Page 153 of Atop the Faerie Throne
The Fomorian queen gives me a quick hug, then follows my family into the Temple.
“Let’s do this,” I tell my high priestess, my nerves spiking at the sight of the huge doors.
Kitarni smiles and gestures to the lingering priestesses on our left.
The fanfare that fills the air silences all conversation, and the double doors swing open, exposing a room full of fae, who seem to let out a collective breath as I take my first step forward.
I don’t really remember the walk down the aisle, but that’s probably because I’m too busy blushing under the intense stares coming my way from the five males by the altar.
All of them are wearing their finest. Lore’s hat is stiff and grows taller as he takes in the thigh-high slit in my skirts. Bree’s ears seem even fluffier than usual, his tattoos swirling in the spotlight. The full dress armour Jaro is wearing has gilded wolves and roses emblazoned on the pauldrons, echoing the golden glow of the beast burning from within his eyes. Drystan’s hair is braided and hung with charms that gleam in the light, and Caed has found a starched white shirt, albeit a sleeveless one that shows off his armbands and tattoos.
I settle between Bree and Lore, the former twisting our fingers together in greeting while the latter wastes no time in plopping his hat onto my head. The fabric seems to do… something… to the delicate weight of my crown, but I don’t have time to reach up and figure out what.
Kitarni leads the six of us through our vows, passing around the ritual dagger. I’ve been through a lot since I arrived in Faerie, but cutting my hand still makes me grimace. I distract myself by watching my mates do the same. My high priestess layers our hands over one another, and the contact with Jaro’s skin makes me wince.
The scarlet splashes over the altar, and Lore’s eyes flash with excitement as we speak the ritual words.
“My blood to your blood. Now we are one. Mate to mate. Nicnevin to Guard.”
“What Danu has decreed, none may tear asunder,” Kitarni finishes for us before projecting her voice over the gathered crowd. “In the name of the Great Goddess, I bless this mating. Each of you present is now witness to the unity of Danu’s daughter and her Guard. Goddess Bless the Fifth Nicnevin!”
“Long may she reign,” several hundred fae reply without hesitation.
Lore is the first to claim my lips in a feral kiss, his hand winding around my back to press me against him as his smile meets mine. His fangs nip teasingly at my lower lip as he reluctantly relinquishes me so Bree can have his turn.
My púca’s kiss is sweet and tender, and we break apart with matching red cheeks. Then Jaro twirls me around and lifts me so he can claim his. The hard metal of his armour presses against my front as Caed’s body heat warms my back. My Fomorian’s kiss is decidedly less chivalrous. Caed plunders my mouth with the skill of someone who was raised to take what he wanted, then steals a second before the two of them relinquish me and give me that tiny shove towards Drystan.
The Lord of the Wild Hunt traces his fingers over the antler necklace around my throat before shifting his grip higher, collaring me and tilting my head up. There’s a moment where he doesn’t kiss me, something dark and arrogant floating along the bond. My eyes flutter down in discreet submission, and that’s all it takes.
He kisses me like he owns me, the nip of his teeth over my bottom lip promising all sorts of things for later.
I can’t wait.
The two of us have discussed at length what’s happening tonight, and our plan to drive all of my mates wild includes him, too.
I’m panting when we break apart, aware that there’s a lot of well-wishers to greet before we make it back to my bedroom. My cheeks are flushed, chest heaving as I wave at the gathered crowd, my Guard surrounding me.
Goddess. Whose decision was it to put all our families at the front where they can plainly see how much my mates affect me?
Fifty-One
Rhoswyn
I’m more than a little flushed when Bree lands in my garden with me in his arms. It’s well past midnight, and the celebrations are still raucous and merry in the streets below. I spent hours dancing and laughing my way through the under fae revels after the mating feast ended, and now my feet are sore, and my cheeks hurt.
My ears have finally stopped ringing from the cannon Lore fired an hour ago, and I make a mental note to thank Drystan again for ensuring I was upwind of the ashes he’d packed it with.
Now there’s nothing to distract me from the ache that’s been steadily building with every tiny illicit touch from my mates during the celebration. At one point, I was sure Lore was just going to bend me over the table and fuck me in front of all our guests, but I told him if he managed to hold off, I’d have a surprise for him.
The shout from the direction of my bed tells me he might have already discovered it.
“Pet, you didn’t,” he says, blinking right in front of us. “Are they for me?”
He’s already bare-chested and coated in my dust after a full evening of flirting kisses and secret touches to the mating mark on my thigh when he thought the guests weren’t looking. That makes things easier, because I’ve somehow got to get him naked before Drystan gets here.
I press at Bree’s arms, and my púca lets me down. Taking a deep breath, I look my redcap straight in his luminous, eager eyes.
“Pleasego and lie on the bed, put your wrists in the cuffs, and don’t blink out of them until I say you can.”
