by K. A. Linde
“I saw an estate much like Waisley though also like nothing else I’d ever seen. I was on a bridge in a garden. I crossed the beautiful visage toward the mansion home and found a giant of a man. He was in some kind of white dress draped across his huge figure. He stood proud over my father and beat him near to death. Someone was screaming from inside the house, begging him to stop. I could do nothing to stop it myself, but at the last second, the man turned, and he saw me. I screamed and was launched out of the dream.”
Fordham, who was normally so stoic, looked truly shocked by her words. “But that makes no sense.”
“I’m aware.”
“You never saw Tieran? You never faced the three challenges with him?”
“No.”
“You never chose each other above all else?”
“No,” she repeated.
“Then… how are you bound?”
She frowned and looked down. He inhaled sharply, as if suddenly everything made sense. All the pieces of the last week fit together for him.
“You’re not,” he whispered.
“No.”
“That’s why you’ve been failing all these months. Why you seem off during training.”
She met his gaze head-on. She had told him. He knew the truth now. She wouldn’t back down from it.
“Yes. We’ve been faking the bond all this time.”
“How?” he gasped out.
“The spirit plane,” she said.
“Like the raven psychopomp in the forest during our final trial in the tournament?”
“Sort of. Zina showed me how to access the spirit plane and find the signature of another’s magic. I can locate Tieran and speak to him anytime I want. We faked the second test that way.”
“So, what’s stopping you now?”
“We have to exit our bodies to enter the spirit plane. We can’t be present and on the spirit plane at the same time. When we try, I end up slipping off of him or not making the turn fast enough. He can fly just fine, but I can’t lead him.”
Fordham nodded. “That explains so much.”
“I guess so.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and sank lower. She didn’t want to answer that one. “I think it’s my turn, princeling. You’ve asked a few questions.”
He straightened, as if forgetting they were still playing a game. “Of course. I simply meant that I could have helped you through this. You didn’t have to do it alone.”
Kerrigan nodded, her throat tight at those words. “Thank you.”
“We can still figure this out.”
“Fordham,” she whispered. His eyes were bright on hers. “Who is Dacia?”
He went perfectly still. She’d asked him that question once before in a mountain room when she could have had him, if not for her mouth and her honor. He’d snarled at her then. He didn’t owe her an answer now. He’d made it clear that he owed her nothing. Still, if she was spilling secrets, she would see how far she could push him.
“I hoped you had forgotten.”
She laughed acerbically. “As if I could.”
He clenched his jaw. “Dacia was my… lover,” he said, choosing the word carefully. “We had been together many years. She wanted me to properly court her. She was a noble and of marriageable age, and everyone expected it of us. But the curse…”
Of course, the curse. The curse that made him second-guess everyone he cared about. For he was destined to hurt them.
“She tried to tell me the curse was fake—I’d only lost my mother to it; what did I know?”
She winced at those words. She’d said something similar.
“Finally, I agreed. I told my father that I was going to begin courting her publicly.” He ground his teeth. “The next day, she was captured on the outskirts of Ravinia Mountain, helping a group of humans and half-Fae escape their prisons.”
Kerrigan’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“She was a revolutionary, who believed in the rights of humans and half-Fae. She wanted to see the end of their enslavement and torture. I had no idea. She never once mentioned it to me in all of our years together. But when she was caught, she was brought before my father. I stood there while they accused her of treason and beheaded her on the marble floor of the throne room.”
Kerrigan gasped. “Holy gods, Fordham.”
His eyes were empty while he looked back to that moment as it all unraveled for him. “She denied my involvement to her last breath, but it was too much for my father. He didn’t believe her testimony. It was the moment that he turned on me, sending me into exile.”
Kerrigan covered her mouth, horror on her face. She’d known that he’d been exiled from his people. That he hadn’t known if he would be welcome back. But not all of… this.
“No wonder you hated me on sight,” she whispered.
He laughed without humor. “I hated everyone on sight after that. I’d lost the woman I was to be with, my kingdom, my entire life in one fell swoop. I’d done nothing but care for her, and look at how the curse repaid me.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t answer your challenge question?”
His eyes found hers across the moonlit spring. “You believe that I loved her?”
“You wouldn’t talk about her. You just said you were to marry her.”
“I thought that I loved her,” he confessed. “I believed it at the time. But how could I love someone that I didn’t know?”
“Then, why?”
“Can’t you see why?”
She tilted her head in confusion. She’d been certain that she knew why he hadn’t answered. Now, as his mask finally fell away, she wondered if she had been perfectly, horribly wrong.
“I…”
“It was you, Kerrigan,” he said, closing the distance between them. “It was always you.”
“Me?” she could barely get out.
“I know you. All of you.” He stroked one of her red curls out of her face and tucked a wet strand behind her ear. Her heart thrummed wild in her chest. “I have tried to resist wanting you and failed time and time again. I did not answer the question because I was not prepared to tell you that I loved you for the first time in front of an audience.”
