by Allison Pang
For a moment I was tempted to ask what she looked like, but what did it matter? It certainly wasn’t any business of mine.
I let my head drift to lean against his shoulder, a soft breeze sneaking under my cloak to set a trail of goose bumps over my arms. We sat there for a few minutes and a contented warmth flushed over me.
A soft sigh escaped him. “And one morning as I left our trysting spot I was ambushed by what I assumed were nobles of the Unseelie Court. I thought they were merely unhappy with my liaisons with the girl. I expected they’d rough me up a little and let me go. After all, I was the prince of Faerie. Even if they intended something more, a ransom would not have been out of the question and would have netted them far more than my death.”
A bitter chuckle shook him, the muscles of his arms tensing at the memory. “They killed her outright before me, slicing her throat as though she was merely an afterthought.” He paused. “Which I suppose she was, to them.”
“Jesus, Talivar. I’m so sorry.”
His mouth twitched, the stalwart veneer finally starting to crack. He’d been holding back on this for a long time . . . but I could understand why. How do you explain that the last woman you courted ended up being butchered simply for loving you?
His nostrils flared. “I fought, of course, but in the end there were too many of them. They crushed my knee and took my eye and left me to lie in her blood upon the road.”
I frowned at him, my hand lightly brushing his bad leg. “But I thought your father did this to you. Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Oh, my father’s men were quick enough to demand recompense from the Unseelie Court for the injury caused to me. The Court, of course, refused, claiming they had nothing to do with it.”
An uncomfortable thought wended its way through my mind. “It was a setup, wasn’t it?”
He glanced down at me with an inscrutable gaze. “Aye,” he murmured. “My father’s own machinations gave me these injuries. His people carried it out . . . all for an excuse to crush the Unseelie Court beneath his boot once and for all. I was to make sure I accused the right people, of course.”
“But the Fae can’t lie,” I pointed out. “So that makes no sense.”
“Lying is not the same as omitting information. The fact that my father neglected to mention his part in the ruse means nothing. And no one would think of questioning the king directly. At the time, I myself had assumed it was the Unseelie Court that had attacked me—my father saw no reason to dissuade me from that opinion. Kitsune begged me to give her time to find out who my true attackers had been. At the very least, she could help turn them over to my father, instead of having the two Courts at war over me.” He sighed. “When I refused to testify in the interim, my father was so furious he forbade the healers from seeing to me.” A grim smile crossed his face. “And you’ve seen the outcome of that.”
“I can’t believe Moira would have stood by and let that happen. Your mother?”
“Ah, but Moira was only a little thing then. She had no real power. No way of influencing the Court.” His head tipped downward. “And my mother’s motivations have always been nebulous. I suspect there was a part of her just as happy to see me taken down a peg. I was already damaged goods by that point.”
“Making room for her daughter.” I scowled. “Moira told me as much. But your own family, Talivar? Those are the people who are supposed to be looking out for you.”
He gave me a wry smile. “You said it yourself. Sometimes family isn’t about what you’re born into, so much as the family you make.” His forehead dropped to rest on mine and my arms curled around his neck as he pulled me onto his lap. He buried his face in my hair, clinging to me tightly. So much pain and he’d borne it for so very long.
“When Kitsune found me again, bearing evidence of my father’s betrayal, I confronted him. He had me whipped before the court as a traitor. It was the only excuse he needed to invade the Unseelie Court. The Barras arose from the ashes of the aftermath of that battle, and I . . . I killed my father for it.”
His fingers curled, biting into my shoulder. “I tore out his throat with my bare hands, Abby . . . and spent the next twenty years running from the justice of the Court. Eventually I claimed sanctuary at the Barras and Kitsune took me in, giving me a chance to negotiate the terms of my surrender.” He waved his hand off in the direction of the tents with a weary snarl. “The rest of it can wait for another night. And so now you know what sort of man your husband is.”
