Page 23 of A Song of Air
Her mate.
Her mate.
For so long, Corvina had dreamt of meeting him. When she was a young girl, she’d craved it. But when reality came crashing down and the war progressed, she’d been forced to set aside those dreams as passing fancies. Her father, the High Lord of the Golden Court, had gifted her to the humans in exchange for her court’s survival. She’d been married to Prince Tobias of Dana, and yet her court still fell.
That was the beginning of her nightmares.
All Corvina had known in the human lands was cruelty and abuse. Until the Resistance. Until the Elementals. Until Clay.
She’d learned what it meant to be strong. And even if her gnarled, twisted fingers could not properly hold a sword, she had other things at her disposal that could bring down kingdoms. Her magic.
And her love.
Raw emotion tugged at her heartstrings the more Clay looked into her eyes and said nothing. She was only just learning about pleasure and what an honest relationship really looked like. Clay was looking at her with that open sincerity, and she felt she could read everything on his expression.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Perfect.”
Her heart warmed. He’d been doing that for days. Like he meant to remind her every chance he got just what he thought of her. And she loved every second of it.
The most important reminder of course would always be of her own making. She needed to feel comfortable with herself and her own body, to value her own worth regardless of what anyone else said or how the ghosts of her past tried to haunt her. Sometimes, it was just nice to hear it said aloud.
“Much as I’d like to have you ride me forever, it’s time we got up.” He curled his stomach with a groan, lifting. Her legs splayed open at the action, her thighs encircling his waist. His arms wrapped tightly around her hips, and he looked up at her through bright lashes. “Although, this position feels too good to change.”
The tip of his cock stirred against her entrance. Wetness pooled between her legs all over again. She let out a soft mewl of want.
“We can’t.” Clay lifted her slowly. “They’re waiting for us, and the hour is already late.”
Much as she loathed to get up, he was right. It was late in the day already and she needed to check on Basil and her maids—friends, she amended. They weren’t her maids any longer, not since her husband and the entire Wes family had met its end. Not since the Resistance and enslaved Fae in Dana rose up in arms and destroyed the kingdom, letting the Seelie Prince take over.
They no longer had a duty to Corvina, and yet they still did her favors in watching Basil while she...
Corvina’s face heated. A part of her wanted to be ashamed, for the fear to rise up and rear its ugly head. But the greatest threat to her safety was gone. Her husband was gone, and nothing could harm her or Basil again.
They began dressing in comfortable quiet. Corvina still shied away from his gaze as she dressed. Her body was not the perfect specimen for a Fae. She was covered in scars from years of abuse. Even her fingers were gnarled and twisted and shook as she tried to pull her ribbons through her dress.
“Let me,” Clay offered. His hands covered her shaking digits. His palms were smoother than hers and for a second, she felt self-conscious because of it. She had been a princess only days ago. Princesses were not supposed to have calloused fingers. But there were many parts of her body that she found ugly. Parts of her that had been tortured with iron so badly, they’d never healed the same.
Like her ears. The tips of them weren’t pointed like other Fae’s. They’d been cut through with an iron knife until they’d bled and healed into twisted wreck of flesh. She wanted to hide them for a moment, to drop her hair over the tips so others could not see what all Tobias had done to her, even though they already knew and had witnessed the abuse for themselves.
Slowly, Clay’s hands pulled her out of those dark thoughts. He yanked on her ribbons, tying them into place. When he finished, he turned her, pushing aside her hair behind her ears. Almost as if he knew in which direction her thoughts had strayed.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Perfect.”
Her face flushed with warmth. The words she wanted to say got stuck in her throat. They tended to do that when he was near. It was still hard to believe he was real. This was real. That she had her mate in front of her and he was... perfect.
“Shall we go?” she asked.
He smiled as though he knew what she already wanted to say before he took her hand in his. Her fingers ached with phantom pains, but once his palm swallowed hers, she forgot all about that.
He led her outside of the room. The halls in the castle were very familiar to her, and their feet led them to the throne room where the others were waiting.
Julius whistled. “About damn time, you two.”
Julius was Clay’s best friend. A mountain of a Fae, he was leaning a muscled shoulder against an ivory pillar, flashing white teeth through his ginger beard in their direction. His ruddy cheeks flushed red with laughter at his own clever joke and beside him, his mate snickered.
Clay flipped Julius the finger, causing Iona to cackle with laughter.
Iona was a beautiful, if intimidating, Fae who was nearly as tall as Julius. She was muscular and curvy, with an expanse of smooth ebony skin and white curls shorn to her scalp.
