Page 6 of Cathmoir’s Sons (Bad Boys of Bevington #5)

Chapter 6

Tessellations in Time

LAW

I wish I could fold time like a fan, make the inexorable march of minutes slow amongst the folds.

I wish I could make this moment stretch infinitely. So I could give my brother the hours, dozens of hours, I’ve had with our awakened mate. So she could say again and again that she loves him. Words she’s said to me but never to Luca. I can see how much they mean to him. His eyes are wet from more than the overwhelming pleasure of being with our fated mate.

But I don’t have any power outside this moment. I don’t have any way to give what I’ve hoarded to my brother. All I can give him is our mate’s undivided attention for their first time together.

I sit back on my heels and watch them. They’re beautiful together, his bright head against her dark one. Pale, fae skin entangled, showing the strength of shoulder and arm and thigh, while yielding to the tendon and bone beneath. Spots and stripes ghost up and down his ribs as he moves over her. This is the way I look when my mate holds me close. I know what he must be feeling. The way she clutches at him, welcomes him deep, all but demands that he fill her with his seed. The sudden rising of his body. Has he risen for any of his other lovers? I never did until our mate called forth my spines. Perfect, perfect ecstasy.

They rest together after finishing, his face buried in her neck, her claws trailing slowly up and down his spine. He murmurs to her, words I only catch the edges of, but I know he’s telling her how much he loves her. I’ve been where he is, held warm and close, the scent of her hair filling his sensitive nose, her limbs wrapped languidly around his. There’s nothing to feel but swelling, tumbling devotion in that moment.

Caileán laughs softly at something he says. She looks over at me and holds out her hand.

I take it and stretch out next to them.

“Your brother’s filling my ear with filth,” she says.

“Tell me.”

“He wants you to ride my face while he licks me clean. He’s very naughty.” She shivers. “And nippy.”

A low laugh rolls out of Luca.

“I heartily endorse this filth,” I say.

Caileán grins at me over Luca’s shoulder. “May I embellish your dirty designs? I’d like to wear someone’s fingers as a necklace during this siege on my senses.”

“Someone’s? You’re not picky whose?”

“I’m entirely flexible. Which may be necessary as I envision some physiological difficulties if you’re truly riding my face.”

“Luca and I are also quite flexible.”

“Cait?” she asks, her eyes lit with amusement.

“Cait,” I agree.

It turns out I’m not quite flexible enough to choke my mate while I straddle her shoulders and drive my cock down her throat. What’s more, I don’t trust myself to squeeze my mate’s tenderest flesh when she’s giving me unimaginable pleasure.

But Luca and I are a good team. He massages Caileán’s throat, keeping her head tipped back to the perfect angle, not objecting when my balls rub along his wrist. The noises he makes as he eats our mate to a screaming crescendo are sweetly obscene.

We collapse in a sweaty pile afterwards: Caileán lying across my chest, her legs draped over Luca’s hip. We worship each other with soft touches. I card my fingers through her hair, letting the tips of my claws scritch across her scalp, while Luca rubs slow circles over her knees. She sighs and trails her fingertips over my jaw.

“Tell me of Rhodes,” Caileán murmurs. “Is he well?”

“He’s recovering,” Luca says. “He’s still on bed rest or he would have come tonight.”

“And his mind?” Caileán asks. “You’ve both seen many battles, but that was his first life-or-death situation since his granduncle tortured him. How is he?”

Luca rubs his palm up and down her thigh. “He’s better. He was rocky at first. Nightmares?—”

“Sullen,” I interject.

Caileán flicks her claws against my jaw. “Is that an objective opinion, my love?”

“Yes, I’m completely objective,” I object.

Luca snorts. “He’s better. Fewer nightmares. Less ... sullen.”

Caileán hooks one of her necklaces with her claw and draws it off over her head. It’s a dozen small black beads on a leather thong. She holds it up in front of her and blows on the beads. They flare, glittering white and gold. Caileán flicks her claws so the beads rise in the air. She holds out a hand to each of us.

Luca and I take her hands. A warm pulse, an echo of afterglow, flutters between us. Caileán blows again on the beads and they flare: blue and red swirling among the white and gold. When the beads dim, Caileán releases my hand and catches the beads up with her claws. She hands the beads to Luca.

“For Rhodes. To help with the nightmares. And to warn us if his family gets too close to him.”