I tightened my grip, all the pieces sliding into place. “For a prince, your life sure as hell hasn’t been very charming,” I murmured, pushing the hair away from his forehead. His blue eye glittered in the fading starlight and I kissed him.
“Not until now.” His mouth brushed mine, gently sliding over my cheeks and my chin, breath puffing against my face. “And if I have cause to love you for accepting me as I am, then so be it. There are worse reasons to love someone.”
I made a muffled sound of agreement at him as he kissed me again. This time his tongue darted out to skim the inside of my lips. Unusual for him to be so aggressive, but given what he’d just told me, I could understand his sudden need to assert himself.
I nipped him hard, pulling back to hold his face in my hands. “I do love you, Talivar. I do. But where can this go? You’re going to live a very long time, and I’m not. You’re going to have responsibilities that I can’t help you with.”
And it was true. I did love him. I could even run with the “friends with benefits” concept for a while if it wasn’t going to be long term—but I couldn’t give him my heart blindly. Maybe that made me more pragmatic than romantic, but I didn’t have time for romance.
Not until I got my own life straightened out, anyway.
On the other hand, who knew when that would happen? Dying had shown me that I couldn’t take my time for granted. Here and now was what it was, and there was something sacred about that too.
The elf hummed against my throat, punctuated by a series of tiny kisses. “The future holds what it holds,” he said finally, echoing my thoughts. “We cannot predict it. I have sat by the wayside of my own life for far too long, waiting for the right thing to happen at the right time. Trying to be the good man. The faithful son. The supportive brother. The cast-aside prince.”
He paused, one hand hovering over the expanse of thigh exposed by the riding-up edge of my dress. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“You are a good man, Talivar. Don’t stop.”
The ambiguous nature of my answer wasn’t lost on either of us. He didn’t stop to question it and I didn’t try to clarify. For the moment, I didn’t want to think of anything at all. I knew any chance of us ever being a normal couple was pretty much nil, and tomorrow those chances would be narrower still.
But tonight was still tonight. I pulled him down so that we tipped into the grass. A moment later and my breasts were freed, the neckline of the dress shredded. My nipples perked in the chilly night air; he let out a groan and fell upon them in a frenzy of gentle teeth and hard tongue, suckling one while his fingers paid court to the other.
My back arched and he moved over me, one arm wrapping beneath my waist to pull me closer. My fingers drifted into his hair, sliding over his pointed ears. His breath hitched at the attention, halting the rhythm of his mouth, and he broke off long enough to give me a hot, sloe-eyed glance.
I couldn’t quite keep the teasing smile from crossing my face, and tweaked the point of his ear. He bared his teeth in a snarl before returning to my breasts, the tips already aching at his momentary abandonment.
“I thought you said next time we’d be doing this in your bed.” I wiggled my hips at him in jest, my knees parting to let him sprawl between them. One hand slid up my thigh to give my ass a pinch.
“I can stop,” he said mildly, but his face told a different story. “Of course, then I’d have to stop doing this . . . and this . . . and this.” Each word was punctuated by a knuckle brush
ing over my sex, spreading me farther apart to dip into the wetness there.
“Uh. No.” I fisted my hand in his hair, shuddering as a wash of pleasure swept through me.
“Thought not.” He smiled at my whimper even as he fumbled with the belt at his waist, undoing the laces of his trews with quick fingers. I reached down to guide him toward me, his erection butting into my palm.
He let out a strained hiss as I stroked him, shuddering when I slid the edge of his pants down over the curve of his ass. Mouth tracing a heated trail between my breasts to my neck, he rolled on top of me, silencing my panting groans with a kiss. A moment later and he was inside me, hips shifting in a slow and easy rhythm. The frantic flutter in my belly quieted with each thrust.
Odd to be rutting on a hillside above the tattered remains of a kingdom, but here I was.
