Page 29 of Atop the Faerie Throne (The Fifth Nicnevin #5)

Twenty-Eight

Bricriu

T he brush slides easily through Rose’s hair, the tangles from sleep long since dispersed, but the rhythm of the task is soothing.

“Do you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?” Rose asks, noticing my inattention.

In my defence, this morning’s session with Priestess Claudri was… rough. The inside of my ribcage feels a little like someone has taken a block of sandpaper to it. I know I’m putting myself through this for good reason, and there’s catharsis in the exhaustion that follows, but I find myself wondering if I should just… not attend our next session.

Is it even working? I still jerk away from any kind of touch. I still find myself searching every new face for any shred of recognition, tasting the air for the scent of sloe gin and rosin…

Claudri struggles almost as much as I do under the weight of my burdens, and for what? She’d undoubtedly be far happier without seeing me every few days. Subjecting an innocent female to the full force of my demons doesn’t sit right with me, even if she assures me that she has all the support she needs in the Temple.

“Bree,” Rose calls me back to the present, stealing the brush with gentle fingers.

Without the distraction, my hands go straight to my tattoos.

The priestess called that a self-soothing coping mechanism. Does that mean I shouldn’t be doing it? I force myself to stop, only to bury my fingers into Rose’s tresses and start twisting it into a soft braid without thought.

“I’m working on it,” I eventually choke out, keenly aware of her sympathy. “Some days are worse than others.”

Rose accepts the answer without pressing, and my shoulders lower fractionally.

“Go flying with me?” she suggests, smoothing the creases from the pink dress that flows to just above her knees.

Thanks to her new braid, her shoulders and wings are on full display, and my eyes trace the graceful line of her spine, lingering on the curve of her ass before I shake myself.

My mate is gorgeous, but she’s also waiting on my answer, and here I am staring like an idiot.

Wordlessly I offer her my hand, and she takes it, allowing me to tug her gently to her feet before her dressing table. Instead of stepping instantly away, she leans into my body, giving me time to object. I’m grateful for it, given how close to the surface the memories are.

I hug her like she’s made of glass, but equally like she’s the only thing tethering me to this world, because she’s both. Those sparks where we touch are addictive, soothing the rough edges and replacing them with her.

“I love you,” I whisper into her hair.

“And I you,” she replies, easily.

I really shouldn’t be so surprised when a hit of her adoration pulses down our bond, yet I always am. I wake up surrounded by the feeling, and I go to sleep drowning in it, and yet… I can never take it for granted.

What would the priestess have to say about that?

She’d probably ask another calm prompting question about how that insecurity might be related to my low self-esteem.

I steal a deep lungful of my mate’s flowers-and-sugar scent and offer her a grateful smile, before reaching for Lox. His wings burst from my shoulder blades in a familiar cloud of black inky mist, and I flex the muscles, stretching them wide.

Rose watches with slightly pink cheeks, and I tilt my head to the side for a second as I try to process the awe coming my way.

Being the subject of her admiration is only a little easier to accept than her love, but it banishes the last of the skeletons I dug up this morning as she jumps into the air, her wings blurring behind her.

Goddess, I have never felt so conflicted about a pair of leggings before. On the one hand, I know she wears them because she’s self-conscious about fae seeing under her skirts when she flies. On the other…

I wish I was bold enough to tear them off her.

My eyes are glued to her ass as she climbs into the air. It gives her time to get high enough that the powerful gusts my vertical take-off will create won’t send her off-balance. She might tell me off for being so protective, but she’s still so new at this, and I refuse to do anything to knock her confidence.

Once we’re both aloft, I fly a little above her and to her left, using my larger silhouette to camouflage hers to anyone looking up into the bright sunlit sky.

“Where to?” I ask, as she drifts in a lazy spiral around the palace.

She shrugs, and the movement messes with her flight a little, sending her listing to one side before she can correct herself. “Can we get out of the city?”

I adjust my course happily. Over the last few days, I’ve seen more than enough of the damage the Fomorians did, though I suppose signs of renewed life are already beginning to return if you look hard enough. Greenery is returning to the fields of the outer city, and most of the debris has been cleared from the inner. Drystan razed the worst affected areas of the forest in the palace ring last week, and the young saplings that were replanted are already thriving, spurred by magic.

He and I have mostly been utilising our power to destroy the structures that are too unsafe to repair. It’s been constant hard work, broken only by Praedra’s mating ceremony last week and my sessions with Claudri. I’m happy to help, but I’ve missed out on a lot of time with my mate.

Dipping lower on a whim, I trace my fingers down the exposed length of Rose’s spine. Her skin has been warmed by the sun, the silk of it an indulgence.

“Tag,” I whisper in her ear, before pulling up and back, looping away.

Her surprised little giggle warms my insides as she darts left, her agile wing structure enabling her to change direction faster than I can.

I take it easy on her, pretending outrage when her delicate fingers clasp around my ankle.

“Got you!” Her exclamation is a little winded, but the flush in her cheeks is so pretty.

