Page 33 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
He looks away sharply, that proud wall rising between the two of us. “I will abide by your wishes.”
What does thatmean?
I want to scream at him, force him to tell me the truth. For the first time, I feel the urge to look him straight in the eye and demand he tell me whathewants, using all my charm if necessary to get to the bottom of what exactly this contrary fae is thinking.
Bree sighs softly under his breath, distracting me from my ire. “I… will bow out.”
My gut sinks, and I glance up to find his ears have drooped slightly.
“You were right,” he continues, looking at Drystan instead of me. “I cannot be afraid of her, but… there are other things which may… endanger her. Females in fever are notorious for begging for cock. If she accidentally charmed me again…”
Disappointment settles across my shoulders like a cloak. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, dragonfly,” he whispers, then pauses.
In a snap, his black wings close around us fully, granting the illusion of privacy as he knocks Jaro’s arm away and shields us from the others’ view. Vivid green eyes bore into me, and I reach out to brace myself against his chest, only to stop halfway.
Capturing my fingers, he closes that gap, letting my palm caress the smooth planes of his ink-covered pec.
“This is not because of you.” Every word carries guilt. “This was them. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to break free and fix myself so you could have the first fever you deserve, with a whole and functional Guard who can worship you properly. I wish I could’ve been waiting by that portal for you, strong and hale and having been faithful to you since birth like the others—”
“Bree, you weren’t unfaithful,” I whisper, fingers caressing the head of his cat-sìth tattoo that twirls beneath my touch, arching like a real cat. “I would never think—”
“I was. I fucked other fae every single day you were gone, even after I swore an oath. I can still feel their hands on me—insideme.” His tone has shifted, going from mournful to angry. “I’m dirt, dragonfly. But I refuse to be the dirt that ruins this for you. If I snapped and brought drama into the middle of something that should be a perfect time for you, I would never forgive myself.”
That burning in my eyes isn’t a tear. It’s just the cold. I refuse to pity such a strong and beautiful soul, and raging against what was done won’t help now. Bree needs to heal. I just wish I knew how to help him.
“So you’re going to take the draught?” I ask.
He looks away, wings flapping and disappearing in an inky mist, leaving nothing to shelter me from the chill night air. “It’ll be simpler this way.” He pauses. “But without me, it would be wise for you to consider Drystan’s offer. Just two of your Guard probably won’t be enough.”
I don’t understand why two males won’t be enough, but the others are nodding, agreeing.
“I only have one…” I gesture down there.
“Pussy.” Lore grins. “Oooh. Say cunt. Please, please, please.”
Dismissing him, I continue. “So why will two not be sufficient?”
“We really need to teach her about anal sex,” Lore murmurs.
Jaro chokes on the waterskin, spraying liquid across the circle. “Lorcan!”
Anal… My ears burn… “Sodomy?”
Old mortal hangups worm their way out, determined to make themselves known, but I crush them down again with the full force of my trust in my Guard. Lore and Jaro made me feel so good the last time we were together. I can’t imagine either of them would ever do anything I didn’t like.
“Sodomy is a mortal word,” Jaro corrects gently. “Fae don’t have that term, or the shame that’s associated with it, but if it’s a boundary for you, we don’t have to—”
“Oh, come on. In four days, she’s going to be begging us to fuck her there as well.” Lore grins devilishly. “You’re going to love it, pet. We’ll prepare you properly. Did anyone bring any plugs?” No one answers, all of them watching me for my reaction, so he continues, “You have three main holes, and five mates, which means unless you’re willing to try stuffing extra sausage into your pretty cunt, then one of us gets a tit-fuck—probably your púca, given how much time he spends staring at them—and then I suppose Caed can have your feet, but he’s definitely not at—”
“Lorcan.” Jaro growls, scratching lightly at his beard. “Caed is not going near any part of Rose. Feet included.”
“Agreed,” Drystan echoes.
Bree simply nods. “Beltaine.”
One word, summing up Caed’s fate so perfectly. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning it, making his slaughter into a bonding activity.