I said as much and he smiled against my mouth, capturing my soft cry when he angled me upward and sped up the pace. My hand roamed over the still-clothed shoulders and over the bare patch of skin at his waist, curling into the curve of his ass to spur him along.
He growled softly, nipping at my lower lip. “Wife.”
The sound of the word vibrated through me, driving home the reality of my situation. Also? I suddenly realized we weren’t using any protection. I opened my mouth to make this point, but he cut me off with another kiss, even as he reached between us to stroke my clit.
And then I was coming, a slow, rolling orgasm that left me gasping, my head tilting back in the grass. My nails bit into his flesh as his teeth grazed my ear, his own breath coming in hoarse groans. He stiffened, mumbling my name into my neck, sprawling on top of me with a last exhalation.
We lay there, entwined and silent except for the hurried huff of our breathing and the muted chirps of nearby crickets. Talivar’s fingers feathered through the tangle of my hair, the bun long since come undone.
My questioning brain had fallen silent, sated by answers and the soft thrum of pleasure that continued to ripple over my skin. He rolled over and tucked me in beside him, wrapping the cloak over both of us.
For a moment I debated bringing up the lack-of-protection thing, but what would be the point? What was done was done.
And I still needed to find a way to get home.
“Love you,” he murmured, shifting me in his arms so that his body curled tightly around me.
My eyes drifted shut at this admission, but somehow I couldn’t quite manage to say it back. If he noticed, he said nothing, and a moment later, I slid away into the darkness of sleep, his breath light against my neck.
Eight
Morning came in a fog of warmth. I was no longer outside, wrapped in the dew and my lover’s cloak like some sort of vagabond romance heroine. I was disappointed by this, although the feather-stuffed bedding beneath me was probably a hell of a lot more comfortable than wet grass.
Judging by Talivar’s pile of belongings in one corner I was probably in his tent. It certainly wasn’t mine, though how I got here I couldn’t remember. The elf in question was nowhere to be seen.
I rolled over with a sigh, tension knotting my stomach. Even though we’d only been traveling for a few days, I had the sick sense that my life was slipping away. How much time had passed in the mortal world? Would I arrive home only to find my mortal friends were now far older than me?
Sonja’s words pattered through my brain. If they all thought I’d died . . .
My nostrils flared as I bit back a rush of panic. Sonja would tell them. She had to. Visions of being trapped on the wrong side of some invisible wall, shouting at people to hear me, filled my head.
Oh, but I had been there too, hadn’t I? Maurice had trapped me in a painting . . . and Ion had been the one to find me. The others had helped set me free. The thought of waiting for them to do it again was irritating in the extreme.
I traced my fingers around my neck. The abrasions were slowly fading, but some part of me knew I would never really be whole again. The bells in my hair chimed, but there was something mocking about the sound. The weight of it pressed heavy on my chest.
Abruptly, I threw off the cloak. I was still dressed in the shredded remains of the blue silk thing from the night before, but I was done with looking prim and proper.
I wanted some pants, goddammit.
“You decent?”
Before I could even answer, a white muzzle slipped through the tent flap.
Phineas blinked owlishly at me. “You’re awake?”
“Obviously. And nice of you to knock.”
“Not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
I scowled at him. “Don’t remind me. Be useful for once and help me find something to wear.” I looked around the tent. “That’s not a skirt,” I added.
“Not planning on being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen for the next few years?” He arched a brow, narrowly dodging out of the way of my swiftly following foot. “Joking.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I waved him away, fighting between the urge to pace around the room or simply sink to my knees in despair. What the hell was wrong with me? “Where’s Talivar?”
Phineas shrugged. “He was called away to do something kingly, no doubt. A liaison from the Faery Court arrived this morning, demanding your return.”
“Word gets around fast.” I frowned at the inside of the tent, finally snatching up Talivar’s cloak to throw it over my shoulders. “Don’t suppose they’ve got anything to eat out there.”