She’s delighted, her joy radiating down the bond.

It doesn’t take long for the others to notice, but when Lore attempts to check on us—or more likely steal her away like the greedy redcap he is—he ends up plummeting like a stone.

“No fair!” he cries, clutching the ridiculously wide brim of his hat to slow his descent. “I wanted her next date.”

I have no sympathy for him. He would take all of Rose’s dates if he could.

He blinks away with a hastily blown raspberry, and I use the distraction to tag Rose again… by swooping underneath and kissing the living daylights out of her.

Yes, I missed this.

Her breathy moan against my lips is the worst kind of torture as I pull away and put all my strength into the next beat of my wings, weaving between treetops as we pass the city walls. From here, I can see the trail of refugees still working its way from the gates to the horizon.

I should’ve chosen a different direction. Rose doesn’t need the reminder of all the heaviness she’s already carrying.

A weight drops onto my back, knocking me off course as the mating bond hits me with purest affection and glee.

She’s tackling me but bombarding me with fuzzy feelings to allay any negative emotions that the action might trigger. Goddess, what did I ever do to deserve her?

I drop several feet, tucking in my wings as she presses a suckling kiss to the curve of my neck, right over Lox’s beak, then strokes my cat ears in a way that has me all kinds of distracted.

Her interest stirs questioningly, and I banish the tiny voice that tells me I should wait for Drystan or one of the others. She’s out here with me, wants me , and I don’t have the strength to resist her when she undoes the strap at the back of her neck and lets the front of her dress fall to her waist, exposing her breasts to the air.

Is it any wonder that it takes me a few seconds to gather my wits enough to chase after her? Rose, happy now that she’s raised the intensity of our game, squeaks like prey and goes lower, using the branches as cover.

Clever dragonfly. Using her smaller size and wingspan to her advantage.

Grinning, I bank left. I’ve done a lot more flying around her city than she has, so I know she’s about to run out of trees. I head for where I think she’ll exit the forest with the sun behind me and am rewarded when I manage to catch her around the waist and pull her into me, rubbing my aching cock against the crease of her ass in search of some relief.

“Got you,” I parrot her earlier words back at her, running my lips over the edge of her top wings, which go still as I take over flying for the both of us.

One of my hands releases her, tracing up her ribs to cup her bare breast and torment the warm weight there. Her nipple is a hard little point, digging into my palm as I squeeze lightly, drawing a gasp from her.

“You cheated,” she complains, but there’s no heat behind the accusation. No, she’s too busy squirming, coating my chest in her dust.

I breathe her in and moan.

Goddess, I need to calm down or land. If I do neither, we’ll fly into a tree.

Decision made, I keep kissing every piece of her that I can reach as we start a lazy spiral down to a clearing a fair way outside the city. Every single time my tongue brushes her skin, tasting that heady combination of sweat and dust, my cock pulses.

I need her. Now.

Our feet crunch on the pine-needle strewn floor, but the noises and scents of the forest are drowned out by the racing of our hearts and the shaking desperation in my hands as I shove her forward, forcing her to brace her forearms against the trunk of the nearest tree.

Her pretty wings droop on either side of her ribs, leaving her spine exposed. My eyes travel the length of her, lingering on my mark on her right hand, before flowing back down her body to where two pieces of fabric are all that prevent me from making us as close as two fae can possibly be.

I flip up the skirt of her dress and—Fuck. There’s a wet patch on her leggings. If I had any remaining willpower before, that dark stain erases it. A brief caress of Espen’s coils on my arm and our forked tongue snakes out, letting me bask in the perfect blend of scents that is our combined arousal mixed with the wilderness. It’s a measure of how lost I am that I summon his fangs as well, though I manage to keep them retracted.

Goddess. I should slow down. I should…

Rational thought intercedes for just a second, long enough for me to stammer out… “Dragonfly, I?—”

Her head falls down into the space between her arms, a needy whine breaking free of her throat as she rubs her ass against my crotch. Fuck. I need those layers between us gone, or I’m going to embarrass myself.

“Do it. Take me.”

Gladly.

I run one hand down my abs, borrowing Naris’s claws to rip through the butter-soft fabric hiding her round little ass. A fresh wave of her honey-sweet scent smacks into me the second they’re out of the way, and I don’t even process the time it takes for me to shred my own laces, pull my cock free, and sink straight into her tight, welcoming wet heat.

“Rose,” I groan as she twists, trying to switch our positions. I won’t last if she succeeds. I’m barely hanging on as it is. My fingers dig into her hips, keeping her still, and I collapse over her, licking the length of her glittering spine. “Goddess. Don’t you move. Don’t you fucking?—”

A guttural snarl, torn from my chest, silences whatever order I might’ve given as she tenses her inner muscles, her walls clamping down on me like a vise.

It’s over.

My hips slam against her soft ass as I find the junction of her neck with my mouth. The fangs that were previously safely retracted, scrape menacingly at her pulse. Warning her to be still. Making sure she knows exactly who’s in charge here as I plunge desperately into her.

