Chapter Eighteen
Annie
T he courtyard the next morning, sunlight dripping like honey through the leaves overhead. I walk slowly, my body aching in places I didn't even know could ache. Every step reminded me of exactly where Fenric’s hands, mouth, and otherparts had been last night.
We definitely didn’t make it to the feast.
Not that we'd planned it that way. We had fully intended to slip back in, late but presentable. But after we'd gotten dressed and were about to leave, Fenric had lifted me up and pinned me against the door of our chambers and… well.
I’ve never felt so thoroughly ravished or soloved.
Maeve is lounging on the fountain’s edge when I find her, fingers skimming the water’s surface. Her smirk when she sees me is instant, like a cat who’s spotted the cream.
“Well, look who's alive,” she purrs, flicking a droplet at me.
I sink onto the stone beside her, legs tucked carefully to avoid certain sensitive areas. “Barely,” I admit, biting my lip against a smile. “We, um… got sidetracked.”
Maeve laughs. “I bet. It's probably for the best, though. The feast was a disaster.”
I perk up. “What happened?”
She leans back, eyes glinting with mischief. “Garron was furious after the tournament. Would’ve started a brawl if Dakar hadn’t stepped in.”
“And?”
“ And,” she drawls, “he solved it by mating him to Bridget.”
“ What?”
Maeve’s grin widens. “Bridget wanted status. Garron wanted clan ties. Dakar gave themexactlywhat they deserved.” She wiggles her fingers. “Poof. Problem solved.”
A delirious laugh bubbles out of me. I’m torn between shock and sheer relief that both of them will be gone. “Beatrice is…diabolically brilliant.”
Maeve bumps my shoulder. “Isn’t she?”
The breeze carries the scent of lavender, and, for a moment, we just bask in the quiet. Then, I nudge her. “Have you seen Beatrice?”
Her smile dims. “She's locked herself in her rooms.”
My chest tightens, remembering how sad she had looked yesterday at the tournament, and I make a mental note to check on her, maybe bring her something sweet from the kitchens later.
Maeve stands, brushing off her skirts. “Dakar and I leave in a few days for Garron’s mating ceremony.” Then, her gaze flicks over my shoulder, and her smirk returns. “Speaking of mates…”
I turn to see Fenric striding into the courtyard, sunlit and unfairly gorgeous. His hair is damp, his shirt scandalously unlaced, and there’s aflowertucked behind his ear.
Mine , my heart thumps.All mine.
His gaze locks onto me, slow and molten, like I’m the only thing worth seeing in this world.
“There you are,” he says, voice rough enough to make my toes curl. “I woke up alone.Cruel.”
“I needed air,” I say, suddenly shy. “And my legs needed a break.”
Maeve snorts. “I’llbet!” She saunters off with a wink. “Try to make the next feast, yeah?”
Then, it’s just us. Fenric closes the distance, his thumb brushes my jaw, and I melt into it.
“You shouldn’t be out here.”
He tilts his head. “Why not?”
I nod toward the lavender, where bees hum lazily. “You’redeathly allergic, remember?”
He shrugs. “So?”
“So?” I gape. “Last time, your face swelled up like a squashed tomato!”
Fenric just smiles. “Then, I’ll die happy.”
“Fenric—”
He leans in, his lips grazing my ear. “I’d risk a thousand stings just to sit next to you.”
My heart somersaults. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Correct,” he kisses my temple.
And as the sunlight gilds us both, his hand warm in mine, I realize…I’d risk a thousand stings too.