Page 54 of Throne of Dreams
Maeve arched one brow. “Did I make a bargain with you I’m not aware of?”
“Not a bargain, no.” He paused, then twirled another curl around his finger. “A bond.”
“A bond,” she repeated, rolling the words around in her head.
“Yes.”
He really wasn’t going to give her anything unless she asked. “What kind of bond?”
“A mating bond.” When he spoke, his words were precise. Careful. Cautious. “The one I told you about. The dance in Autumn.”
Right. The one he’d forced upon her.
His brows drew together, and she knew he’d heard her thoughts. Guilt shamed her. She hadn’t meant for it to sound so cruel. Though at the time, it had been nothing short of it.
She placed her hand on her heart, over the Strand that must’ve formed from the magic that happened between them the first time they had sex. “This is from when I agreed to be yours.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” Again, Tiernan showed no emotion.
“Then that means,” her gaze dropped to the Strand covering his heart, “you’re mine.”
“Yes.” His voice was softer this time. Strained.
He was hers. Tiernan, High King of the Summer Court, was hers. He’d bonded himself to her as well. So, this was more than just casual sex. This was permanent. Lasting.
He ran his finger over the necklace she wore. “You’re conflicted.”
“No. I mean, yes, but no.” She winced at how foolish she sounded. “I suppose I’m just confused.”
“Why?”
It killed her to say it, but there was no other way around it. She had to know, and he was the only one who had the answer. “I don’t know why you’d choose me.”
He pressed his mouth to hers, lightly. Affectionately. Like that of a lover.
“That is not always up for us to decide.” His thumb followed the line of her lips. “Just because something is written in the stars, doesn’t mean it is sealed by fate.”
Maeve wasn’t sure she’d ever heard anything so terribly romantic in her life. If she was still a mortal, she might’ve swooned for him right then and there. “You think we’re fated?”
“I think—”
He moved so quickly, Maeve didn’t have time to react. He wrapped her in the blanket, shoved her behind him on the bed, and was dressed in full armor before she could form a coherent thought.
Just then, the door to his bedroom burst open and Maeve clutched the velvet blanket to her chest. She peeked around Tiernan’s broad shoulders and spied Merrick and Brynn standing in the doorway.
“What the fuck happened in—” Merrick’s question evaporated when Brynn swiftly jabbed him in his rib cage with her elbow.
His bright blue gaze shot to the bed. They both bowed quickly, but Tiernan didn’t move. He was quiet. Deadly quiet.
“Apologies, my lord.” Merrick glanced over at Maeve, then softer, “my lady.” He straightened. “Ceridwen had a vision, but it’s too late.”
Tiernan shifted, blocking Maeve completely from view, and all she heard was Merrick say, “We’ve got company.”
ChapterSeventeen
Tiernan lifted Maeve off the bed, blanket and all, and carried her into her room.