Luca tucks the beads under his pillow, then catches Caileán’s hand again. “Rho doesn’t talk much about his family.”

Caileán relaxes back into me, and I stroke her hair.

“With reason,” she says. “His own family committed unimaginable violence against him when he was still a boy. I understand why he wants to forget it.”

Nothing good ever came of ignoring a bid for power. “Hunger for power runs in his blood. Rhodes may want to forget, but those among his family who want to use him won’t.”

“No, they won’t,” Caileán agrees. “Rhodes will be a target for them, unless we stage a show of strength.”

“And by show of strength you mean ...” Luca trails off.

“I mean we hunt down the cousin who attacked him and kill her in a very public way,” Caileán says.

“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page,” Luca says.

“We are,” I agree. “I’ll put out the word among the Cait. We’ll find her.”

“When you do, bring her to Ceòfuar. We’ll deal with her there.”

My perfect, bloodthirsty mate. “Consider it done.”

“And now you, my love.” Caileán reaches up and scratches her claws gently along my jaw.

“And now me what?”

“You haven’t healed completely from that cursed tooth. I can feel the wound still biting you.”

The ache’s dulled but Caileán’s right. It hasn’t gone away.

I catch her hand and bring it to my lips, nibbling at the pads of her fingers. “I’m happy to suffer it for you.”

“But I’m not happy for you to suffer it,” she responds, caressing my chin and lip with the fingers not in my mouth. “Nor am I happy for Luca to flirt with the Mother’s threshold again. The patchwork done in duress has held. Your body has made further repairs. Let me show you the deep magic to finish what’s been started. But I warn you, this can only be attempted during times of peace, of intimacy and trust. Trying this on a battlefield is a sure way to lose yourself among the Shades. Promise me neither of you will attempt it. No matter how dire the situation.”

I nod quickly. Luca nods slowly. Caileán’s eyes, electric in the cool dimness of the room, hold my twin’s. “Never, Luca.”

“Never,” he repeats.

She smiles. “Give me your hands.”

We offer her our right hands automatically, but she reaches for our left hands. “Sinister hand always when working with wild magic,” she says.

“I’ve never been taught that,” Luca observes.

“So many of our ways have been lost,” Caileán responds. “My blood used to sing. Now there’s barely a murmur, even here in our hearthlands. Faery is fading. The wild magic is still strong, but it’s retreated to quiet places. There’s too much noise, too much iron and steel, in the world of men. For fae who have chosen to live in that world, alongside humans, we must open new doors, find new paths to the old magic, or we’ll diminish until we’re nothing more than humans.”

I glance at Luca to see how he’s taking this. He watches Caileán with wide, wondering eyes.

If she told him the world was going to end tomorrow, I think he’d believe her and ask what she wanted him to do between now and then.

With a smile, I return my attention to our mate. “Can you show us the way, my queen?”

“To the deep magic? Of course?—”

“To open new doors, to find new paths. I love Faery, but Cait live in the human world. Our shades now rest safe in your halls, but I don’t want to withdraw here permanently. The human world is full of wonders.”

Caileán nods. “The things my unawakened self knows are wondrous, indeed. They overwhelmed me at first. Human technology.” She laughs throatily. “The internet. It is a marvel.”

“What we do with magic, they do with technology,” Luca says. “In another hundred years, we won’t be able to tell the difference. In our father’s lifetime, their world has been completely transformed. I want to see where they’ll be in a hundred years. I want to be part of it.”

“Me, too,” I say.

Caileán lifts our hands to her face and kisses our ring fingers. “Then I will be a part of it with you.” She turns her left hand under mine and tangles my pinkie and ring finger with hers. She draws Luca’s hand against mine and twines her pinkie and ring finger with his. Her claws dig into my wrist; I bite down on a curse at the unexpected pain. Blood drips onto the sheets and disappears into the snowy linen.

“Cut my hand with your claws,” she instructs. “Deep magic always requires blood. It’s best done after mingling our precious waters.”

I nearly laugh at the description but a glance at Caileán’s serious face keeps the laughter in my chest.

I scratch her gently, drawing the faintest of red lines on her skin. Caileán rolls her eyes.

“Harder, my loves.”

Gritting my teeth, I dig in with my claws, puncturing the fleshy pad below her thumb until crimson wells.

Caileán chants softly. Words I almost know. “Rundle-flee, zunder-flow, mundal-flew ... Great Mother, I implore you ... mundle-flee, runder-flow, zundal-flew ... Night Mother, we consecrate our blood to you ...”

