Page 78 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Our wolves can all scent her sadness when she sees us shifted. We remind her of Pa.
So while she might hide it very well, we know she’s not fine, and because we love our mother, we try to keep our other sides out of sight.
Janey, Cameo, and Aerla are the only three of us who aren’t shifters, but they sometimes join us, and my wolf rolls around in my mind, shoving images of Rose doing the same one day, riding on our back beneath the moon.
I gently try to temper his hopes. Rose has worked hard today. She needs rest more than she needs to run.
If wolves could pout, he would. There’s a prick of claws in my mind, and a shiver of fur runs down my spine as he protests both our mate’s tiredness and my lack of agreement to his grand plan.
Someday, I hastily promise him.Just not tonight.
He’s not completely appeased, and likely won’t be until he’s satisfied that Rose is taken care of, and I grimace as our silent argument continues.
Someone taps my bicep, and I drag my focus away from the barely satisfied creature within me to see Rose beside me, and my mother reading me with concerned eyes.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was just telling your ma that she’s welcome to stay in the palace until your home is rebuilt,” Rose says. “And she was trying to refuse, even though it would free up the library for more refugees.”
“Are you kidding?” I ask, the words coming out sharper than I mean them to. “Of course you’re staying in the palace. How badly was the house damaged?”
“It was burnt to the ground,” Cameo whispers, as Ma’s eyes tear up.
Great. Way to put your foot in it, Jare.
My parents had a tall, but somewhat crooked home against the inner wall. Every wonky wall and surface was the result of my pa stubbornly insisting he didn’t need help or to hire a builder.
Now it’s all gone.
Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Pa was her mate, but it’s been over ninety years, and Ma has never truly managed to say goodbye. I think some part of her still prays to Danu that he’ll walk through the door every night.
I grew up expecting her to follow him once I was grown, but so far, she’s stayed strong, thanks mostly to how close she is with my sisters.
“Aerla already lives in the palace,” I grind out, as my wolf claws at my mind, demanding we fix the sadness wafting from our mother immediately. “You could spend more time with her while we get everything fixed.”
“As Nicnevin, I insist,” Rose adds, leaning into my side in a way that somehow blunts the worst of my wolf’s anger. “We were just finishing up here, anyway. We can walk with you.”
It’s unexpectedly forceful of her, and I smile a little at the flash of steel in her tone as the beast inside me rolls over and bares his neck.
Even with the touch of feral that remains after mating her, he’s putty in her gentle hands.
Twenty-Six
Rhoswyn
Fiddling with the box on my lap became boring a little while ago. The moon is high in the sky, Caed is late, and I’m debating my outfit for the hundredth time.
I chose this nightgown because, after a long week of being on my feet, the idea of dressing up was too much to bear, but now I wonder if it’s a little too vulnerable.
It’s just dinner. I even asked the kitchen to prepare something simple, given the circumstances. Caed feels contemplative down the bond, but there’s an edge of impatience and even… surprise and amusement. When he appears, shirtless as usual, at the top of my stairs, it’s almost half an hour after I expected him.
“You won’t believe who cornered me on the way to the kitchen,” he begins with an apologetic grin, slipping into the chair on the other side of the small table.
“Drystan?” I guess, biting my lip as I imagine what threats the dullahan must’ve levelled his way.
“Nope. Your brother and the damned autumn prince.” He picks up his cutlery, then stops and frowns.
With a few deft movements, he abandons his chair, placing his cloche-covered plate beside mine and lifting me into his lap. I freeze at the contact, and his turquoise gaze settles on my face.
