Chapter 11
Fawn silently followed Callum in a daze, the imposing and beautiful king trailing behind her. She didn’t know his name or which kingdom he ruled—only that he thought she was his mate.
Callum stopped at a door in the guest quarters and gestured for the king behind her to open it. It must be the king’s room , she thought.
“Thank you, Callum,” her supposed mate said, shaking the older man’s hand.
Callum turned to Fawn, who fought to look unaffected. “Dean is a good man, and you are his mate. He won’t hurt you.”
Dean . “Allegedly,” she muttered.
Dean frowned at her, bid Callum goodnight, and ushered her inside. Like any other royal guest room, the sprawling space boasted ornate rugs and furnishings with scrollwork and gold detailing. Utterly gaudy, in her opinion.
“If you think this is ridiculous,” Dean said with a wry grin, “wait until you see the Garden Palace. My mother’s taste in decor makes this place look plain.”
“You’re from the Garden Kingdom?” At least she knew his name and kingdom now.
“I am,” he confirmed. “Have you ever been?”
She walked further in, feigning interest in anything but him to collect her thoughts. “No, but I grew up in the garden region of the Human Kingdom.”
She stopped, heat blooming at her back. Tilting her head back, she arched a brow at the Garden King. “Do you always stand this close to people?”
He grinned down at her. “Is it too much?” Dean stepped back half an inch. “Better?”
She chuckled despite herself and spun to face him. “I think there’s been a mistake. I can’t be your mate.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
Sighing, she tucked her hair behind one ear and pointed at the rounded tip. “I told you earlier that I’m half-human.”
Dean reached forward and traced the top of her ear, sending tingles across her skin.
“I know. Why would that matter?” Fawn opened her mouth and closed it.
Opened it again. The Garden King tapped his chest. “There’s no mistake.
I can feel your stronger emotions when you don’t shut them off.
I felt you laugh earlier, and I can feel your confusion now.
” He dropped his hand and studied her face.
“You are remarkable at hiding how you feel. I’m not sure how much you know about the royal fae and their mates, but the gods told me your name when we were thirteen. ”
Then why hadn’t he claimed her? “You didn’t come for me,” she stated, keeping the accusation minimal.
“My father looked for you,” he assured. “He checked the birth records in every fae kingdom but found nothing.”
There’d be no record of Fawn in the fae kingdoms because she’d been born in the Human Kingdom—but so had Amelia, and Rennick had found her.
Sensing Fawn’s skepticism, he added, “There had never been a human mate in the history of Eden until now, and all fae children are raised in the fae lands to harness their magic. My father had no reason to check the Human Kingdom’s records.”
Anger not her own prickled Fawn’s insides, matching the storm brewing in the young king’s grey eyes.
“When we were fourteen, I felt grief and agony, then the bond went quiet. My father decided to travel to the Human Kingdom for lack of other options. The other kingdoms had once again denied having any record of you.” Dean swallowed hard.
“They showed him your death certificate and informed him you and your parents died in an accident.”
Fawn stared at the floor. That didn’t make sense at all. Did someone think she died in the rebel attack? But that was in the Mountain Kingdom. “My parents died,” she confirmed. “But that wasn’t in the Human Kingdom. It was here.”
Dean looked ready to murder someone, and his anger simmered in her chest. It felt strange to think of the foreign sensations as his, but since meeting him, they’d matched his demeanor, and with each passing second, she believed his outrageous claim a little more. “You’re angry,” she observed.
His light grey eyes met hers. “I am, but not at you.”
Not knowing what else to say, she spotted a pair of plush chairs in the corner and sat. “Is there a way to confirm I’m your mate?”
Everything made too much sense to be wrong but being mated to a king sounded too good to be true, especially one who looked like Dean. Fate hadn’t exactly been kind to Fawn, and she needed every assurance she could get.
He dropped into the chair across from her and lounged back. “What day is your birthday?”
She rattled it off quickly and his lips tipped up on the side. “That’s my birthday too. The gods whispered your name into my mind when I turned thirteen, and I can feel you when you let your emotions slip.” He’d said as much, but it didn’t hurt to double check.
Holy shit, I’m the Garden King’s mate, she panicked inwardly. Now is not the time to lose control, Fawn. Calm the fuck down.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Do you not feel me?”
