Page 61 of Throne of Dreams
The easy melody gave Maeve enough time to catch her breath, the bubbles from the sparkling wine having finally caught up with her. “You’re an incredible dancer, Merrick.”
“Thank you.” He anchored his leg and dipped her slowly until she arched all the way back, then gradually pulled her upright. “I’ve got two older sisters, so it was forced upon me. When Tiernan and I were younger, my sisters dressed us up as princes and made us attend imaginary balls.”
Maeve leaned back and gazed into his cerulean eyes. “You’ve known each other that long?”
He grinned down at her, and his dimples illuminated his face. “We grew up together.” Merrick spun her out, twirled her once, then dragged her back to him. “I’ve known Tiernan my whole life.”
“I’ve bet you’ve got some stories.”
She tried to imagine Tiernan and Merrick as children; as young males who were reckless and impulsive, who probably had no idea the world was at their fingertips. Her imagination dreamed up the adventures they went on and the trouble they likely caused in their youth.
The calming beat of the music floated over her, reminding her of an intricate waltz. She stifled a yawn. But her body was warm and fuzzy, and though she knew she was slightly intoxicated, she wanted to learn more about baby Tiernan.
“Did you two spend all of your time together?”
“There were actually four of us for a while. Myself, my oldest sister Ciara, Tiernan, and Ceridwen. For the longest time, we did everything together.” Merrick dipped her low this time, and the world spun in a blur of colors. “But things got weird after Tiernan and Ciara slept together, so then it was just Ceridwen, Tiernan, and me.”
Maeve tried to ignore that annoying bit of information. Obviously, he’d had multiple partners over the course of his lifetime. He was fae. She couldn’t blame him. But it didn’t make her any less jealous. She opted to take the high road and not the one paved in envy.
“Tell me stories about what it was like when you were younger.”
Merrick laughed, pulling her in. She let her head come to rest upon his shoulder while he swayed them back and forth. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and his voice was like a lullaby.
“Which ones? Our adorable youth?” He chuckled softly. “Or when we were careless rebels?”
“Any of them. All of them.”
The music pitched and Merrick spun her out once more. Maeve twirled away from him, but her hand slipped from his grip. She reached out blindly, and he caught her wrist, gently bringing her back into the dance.
Maeve let a small sigh escape her. “I would’ve liked to have had a childhood like yours.”
“It would’ve been even better if you’d been there with us.” A deep, velvety baritone coasted past her cheek and her head snapped up.
She wasn’t dancing with Merrick.
It was Tiernan.
Maeve glanced over Tiernan’s broad shoulders and spied Merrick standing back, watching. He flashed his dimples in a wide smile, then disappeared into the crowd of bodies.
“Are you tired?” Tiernan’s whisper skated across her cheek.
“Mm.” It was a noncommittal agreement.
“Then let’s get you to bed.”
Maeve held onto his arm and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to disguise another yawn. “Don’t I have to say good night?”
“Just wave.” Tiernan guided her toward the exit. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”
Maeve waved to no one in particular, but she caught Shay’s eye. He watched her from across the room, not daring to step her way, not risking speaking to her again. Maeve gave him a little smile in what she hoped he would perceive as a truce, and the one he flashed back her way was shining.
Once they were out of the ballroom and in the halls leading back to their rooms, Tiernan scooped her up off her feet and into his arms. She instantly relaxed, melting into the strength of him. She listened to the sound of his heart beating against her ear, and she enjoyed the way his chest rose and fell. Steadfast. Confident. Sure. She remained silent when he carried her into his room and not her own.
She said nothing as he slowly undressed her, carefully unraveling every article of clothing like she was a present on Yuletide morning. She removed her Aurastone and handed it to him, and Tiernan placed it beneath the pillow where she would lay her head down to sleep. A shiver danced across her skin and the fire in the hearth that was once nothing more than a few dying embers flickered to life at his command. With her mind fuzzy from too much drink and the promise of sleep tugging on her eyelids, Maeve crawled into Tiernan’s bed.
He took off his clothing and climbed in next to her, drawing her up close to him so her back fit against his chest and her bottom nestled against his hips. He stroked her hair, twirling each curl around one of his fingers. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to sleep was Tiernan serenading her with a song about magic, dreams, and faerie queens.
ChapterNineteen
