Page 16

Lonan

A nnoyance and wrath are warring inside me, but as I return to my room, seeing Oleander there, in my bed, looking so... vulnerable, all thoughts flee.

I take a deep breath as she silently starts to plait her hair. “Would you like to use my bathtub?”

She blinks. “No, I’d like to use mine as soon as that body is removed.”

I shake my head, “Absolutely not. You’re sharing my rooms now, like it or not. You can keep those rooms for when you want to be alone; myself or one of the Circle will be checking them before you enter. But you’ll sleep here.”

“What? No! Nope, not happening.” She glares at me.

My patience snaps and I growl, “Your safety is of the utmost importance. We need you for the transition of power. Do not push me on this, Ollie.”

“And what if I do?” She tilts her chin up imperviously. Even though I don’t generally take bullshit from anyone besides Kai, I normally find her pique adorable. But not right now.

“Then I’ll call Kai up here to put you over his knee and spank your bare ass while I pleasure myself to the scene.”

She gawps at me, mouth opening and closing a few times. Eventually she sputters, “You’d never!”

I arch my eyebrows, fully angry enough to enact this. “Try me, little Queen.”

Her look turns menacing but she sits, silent.

“No, no bath. I would like my nightclothes and my book though.”

She still sounds annoyed, but I’ll take it.

I nod. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

I slip out of my rooms, still in my towel and quickly grab those and few other things from her rooms.

When I return, she’s just as she was, and I’m again struck by the image of her in my bed. I hand her her nightgown and turn my back as she stands.

A moment passes and she says, “I’m decent.” She pauses as my mind runs away on how she’s entirely more than decent when she says shyly, “Are those... your gill slits?”

I turn back to her. “Yes. Would... you like to touch them?”

She wrinkles her nose, a worried look on her face. My heart drops but she says, “It wouldn’t hurt you?”

She isn’t disgusted, she’s concerned.

“Not unless you’re rough.” I arch an eyebrow and she meets my gaze with a loaded look. We both chuckle at the same time.

She steps forward, her linen night gown with pearl buttons clingy in the right places. Her hand reaches out and I make sure to be still.

She touches me, gently, just below where my chest tattoo ends, fingers tracing my gills. They flare and she makes a surprised noise, withdrawing her hand.

“Tickles a little,” I explain, still frozen.

She reaches back out and touches them a bit harder. “Why are they here, not on your neck?”

“It’s where my Mother’s were. Just an evolutionary quirk in an attempt for an advantage.”

“Do they work?”

“Of course.”

Her other hand raises to touch the gills on the other side as well. I look down at my mate and struggle for control of my cock. The sight of her touching me is fucking intoxicating though.

“Ishkae are rare,” she quietly muses. “Powerful.”

“Mmm,” I agree.

“Were your parents Ishkae?”

I tilt my head, still staring at her hands on my body. “No. Mother was a siren. Father was an Aestus.” I pause, smiling. “Here I am, telling you all about me again.”

She blushes. “Fine, let me ask two more questions, then you can ask me for two truths.”

“Five,” I counter.

She huffs. “Three.”

“Fine, but I get to ask at least one question in response.”

She nods as her fingers press into my gills further.

“Are these tattoos or markings?”

“Tattoos. I got them when I came of age.”

Another tiny nod from her. She’s silent a long while.

“Are you going to ask your other question?”

She flashes me a smile. “I don’t have one yet, just wanted a freebie in my back pocket.”

“Sneak.” I beam down at her. “Fine, tell me a truth.”

“I missed dinner because I was at Nell’s home getting fitted for a few dresses more becoming of the Commander’s soon to be wife.”

I grumble. “That was cheap, but I had wondered where you were. I’d prefer you joined me for dinner in the evenings and that you took a guard when you left the keep.”

In reality, I had been a ball of nerves, worried for her and near to ordering the entirety of my guard out to search for her. Only the image of her rage had held my hand.

“Alright,” she responds, still stroking my gills as I battle for control.

She’s silent a bit and I open and close my hands a few times as I tell myself I am not allowed to touch her.

She tracks the movement but doesn’t flinch. She stares at my chest as she near-whispers, “I have poor control of my magic because I had no mentor or parent to teach me during my years of development.”

I think on that, determined to make my question count. Only powerful magic users of each variety need to learn detailed control. And the years during which you need training are a pretty wide range; about ages twenty to thirty. An older faeling, but only just reaching majority at thirty. I roll a few thoughts around my head, trying to make sure that my question will gain the most information about my little mate as possible.

I finally settle on “Where were you during that time?”

She flinches, slowly withdrawing her hands from me. I quickly catch them in mine and ease her hands flat to my chest as I cradle them.

She answers without looking up. “Locked up beneath RedWater Castle.”

Yup, I’m killing Alder personally and slowly.

I breathe through my nose, trying to get my anger under control. She must feel it though as she pulls away from me.

“No, sweetheart, please, let me hold you. I’m not mad at you, of course, you wouldn’t think that?”

She freezes, but slowly I feel her body relax into mine. I wrap my arms around her, aching at the press of her against me. She’s perfect, she’s so perfect.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” I whisper. “You can trust me.”

Her body leans into me harder, like she wants to believe me and I hold her tighter. I’ll keep her safe. This little Fae, who has seen horrors and seeks revenge, bold enough to approach and lie to her family’s enemies, with such a strong personality and the obvious need to both take, and surrender, control.

I kiss the top of her head, her white hair mussed and braided, and force myself to release her. She steps back, taking a deep breath.

She clears her throat, “I believe I’m ready for bed.”

I nod and turn, grabbing a pair of loose slacks to sleep in and heading to the bathroom to change.

When I emerge, she has wrapped her hair up onto the top of her head and is in my bed, snuggled down, surrounded by my blue blankets and pillows, looking ethereal. She’s holding her book and utterly focused upon it.

I grin and ease into the other side of my bed, grabbing a stack of letters I need to read.

As I settle in, Ollie looks over and arches an eyebrow. “A gentleman would offer to sleep on the couch.”

I chuckle. “I’m not a gentleman, sweetheart, and I’ll be happy to show you why over and over again, whenever you wish it.”

Her now-rounded cheeks pink, a shade off her pretty eyes, and she flicks her glance back to her book silently.

I grin as I tear open the first message.