His question doused her panic, leaving only foolishness in its wake. How could she be so stupid as to not realize she had felt someone else’s emotions all these years?
Fawn’s thoughts drifted back to that day when she’d worked up the courage to ask her mother for help. It was shortly after she’d turned thirteen.
“I don’t feel like myself,” she’d told her mother. “Sometimes I think I feel two different ways at the same time. Is there something wrong with me?”
Her mother hadn’t asked for an explanation; she had merely laughed and smoothed Fawn’s hair from her face. “No, sweetie. It means you’re about to start your monthly courses soon. It’s part of growing up.”
“ If feeling like a mess means growing up, I don’t want any part of it,” she’d declared sullenly.
Her mother was human, and humans weren’t taught much about fae.
Fawn’s father wanted his daughter to know about her other half and would tell her stories at night before bed.
Her mother never stayed for his lessons, calling it “father-daughter time.” Fawn had assumed her mother already knew the ins and outs of fae, but what if she hadn’t?
The woman had always been wary fae, even more so after they moved to the Mountain Kingdom. It was a miracle she’d married one.
Dean’s voice pulled Fawn back to the present. “Did I lose you?”
“I can feel you, but it’s faint,” she said slowly. “My mother said it was what happened to teenagers.”
“Faint?” He stared off, running a hand along his jawline. “When a mate feels something strongly, the other can feel it clear as day.”
Fawn considered his words. “That’s not what this is.
Right now, I feel a confusion that’s not my own, but it’s not strong or clear.
It’s like an afterthought.” She recalled something Amelia said the first day they met.
“Amelia said she couldn’t feel Rennick’s emotions at all because she didn’t have fae magic.
” She pointed to herself. “My magic is almost non-existent.”
Dean ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the perfectly styled locks. “Consider yourself lucky. There wasn’t much good to feel for most of my life.”
Memories of the somber loneliness sometimes flooding her surfaced.
The hatred. The hopelessness. As she aged, the loneliness and hopelessness stayed, but the hatred faded, replaced with laughter and…
oh gods . Every drop of blood drained from her face when she realized if she could feel his arousal, he could feel hers.
His head jerked up, his eyes narrowing. “What are you thinking about? I can feel your mortification.”
Fawn couldn’t speak. She loved displaying her body for others to enjoy because it made her feel powerful. It also turned her on. Did he feel that every time she danced? Every time she fucked?
She gaped. All the times she’d feel flickers of arousal for no reason… hell, she’d even come a few times from the unexpected attacks. If possible, she whitened even more. Had she been feeling him fuck someone else?
She didn’t know why the thought pissed her off. They didn’t know each other, and she’d been far from innocent. Still, the thought of feeling him fuck another person made her want to tear him apart.
“Fawn.” Dean’s voice snapped her out of her spiral. His large body kneeled in front of her, and his large hands encased both sides of her face. “What’s wrong?”
Taking a deep breath, she shoved everything down.
“Stop,” he snapped. “Don’t hide yourself from me. We’re in this together, and I can’t help you if I don’t know how you feel.”
Fawn removed his hands from her face. “You could take cues or ask like a normal person.”
“Fine,” he conceded. “I don’t need to feel your emotions to see your pretty face is the color of death. What’s wrong?”
She cursed inwardly. If they truly were mates, and at this point she had no doubt they were, they would marry and have a child anyway. Forever was a long time to keep secrets from one another.
Fawn cleared her throat. “What exactly can be felt through the bond?”
Dean’s large hand rested on her knee and his finger tapped as he thought. “Any strong emotional response.”
Is being aroused a physical response, emotional response, or both? Shit, she didn’t know.
“Fawn?” His knuckle lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his amused eyes.
The words burst out of her before she could stop them. “Can mates feel each other fuck?” Of all the ways she could have asked, she picked the worst fucking one.
Dean froze, and Fawn briefly wondered if she should jump out of the window to avoid the rest of this conversation. Sex didn’t embarrass her, and she danced naked for strangers often, but feeling his interactions against his will felt invasive.
Knowing someone felt hers… well, with the initial shock worn off, the more she thought about it, the more she liked it. Having someone feel you isn’t much different than having them watch you. She squirmed a little, and Dean’s hand on her knee tightened.
She focused on his emotions inside her. White-hot rage.