“Mmmph.” He paused, his ears twitching. “Nobu is here too.”
A chill ran through me at the mention of the daemon’s name. “Shit. I was sorta hoping the Tithe thing would go away.”
I stared at Phin, panic lurching in my heart. “You don’t think he’s here to try to . . . uh . . . collect me?”
“I suspect your husband would have something to say about that. Besides, the time limit’s not up yet. He’d have no cause.”
“Wonderful.” I poked my head outside the tent flap, relieved to see the usual hustle had apparently slowed down some. Phineas brushed up against my leg and I glanced down at him. “Why are we still here, anyway? I thought the Barras was required to be on the move every twenty-four hours.”
“There’s a lot that’s changed,” he said quietly. “The rules of the game reset when Talivar took the crown.”
“I’m not even remotely interested in playing. I just want to get out of here.” I slipped out of the tent and struck out into the now somewhat familiar mishmash of awnings and encampments. “But first, I’m going to get some new rags if it kills me.”
Not that I had anything to pay for it with—but hell, I was the King’s TouchStone and consort. That ought to be enough to get me something on credit.
I trotted down the makeshift rows for a while, vaguely aware that I was in the Lower Crescent. “Now, where the hell is the Hive . . .”
“Perhaps I might be able to help with that?” Nobu’s smooth voice purred from the shadows. He moved beside me with all the grace the bulk of his dark wings would allow, which was considerable. He was dressed far more conservatively than I’d seen him before, his spiky hair dyed a muted dark blue at the tips. “You’re a rather hard person to get ahold of, Abby Sinclair.”
I tried not to flinch and kept on walking. “Death will do that to a person.”
“Clever girl.” His voice held smug amusement.
“There was nothing clever about it,” I snapped, whirling on him. “If you think I did it simply to get out of our deal, then you’re mistaken. Believe it or not, I actually do honor my word. And if I was going to try to escape I sure as hell wouldn’t have chosen to get my head half bashed in to do it!”
His face sobered. “For what it’s worth, I actually believe you.”
“Serves you right anyway.” I turned away and kept walking.
“You’ve grown a stiffer spine since I last saw you. Interesting.”
I waved him off, marching toward the first storefront that appeared to sell clothin
g. “I don’t think we actually have any business, Nobu. So if you’re here to chat, you can be on your way.”
He eyed my neck. “I can no longer sense the Key’s presence. It’s true, then? That Maurice escaped with it?”
I stiffened, not needing Phin’s warning cough at my ankle to keep my mouth shut. “Does it matter?”
“It might.” He tugged on my hair, pausing when the bells chimed. “Faery owes us the Tithe, true . . .”
“You tricked me with the lethe bullshit, so don’t come crying to me because I inadvertently spoiled your plans.”
“You haven’t technically spoiled anything,” he said mildly. “One way or the other the Tithe must be filled.”
“My wife will not be filling it,” Talivar said coolly, shoving his way between us and removing Nobu’s hand from my arm. The prince was an imposing figure in his own right. “And unless you have any further business here, you are no longer welcome in my kingdom.”
The daemon blinked, his dark eyes darting between me and Talivar. “How very interesting, indeed.” He bowed formally. “Another time, perhaps, Your Highness.”
“I doubt that.” Talivar’s gaze held steady as the winged daemon strode off.
The prince finally tore himself away as Nobu disappeared into the crowd. “What did he want from you?”
“The Key. He wanted to know if I still had it.”
Talivar glanced in the direction Nobu had gone. “He’s up to something.”
I snorted. “Who isn’t? I didn’t give him an answer, but he probably figured it out anyway. What can I do about it? Maybe if he knows I don’t have it, he can go bother Maurice.” Which would be a total disaster. The thought of Hell holding that sort of power was mind-numbing.
I pointed at a pair of leather trousers hanging from one of the nearby stalls. “What I really want right now is those.”
The prince’s mouth twitched. “Anything for milady.”
