Page 19 of How To Please A Princely Fae (Wild Oak Woods #3)

KIERAN

“ I remember,” I repeat, running my hand through my hair, which only manages to send more snow and water all over the floor. “I never… I don’t want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t respond, the devastation and hurt in her lovely eyes wounding me more deeply than any hurt distributed in my mother’s toxic court.

“Well.” Her chin lifts, her shoulders back. Her throat works as she exerts that iron will over herself once more, but I recognize this now for what it is—a shield. Armor of a sort, the kind that’s come with being so afraid to be hurt that she’s spent a lifetime crafting it.

And now I’m the reason she wears it again.

“I should have told you the minute I started to remember everything, but I…” The right words fail me.

“You should have,” she agrees, and when her voice breaks on the last word, it cracks something deep inside me.

I go to my knees, needing to be near her, needing to be eye-to-eye, on even ground.

Even when the ground seems to be filled with traps I don’t know how to navigate.

“I’m not perfect, Willow, and I never will be. But I am yours, and nothing I remembered will change that.”

Her chin wobbles, her eyes leaking tears now.

I press my finger to one, then kiss the salty liquid from it, unwilling to waste even this from her.

“You are mine. My mate.” I push the sleeve of my shirt up, so rough the button pops off the cuff in my haste. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve remembered. The magic we have is permanent, our bond is permanent.” The mate mark’s still dark and strong against my skin.

The sight of it reassures me, but when I find Willow’s gaze again, pain rockets through me.

Tears stream down angry red blotches on her cheeks, and the wobble in her chin has progressed to a full-on lip quiver.

“None of that, my love,” I tell her, pressing my finger to her mouth. I don’t understand why she’s so angry. “I am yours.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you remembered? Is it because you hate me so much? And now you’re stuck with me because of some mate magic you didn’t want or ask for?”

Oh. Oh.

“No.” I can’t help the laugh of surprise and relief. I snatch her hand from her lap, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “No. Is that what you’re upset about? You think I… am stuck with you?”

“Like I’m a thorn in your side,” she says miserably, sniffling. “A poisonous, toxic thorn?—”

I catch her lips against mine, effectively cutting her off. The kiss deepens and she softens in my arms, before pulling away.

“Answer the question,” she snaps, wrapping her arms around herself like she’ll float away without them.

“I was an asshole,” I tell her. “I acted abominably. Because I knew. I knew, Willow, the moment I walked into your life, that I wouldn’t be walking out of it. I knew as soon as I let my guard down around you, the moment I finally kissed you, that you would be mine.”

“And you hated that so much that you treated me like that?—”

“Never,” I tell her, not laughing this time, shaking my head. “I treated you like that, kept you at arms’ length, because I will never, not in a thousand lifetimes, deserve you. I wanted more for you. I am the toxic thorn in your side, my Willow. I would be the one that dragged you down.”

“You’re a fae prince,” she says, her jaw hanging open in surprise.

I press my palm against the side of her lovely face. “I am the unwanted spare to the Underhill throne. If my mother ever decides she wants me back or to end me once and for all, I’m a sitting duck and always have been. Being with you puts you in danger, too. You are everything that is pure and green and new in the world, the spring that’s finally thawed the winter of my life.”

She lets out a shaky breath, fresh tears streaming down her face.

But she leans into my hand.

Leans into my hand, and closes her eyes.

“I’m not scared of your mother.”

Of all the things she might have said, that statement is the furthest from what I expected.

This time, I can’t hold in my laugh, and she opens her eyes and smiles back at me weakly.

“I wanted to protect you. I wanted more for you than what an exiled ass of a fae prince could offer you. But I forgot that. I forgot all the reasons I should selflessly let you go, and now you’re mine, Willow witch. I refuse to let you go.” I kiss her lightly, the slightest brush of our mouths together, and the feel of her is as electric as it always is. “I refuse to be anything but selfish where you’re involved.”

She laughs too, though the lovely sound is broken by another shaky breath, and I pull her into my arms, just needing to hold her close, to prove to myself that she is whole and here and mine.

“You’re stuck with me, Willow, not the other way around. Forgive me for wanting the fantasy of me not having a horrible past to last a bit longer. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I swear on my life that I will spend the rest of it making it up to you.”

“Does it come with this bread and stew?”

“What?” I tilt my head, confused.

“Does the rest of your life making it up to me come with more of this stew and bread?”

I snort, my eyebrows lifting as high as they can physically go. “That can be arranged.”

“Good.” She sniffles again, then wraps herself fully around me, her arms hooked around my neck, her cheek wet against my collarbone.

When her legs wrap around my waist, I decide I’m done with dinner.

I’m ready for dessert.