Page 55 of Throne of Dreams
Anger radiated from him. His muscles were taut against her body, stiff with suppressed rage. But there was something else as well. Worry?
“Who is it?” Maeve asked when he carefully lowered her to the ground.
His eyes darkened to a midnight Summer sky. “Shay is paying us a visit.”
“What?” Maeve croaked, and the spindly fingers of panic trekked down her spine. She knew it was only a matter of time until he and Garvan learned about her, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Now Shay was here, obviously to see her, but she had no idea what he could possibly want. And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know, either. Anxiety crawled over her skin. What if he tried to take her away? What if he tried to bargain with Tiernan for her? Would he give her up if it meant he received something in return? What if Shay threatened the Summer Court?
She unraveled herself out of the velvet blanket and handed it to Tiernan, who tossed it over the edge of the bed. He gripped her by the shoulders and his gaze dipped down to her breasts. No, not her breasts. The necklace.
“Breathe,astora.” He swiped his thumb gently along her chin. “Breathe.”
She stood there, still naked, and inhaled slowly. She exhaled the paranoia. The concern. The overwhelming number of possibilities.
“You fear nothing, remember?” He kissed the top of her head. “Less than three hours ago, you took out the fucking Hagla. All by yourself.” Another kiss, this one on the corner of her mouth. “You fearnothing.”
Maeve nodded. Right. She’d done that. She could handle facing one of her brothers. But then another disturbance slinked into the far recesses of her mind. “Is Garvan with him?”
Tiernan was quiet for a moment. “No. Just Shay.” His gaze swept over her, up and down, lingering on the area below her navel until her skin heated once more. “You’ll need to dress.”
Clothing. Of course. “Should I shower?”
“No,” Tiernan bit the word out. “Let him smell my scent on you.” When he smiled, it was purely wicked.
Thousands of butterflies swirled in her stomach, a sensation she hadn’t felt in far too long. Ducking her head to hide her blush, Maeve turned away from him and walked over to the wardrobe. She grabbed a pair of leggings, but Tiernan’s hand came down upon her shoulder.
“No leggings, Maeve. Tonight, you’re Archfae.”
“But you—” She spun back to face him, ready to argue the fact that he was in full armor…except he wasn’t anymore. Words escaped her. There was absolutely no way to describe the male who stood before her. His dark hair fell over one side of his face like a midnight wave. The collar of his cobalt shirt stuck up with the top two buttons undone. A trim, stormy gray coat fell to his knees and stitches of swirling gold ran down the length of the sleeves. His sleek black pants were tucked into his boots and a belt slung low across his waist, prominently displaying both his swords. His leather vest was embroidered with Summer’s crest, the sun rising between twin mountain peaks. On his pinky finger was the same ring he always wore, the one that reminded her of his eyes, set in a gilded sun. He looked exceptionally royal, and the sight of him left her throat dry.
He was stunning.
Her soul fractured. Shattered.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a slow half-smile. “If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll be forced to bed you again.”
Heat pooled between her thighs at the mere thought of it.
“But there will be plenty of time for that later.” He winked. “Tonight, you’re Autumn High Fae. Pick something worthy of your birthright, something that will leave no question, no doubt in their minds, that you’re a High Princess.”
When she nodded, he gestured to the door and added, “Lir will escort you.”
Without another word, Tiernanfadedout of her room.
Maeve steadied herself. She could do this. She flung open the doors to the wardrobe, sifted through the bounty of gowns Deirdre had made for her and chose a gown the color of Autumn’s leaves. It was strapless, with heavy gold beading that formed crescent moons all over the bodice. Silk dripped from her waist down in shades of shimmery gold, burnt orange, and rich crimson. One slit on the side came all the way to her hip. She twirled once in front of the mirror, grabbed a pair of annoyingly high heels and then glanced at her vanity.
High Fae, she reminded herself.
She painted her lips blood red and left her curls wild, but wove tiny, golden leaf charms into a few of them. She chose scarlet rubies for her ears and a few thin bangles that had been a gift from Ceridwen. As a final touch, she strapped her Aurastone to her right thigh, ensuring it was visible for all to see.
I fear nothing.
Rolling her shoulders back, she raised her chin to a level of utter defiance and opened the door to her bedroom.
Lir stood before her, decked in armor of Summer’s colors. But this time, bands of gold hung from his shoulder and were pinned into place by matching suns, displaying his rank within the Summer Court. Commander of the Summer Legion, General of the High Army of Niahvess. His curved swords glinted like starlight, almost as silver as his eyes. He bowed.
“Your Highness.”
Maeve inclined her head. “Commander.”