The danger drives her arousal higher. The mating bond is vibrating with how much she loves the dominance of the move, and her pulse flutters beneath my lips. I’m shaking, shuddering with the force of our combined need, and my common sense has fled, stolen away by the obscene noises filling our own little private bubble.

This is a bad idea, but she’s so responsive beneath my touch. The cries tearing free of her throat are wild and only for me. Reckless.

Her whimpers start to take on a frenzied edge, her body writhing and sparkling beneath mine, and I know she’s close. I don’t have it in me to deny her. I want to watch her as she flies towards the sun and rapture more than I want my next heaving breath.

“Come,” I hiss against her skin, penetrating deep into her swollen heat for the last time.

Rose goes limp as she explodes under the force of an orgasm that travels down the mating bond and steals the strength from my bones. Her pussy milks my cock with every single wave, and there’s no hope in this world or the next of me resisting. My balls draw up and my head falls back on a feral hiss as my own climax tackles me from behind with the force of a hundred barghests.

It’s only as she wrings the last drops of my seed from my balls, bathing her insides in my scent, that I realise what I almost did.

Goddess, if I’d bitten her…

My fangs retract so fast that the roof of my mouth protests.

“Rose,” I begin, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t?—”

But when my beautiful mate turns around, she’s… beaming? I’m so busy hunting in the mating bond for any kind of regret or, worse, fear, that finding her overwhelming pride and happiness instead makes my mind go blank.

Slowly, I put the pieces together.

We just fucked, and not once did I have to stare into her eyes to remind myself who I was with. Her attempts to turn around… her struggles, all of them were out of concern because every other time I’ve been so…

How? How did I manage it?

Dimly, I’m aware that I’ve gone as still and silent as a statue under the weight of the confusion wracking me. Rose, thank Danu, can feel my emotions and knows it’s not her doing or what we did. My mate wriggles into my embrace, ignoring the sticky mess cascading down her thighs as she tucks herself against my chest and aligns our marks with her hand on my heart.

Goddess, that will never, ever get old.

But all the love in the world can’t give me the answers I want. Why now? Why did I not even think about something I was so reliant on?

“There’s no pressure,” she whispers, breath caressing my tattoos with each word. “If it happens again, that’s amazing. If not, I’m never going to complain about looking you in the eyes when we make love.”

She’s too good for me, but as soon as that thought forms, the brush of mate bond combined with a flicker of residual empathy magic smears it until it’s almost unrecognisable.

“You’re a miracle,” I whisper, loosening my arms when I realise I might actually be crushing her. “I swear, dragonfly, I never thought…”

Words fail me, unable to make it past the thick mass of emotion swelling in my throat, but it doesn’t matter. The bond throws every truth I can’t speak at her.

I want to fall at her feet and weep in gratitude. I would have endured Máel and every fae who visited the Toxic Orchid a hundred times over for moments like this one. I don’t know how much of it is my work with the priestess, or how much of it is the comfort of having her soul so close, but I won’t take either for granted. I’ll keep working on healing, keep choosing her and the life we’re going to build together over the horrors of my past.

“I love you,” she repeats.

“And I you.” My voice is hoarse, and I have to clear my throat. “We should get back. I’ve made a mess of you.”

Her skirts cover the worst of it, but her leggings are shredded.

A bath. I can draw her a bath.

My mind fixes on the simple task, and my wings respond instantly, drawing the two of us up into the sky. I clamp one arm under her ass, pinning her dress down so that no one looking up catches a glimpse of what’s mine.

She could fly herself back, but I’m not willing to let her go right now. I’m grateful for the decision when she tucks herself more securely against me, dozing serenely.

Sleepy and well-fucked is a beautiful look on her. I’d happily remain in this little bubble of us all day if I could.

Unfortunately, the crowd of Fomorians approaching the newly rebuilt gates of her city brings reality crashing back down.

“What do they want?” I ask myself, cursing when the words cause Rose to squirm in my grasp, twisting until she, too, can see them.

Florian’s knights are already shouting orders from atop the wall, their bows trained at the gathering mass of blue.

It’s a standoff. The Fomorians aren’t leaving, but they’re not getting within shooting distance of the wall either. The knights can’t open the gates with the Fomorians there, and the returning refugees are stuck outside the safety of the city, laden with goods and children and unlikely to be able to flee when this gets messy.

All of the well-fucked languidness leaves my mate’s system in a rush, replaced by tension and resolve.

“They came back so quickly?” she asks, her disappointment and resignation palpable.

“I don’t think this is another invasion.” I shift her weight so I can run my fingers over Lox’s beak.

My eyesight sharpens, bringing the white-haired, blue-skinned crowd into sharp relief. I’m so used to them wielding crossbows and spears, wearing their war paint and armour, that it takes me a half-second to process what I’m actually seeing.

They look… broken.

My grip on my mate tightens, but it’s no use. I know what she’ll say, even before the glamour trickles over her ruined clothes, turning them to armour.

“Take me down there.”