Her gasp was nearly silent. She reached out with trembling hands and cupped his cheek. “You… love me?”
“With all of my heart.”
He drew in a step closer until their bodies were nearly touching. His lips hovered over hers. She could barely breathe as his hand slipped from her slightly pointed ear down to the hollow of her throat and across her collarbone. He continued his descent along her arm, to her waist, and landed on her hip. Then, he dragged her that last step forward, skin to skin. She hitched a breath, in shock at the feel of all of him pressed hard against her stomach. Her eyes widened as her hands came to brace against his chest.
It had been one thing the game they had played in the greenhouse. It had gotten too far. They had been drunk on faerie punch. It had been amazing, but not enough. Never enough. This was so so much more than that.
“I want this,” he told her. “And I’m terrified I’ll lose you.”
“You won’t lose me.”
“You don’t know that. You’re engaged to someone else. We’re both in mortal danger quite frequently.”
“I’m breaking off the engagement tomorrow,” she assured him. “And if we’re already going to be in danger, then we should enjoy what we have while we have it.”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t say that. I never want to rush with you. To take what we can in scraps of moments.”
She took his finger from her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. “If we don’t take our moments, someone else will take them from us. You love me, Fordham. I love you. You want this. I want this.” She drew his head down to hers, just a breath between their lips. “Please.”
A growl erupted from deep within him at that one word, the ounce of begging in her voice. She
knew that they should wait until everything was settled. Until there was no March between them. Until they were finished with Society training. Until the world no longer burned. But if they waited, they’d never have time. She was done waiting.
His mouth collided with hers with a ferocity born from primal longing. As if he’d spent all of his energy staying away from her, and now, he could no longer contain himself.
They crashed backward in the hot spring. Her exposed back hammered against the rock wall, cutting into her skin. He bit down on her lip at the same time. Blood welled in her mouth, but the pain was nothing compared to his hands on her skin and his mouth on hers and the feel of him pressing hard against her body. She had waited for this too. Waited in agony for him to see what was right in front of him.
“Gods, I love you,” he said, kissing down her neck.
She dragged her nails along his back, just wanting more, more, more. “Please,” she repeated.
His teeth dragged along her neck, and she shuddered all over. This was what she had been waiting for. The stolen kisses and moments would never be enough. Not from him. His hands slicked under the water across her bare skin. They caressed her hips, angled over her backside, and then slipped under her thighs. He lifted her effortlessly and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her eyes rounded at the first feel of him pressed so achingly hard against her.
“Ford,” she ground out.
But he was already moving, carrying her across the spring. She could have come apart at any moment. He was her undoing. He always had been. She had given herself up before, but it had been childish obsession. Not what they had. Not what was happening today. Fordham was her one and only. She had learned that the hard way. She refused to surrender this moment.
Fordham laid her backward on the steps of the hot spring. She lay naked against the wet stone for his eyes to rove over her. And he took her in appreciatively, as if she were the most glorious thing he had ever witnessed. She took in her full at the same time, her eyes widening at the sight of him as he came out of the water naked in all of his glory with water streaming down his beautiful body.
He smiled something fierce and primal. “Mine,” he growled, as he pressed a kiss to her swollen lips.
“Yes,” she breathed, beckoning him to her.
His body moved over her, discovering her in a whole new way. Her back arched, and she shifted, wanting more of him. He must have recognized that and his lips came back down on her. He shifted into position against her, and everything narrowed so closely. She groaned softly, a wave releasing through her body. Then he moved and finally, finally, they were joined.
The feeling was unfamiliar, almost painful. But then he was seated entirely and that pain passed. She released a harsh breath and opened to her eyes to look up at him. A coupling during the winter festival was more than a blessing. Fordham was unequivocally more than her heart could ever encompass, and to have him here, now, was almost too much to bear. Here, they were united as one. As they always should have been.
Water lapped at them as Fordham began to move, and soon they were meeting the fluidity of the water all around them. A stroke as perfectly timed as the tide and just as inevitable. Magic lit in response to them, as if the faerie lights from the party had never truly dimmed. It had just followed them to this moment. The moonlight touched the surface of the hot springs, brightening the water and forest beyond. Right before her eyes, frost drops bloomed to life. And then, miraculously, snow began to fall as if the very elements approved.
Fordham pushed a hand up into her hair and drew their lips together. Heat sparked through her as she hit the crest of a long wave. And everything crashed down all around her. She quivered in his embrace as he grunted and came unleashed in her arms.
After a moment, they lay, sprawled on the steps of the hot springs. They breathed heavily, releasing hot puffs of air into the sky. Snow touched their lashes.
Fordham pulled her body closer. “I fear to ask…”
“Ask,” she said, kissing his chest.
“Once your engagement has ended, may I court you properly?”
She laughed, leaning on an elbow. “And how do you explain this?”
His eyes were so sincere though. He wanted to do this right.
She pressed one more kiss to his beautifully swollen lips. “Yes. Once I break everything off, you can court me.”
