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Mara is already reclining on a couch, waiting for us. She looks impossibly regal with her lilac dress draped around her, revealing just the right amount of leg from one of its slits.

“Ah, there you are,” she says, raising her hands in greeting, like yesterday never happened.

I’m still sweaty from the workout, inconspicuously picking at the training leathers now sealing themselves to my skin. Des for his part looks far more badass, his gear molding to his body like a lover.

We were right in the middle of a scrimmage that I swear was going my way when Mara’s soldiers interrupted us, telling us the Queen of Flora requested my presence.

Des sort of took it upon himself to join me despite not receiving an invitation himself. And now here we are. Completely out of place in this dainty little sitting room.

Around Mara, several servants move about. I catch sight of the upraised red skin on their wrists.

Humans.Enslaved people.

Mara’s eyes follow mine, and her expression seems to grow excited when she realizes what I’m looking at. In her world, regardless of titles and relationships, at the end of the day, I am one ofthem. A shadow, a servant, an inferior being.

Mara’s attention slides to Des, and she flashes him a sly smile. “Didn’t trust me alone with your mate?”

“The last time my mate was alone with a ruler, she nearly died. It’s nothing personal.”

Mara clicks her tongue. “Soveryprotective.” Her eyes slide to me. “But you don’t need protecting, do you?”

On earth, no.

In fact, if Des pulled something like this back home, it would royally irk me. But here, where my glamour is useless and I’m surrounded by immortals who like blood sport even more than my siren does, I’m inclined to let Des be protective.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” I ask instead, taking the lead and heading deeper into the room. Des follows behind me.

I sit on the green velvet armchair adjacent to her, and Des takes the matching seat across from it.

“Tea?” Mara offers, gesturing to the delicate tea set in front of her on the coffee table.

I shake my head.

“Don’t mind if I help myself,” she says.

The vines that have taken over the room now slither up the coffee table before wrapping around the teakettle and a delicate cup. They lift the porcelain containers into the air, and then, ever so gently, the vines tilt the kettle, and tea begins pouring into the cup.

“Have you enjoyed your stay so far?” Mara asks, settling herself into the seat.

I can’t quite rip my eyes away from the sight of all those plants pouring a cup of tea.

Magic willneverget old.

“Mm-hmm,” I say, watching as more vines join the production, one to add some cream to the cup, another to add a cube of sugar.

“I hear that during the first night of festivities, you and the king slipped away to the forest for a bit.”

Now I tear my gaze away from the tea.

I flush as I remember being pressed to that tree, Des’s chest pinned against mine as he pistoned in and out of me.

Of course, the queen knows we made love under the canopy of her forest.

“Oh, there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” she says, noticing my reddening cheeks. “We celebrate the cycle of seasons by coming together. It’s an honor to have the King of the Night and his mate sanctify the celebration by joining in. I myself disappeared into the forest several times that evening alone.”

Really, I could’ve lived without knowing that.

My eyes slide to Des.