s hands disappearing in favour of wings, and Neah ran, shifting mid-leap.

I made it. I made it. I made it.And just in time, too. Though, the image of Wren kneeling at his uncle’s feet forherwould not soon vanish.

Feathers caught in her mouth as she gripped the wing of the great bird attempting to flee and brought it back to the ground with asmackthat puffed dark feathers up and around them.

Castor transformed as he hit the ground, returning to his human form and scrabbling for a sword. Neah knocked it from his grip with a careless swipe of one paw, her claws raking against his skin and making him cry out.

Neah hesitated, glancing to Wren but he just nodded, clearly happy to let her deal with Castor as she saw fit.

“This isn’t over.” He coughed wetly as he scrambled back and away from her on all fours. “I’ll kill you all and take what ismine?—”

Her jaw closed around his head, the crunch satisfying as she shook Castor before flinging his detached head from his body and to the ground. Screams rang out but Neah didn’t care. Theman was sick. He’d killed Romi, nearly killed Zennon, and had been targeting her and Wren for weeks too.

May he feel the Goddess’ wrath in Hel.

Wren dropped to the ground and cupped her maw, gazing intently into her eyes. “I love you.”

She couldn’t reply in this form so, instead, she licked his face and nudged his fallen crown toward him. He picked it up and smiled, setting it on her furry head before lifting it up and back onto his.

“Here.” Sonnet opened the folds of her ceremonial robes, revealing the dress Romi had made for her beneath. The flaps offered Neah some privacy to shift back and Sonnet nodded off to the side, where Gabe and Skye held her dress.

“I don’t want to get it dirty,” she mumbled once she was back in skin rather than fur. Skye waved his hand, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t make sense of, and the worst of the blood and grime lifted away. “Thank you.” The plush orange dress fell over her and pooled around her bare feet and she swallowed hard, unable to shake the image of Romi lying still on the floor of Neah’s chambers, blood pooling beneath her. “How did you know to bring it?”

Sonnet smiled as she let her arms drop back down. “Skye had a feeling.”

Wren took Sonnet’s place and she fell into his arms, exhaustion weighing hard on her. Unconsciousness didn’t equal a restful sleep, it turned out. “Shall we do it now? Or do you want to wait?”

She smiled tiredly, smothering a yawn behind her hand. “I don’t want to wait another second.”

He chuckled. “Come on, then.” His hand clasped hers, warm and steady, and Neah basked in the simplicity of it. The smell of sage wafted to them as Sonnet walked in a circle around them three times clockwise and three times in the other directionbefore placing the burning sage back on the altar to continue smoking. She raised her arms and the last of the sunlight seemed to fill the gap between her palms, her own magic bolstering the light as she guided the orb back down and let it sink into the length of white ribbon atop the marble.

They turned to face each other, hands intertwined, and Sonnet wrapped the ribbon around Wren’s wrist and along and around Neah’s. With their other hand, they pricked their fingers on the blade Sonnet proffered and let the blood drip onto the ribbon, speckles of red marring the white.

Magic probed within her chest, searching, asking her a simple question that Neah answered easily.Yes. I accept the bond.

Warmth pooled in her hand, the blood on the ribbon sinking in as if it had never been there at all before the ribbon followed suit, disappearing into the skin of their hands in an intricate whorl of silver designs.

Sonnet smiled. “Your bond is complete. You have been blessed by the Goddess. Let all who are present here act as witness to Selene’s will.”

They bowed their heads and when they raised them again, it was to cheers. Neah leaned in, brushing her lips over Wren’s, happy to drink in the moment before more danger could strike. The ceremony had been somewhat expedited on account of her exhaustion, but it was done and Wren was safe. That was what mattered.

“Come,” he said, tugging gently on her hand and leading them back down the aisle that had been decorated with a white strip of cloth.

As they got to the end, the doors opened and Zennon cried out when she saw Neah, rushing forward to wrap her in an embrace.

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