Page 66 of Fey Sovereignty

I hate the conclusion I’m drawing to, but it makes sense. In many ways. The fact he is so surprised, is only one clue out of dozens.

He nods again, this time with a blush racing along his cheekbones. He looks away.

My heart is pounding like crazy. My muscles are all jittery. His first kiss. His first kiss is mine. It is something to be proud of. An honour I will cherish forever.

I smile and run my gaze over him. He looks calm. Dazed and fucked out. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to release him.

“Changed your mind about murdering me?” I ask.

He nods, and I set him free. Freeing his hands and stepping back from him. Giving him space and allowing him to move.

He lowers his arms and rubs his wrist. Guilt coils through me. Was I too rough?

“Changed your mind about telling Dyfri?” he asks.

He does a good job of sounding nonchalant, but then he ruins it by swallowing nervously and glancing down.

I run my finger along his soft cheek and tuck an errant lock of golden hair behind his pointed ear.

“Yeah,” I breathe softly.

He sags in relief and I want to kiss him all over again. What he did to Dyfri is probably Llywelyn’s biggest secret. For many years, only Iestyn knew. Until Llywelyn trusted me enough to tell me. My threat must have hurt him and cut deep. It must have felt like a betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He nods again. “I’m sorry too.”

My heart does a little skip. What a rollercoaster the last couple of hours have been. I think I have experienced every emotion under the sun. I’m so frigging glad we seem to be settling on this calm, tender affection. I could get used to this.

Images of Llywelyn knitting by the fire in a cosy cottage flow through my mind. I shake my head to shoo them away.

“You are allowed to have secrets,” I say. “But not ones that affect the mission.”

He looks up at me and bites his bottom lip.

“And I need to know everything about Iestyn.”

He stares at me intensely for a long, long moment. Then he sighs heavily.

“May I have a drink first?”

I chuckle and ruffle the top of his head, ignoring his squawk of indignation.

“Sounds like a deal.”

Chapter thirty

Gah! My hair is a mess. I really shouldn’t have kept putting off taking care of it. Now I will never get these knots out.

I glare at my reflection in the mirror of Llywelyn’s dressing table. A dishevelled mess of a man glares back at me.

I suspect I’m not only annoyed about my hair. I’m frustrated that Iestyn isn’t anywhere I can find him and kill him. The things Llywelyn told me are going to givemenightmares. Just from hearing about them. No wonder Llywelyn can’t sleep at night.

A glimmer of white and gold behind me makes my heart flutter. Llywelyn walks into the room and glides up to me. He gently takes the wide-toothed comb from my fingers and takes over detangling my hair.

His touch is careful, yet confident. Practised and at ease. I’m in good hands. My shoulders slump and I sigh.

He leans forward and picks up one of the bottles of oil. As he pours it onto my hair, the sweet smell fills the air.