He grinned devilishly. “Then, I believe we should do this a few more times before we get to that point.”
She laughed in relief and fell into his arms all over again.
43
The Geivhrea
Geivhrea dawned the next morning to a bright winter wonderland. Snow blanketed the ground in thick drifts, cloaking the forest and beyond. The temperature had dropped precipitously in the middle of the night, and Kerrigan might have noticed if she’d ever made it to her bed.
“No, don’t get up,” Fordham groaned as she tried to slip out of the covers.
She laughed and snuggled in close again. “We have to return to Rosemont today for the party.”
“Maybe we could stay here instead.”
“I wish. We were invited by the king and queen.”
He sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. “Politics,” he said dismissively.
“Come on, you,” she said. “We have to get moving.”
He dragged her in for another lingering kiss. “We didn’t sleep. Maybe we should stay in bed a little longer.”
“And I thought I was the bad influence.”
He grinned devilishly and pinched her rear as she slid out of bed. She swatted at him and pulled her shift back over her head. She found a thick robe in a wardrobe and drew it close around her shoulders.
“I should probably change before someone notices.”
A sharp knock at the door had her heart racing. She waved at Fordham as she hastened to hide behind the curtains.
“Yes?” Fordham called.
A servant, Mereda, peeked her head in. “Sir, Lord Argon sent me up here. Lord March has arrived from Rosemont for Geivhrea breakfast with the House of Cruse.”
Kerrigan bit her lip so hard that she reopened the bite from last night.
“We will break fast as soon as you have arrived. I must locate Lady Argon,” she said, purposely looking around the room, as if Kerrigan would jump out at any moment, “and prepare her. None of us would want Lord March to suspect she was not in her bed last night.”
“Thank you very much,” Fordham said with a nod. “I will be down promptly.”
The door shut behind Mereda, and Kerrigan breathed out a sigh of relief. “Gods, March is here? What is he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Fordham said, shucking off his sheets and pulling on breeches. “But I intend to find out while you’re getting dressed.”
She dashed to him and pressed one more firm kiss upon his lips. “I’ll only be a moment.”
Kerrigan peeked her head into the hallway, and when she found no one, she darted into her rooms, where Mereda was waiting. She cocked an eyebrow. “My lady?”
“Yes, yes,” Kerrigan said, waving her hand. “Let’s skip the lecture.”
She grinned. “He is quite handsome.”
Kerrigan laughed. “Quite.”
A half hour later, she descended the grand staircase in a dress fit for a queen attending an audience. Mereda had insisted that she’d change her again for traveling but that she had to make an appearance if her betrothed was in attendance. She’d been right. The minute March saw her, something hungry shone in his eyes. He was pleased with her appearance, especially the giant ring she’d retrieved and put back on her finger.
“What a surprise,” she said, hoping for enthusiasm.
“My lady,” March said. He bowed extravagantly and kissed her hand as soon as she finished her descent. “Happy Geivhrea.”
“To you as well. How did you manage the roads in these conditions?”
“Me,” a voice called, and Audria Ather stepped o
ut of the foyer, looking radiant and also perfectly apologetic. “He insisted that he had to see you for Geivhrea, and the roads were impassable.”
“Audria,” Kerrigan said. She pulled her into a hug, squeezing her a little too tight. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know,” she whispered, barely a breath. “I’m sorry.”
Fordham strode out of the foyer as well with Kivrin at his side. His eyes landed on the ring on her finger with disdain. He looked ready to skewer Ashby March. Her father smiled at the irony of it all.
“Shall we break our fast and then open presents?” he suggested.
They entered the dining room. She was seated beside Audria and across from March. Fordham was across from Audria while Kivrin sat at the head of the table. He blessed the gods before eating, and then they dived into the food. Kerrigan ate as daintily as she could while also shoving food in her mouth at every opportunity to keep from speaking to March.
Kivrin and Audria filled the holes of the conversation with ease. But by the time they were finished and ushered into the sitting room, Kerrigan was well aware of March’s foul mood. His animosity toward Fordham was becoming clearer and clearer. And Fordham’s shadows hovering tightly around him helped nothing. Her betrothed and the man she loved in the same room was a disaster waiting to happen. If Dozan were here, it would have been the icing on the cake of the most awkward Geivhrea ever.
Kivrin distributed presents like Father Geivhrea delivering the goods of spring. He must have been quick with new gifts because he had a ruby bracelet for Audria and an embroidered coat for March. She hadn’t thought she would receive anything from her father. It was her first gift from him in twelve years, and when she peeled back the brightly colored paper, a diamond brooch landed in her palm. Her eyes rounded as she saw the livery of the House of Cruse in the design—a raven and a rose twined in flight.
“It belonged to my mother. Mistress Enara wore it on the battlefield and the ballroom. I thought you might wear it tonight,” Kivrin said softly. “You no longer claim the House of Cruse, but I believe it still claims you.”