I squeeze my eyes closed as thick heat slides up my arm, under my skin, through my veins. It burns away the tiny hurts of strain and fatigue. When it glides over my ribs, it bites, burning and sharp, ripping my breath away. I pant against the sensation and focus on my mate’s chant, which eases the pain with each word. Finally, I breathe smooth and easy. Movement against my fingers makes me open my eyes. My mate tenderly kisses my fingers, Luca’s fingers, our bleeding wrists, until we’re healed.

She licks the last smears of blood off her lips and holds her arms out to us. We tumble into the pillows together as the deep magic drains away. It leaves the sweetest exhaustion behind. I understand then why this can’t be done anywhere but a place of complete safety. None of us could defend ourselves now.

I pull Caileán to me so I can kiss her forehead. “Thank you, my queen.”

“You’re welcome, my Cait. Sleep deep now.”

Luca spoons in behind Caileán and drapes his arm over both of us. She rocks forward into me with a soft grunt. I close my eyes and smile. If my brother wants another round, or just for her to hold his cock in her softness while we sleep, I don’t begrudge him that at all.

I wake to nipping kisses. Caileán’s face hangs over mine. “Come up to the top of the tower with me,” she whispers before she turns to wake Luca.

I yawn and stretch, feeling the smooth play of muscle over bone, without the jabbing stutter of the cursed injury. I smile at my mate and let her pull me out of our warm bed.

She spreads her mantle of feathers over the three of us as we walk through the quiet corridors. I don’t need the warmth, but I like feeling so close to her. Much better with our feet on the ground. I always want to spend time with my mate, but spending time flying with her is my least favorite form of togetherness.

There’s no true dawn, not in the Twilight Lands. But today, the first day of the new year, the Mother’s eye peeks over the horizon in a red-gold flare. The Mists draw back to a ghostly breath among the pines. I sweep my eyes across the horizon. The gray towers of the fae courts poke through the mist. I think I can see Cait House’s chimneys. My eyes are drawn to the far east, where a pale stone pile gleams among larch and cypress, touched with moonlight even in the New Year’s dawn. To the south, an ember-red tower juts like a bloody tooth above mossy, twisted oaks.

And to the west . . .

“Hraena,” Caileán breathes as the mists clear enough for us to see her lands.

A gray-green haze hangs low over the blackened stumps of tree and stone. A few sad saplings poke their heads out of still-smoking embers.

Caileán squeezes our hands. I feel her pull on her Element as she leans over the parapet and blows out a long breath. Luca leans with her, rubs his cheek against hers, and blows with her.

Their gaoithe sidhe tears through the westernmost Crow Queen’s court, dissipating the toxic fog, snuffing out the last guttering fires, which must have been burning for a thousand years. Heavy clouds roll in. I stretch out my hand. Lightning flickers between the clouds. With a deep boom of thunder, they unleash their wet burden. Veils of rain sweep across the black lands. A faint, green blush rises in their wake.

Together, we watch life return to those burnt, broken lands until the mists blot out the sunrise.

“Come with me to Cait House,” Caileán says.

“Our parents will be happy to see you, but why?” Luca asks.

“I want their advice on how to deal with the Holly King. Lying with you two softened my mood this morning, but overnight, the need to taste his life’s blood filled my mouth. My brow itched for the crown he wears. I wondered hour after hour if the Mother saved him only as a gift to me, to carry my crown until I could return to claim it. When my mind’s not overcome with midnight thoughts, I recognize killing him would be wrong on several levels. I don’t want to be overcome by my blood lust some dark night. We need a plan for how to deal with him.”

“A plan that doesn’t involve him becoming your consort,” I grumble.

Caileán curls her palm around my jaw, tapping her claws on my cheek. “My love, I belong to you and your brother and your brother’s love, as you three belong to me. There’s no space in my heart or my bed for any other.”

I press a kiss into her palm. “Should we go first and clear the way? It’s a holiday. Aine will be home. Seeing you will confuse her.”

“No, I owe her an explanation.”

I nuzzle in and kiss her ear. “She misses you. We all do.”

She strokes my cheek. “You will see more of me now.”

Luca’s arm snakes over her shoulders, under her mantle, and pulls me in close. We cuddle in tightly before Caileán grabs the aether with her claws and drags us to Cait House.