Road To Winter (Fae's Captive #2)(16)

“People do, but they’ve usually known each other longer than a week.”

“I don’t need a week to know you.” I gently set her back a little so I can meet her eyes. “I knew you the moment I saw you. The moment I felt you in that palace. You’ve been in here ever since.” I tap my chest. “And I will do everything in my power to show you how much you mean to me.”

She sighs. “Arguing with you about this is pointless, isn’t it?”

“It’s about time!” Beth calls from where she’s kneeling to start the fire. “She finally figures it out.”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.” Taylor turns and heads toward the other changeling.

A dick? What’s a dick?

“I tried to tell you, an alpha fae who’s found his mate cannot be reasoned with. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. He’s practically losing his mind because he hasn’t claimed you yet. You are his entire world. Get used to it. It’s never going to change.”

“Leander.” Gareth waves me over to where he and Thorn are talking. “You calm?”

I crack my neck. “As long as Thorn respects—”

He kneels, his head bowed. “Forgive me, my king. I didn’t realize she was your mate.”

My brows shoot up, and Gareth looks like he’s been gut punched. Thorn is a jokester, not the sort who offers to kneel or speaks so seriously.

“Rise, Thorn.”

He does, and we grip forearms. “I want to offer her my oath as soon as possible.”

“You are welcome to, but first, tell me why you’re here.” Crossing the boundary line between winter and summer is forbidden without express leave granted by both rulers.

“We’ve had a breach at High Mountain.” Thorn’s face hardens. “Right under my nose. A shadow crept in, slashed the throats of two guards, and entered the throne room. Ravella sensed the darkness and sounded the alarm. By the time we arrived, the intruder was gone. But there was a … message.”

I don’t like the foreboding in his voice. “What was it?”

Gareth grits his teeth. “Yvarra’s head.”

Thorn nods. “Left on your throne. The tree brand burned into her cheek.”

“The king beyond the mountain.” I flex my fists.

“Yvarra was last seen in Silksglade. She was investigating a family of missing lesser fae. Her last correspondence was that she had a lead on them as well as some changelings who crossed the western border only days before.”

“She was one of our best trackers.” I let my sad sigh escape. “And a true blade of winter. She will be mourned.”

“I came to give you this news. The threat is growing. I can feel it.” Thorn peers westward, though there’s nothing to see but trees. “Eyes are turned toward us, seeking hands weaving invisibly through the land.”

“We’ve gained the alliance we came for. The summer queen will work with us to discover what has become of those who are missing. That trail will lead to the king beyond the mountain. I’m certain of it.”

“And then?” Thorn rests his palm on the haft of his axe.

“And then, war.” Gareth sounds tired. He’s been a soldier for most of his life, just like me. When I became king, I’d hoped that the fighting days were over, that winter and summer could live in peace with each other as well as the other realms. But that dream is dying, and Yvarra’s end is just the beginning.

“But now there is hope.” Thorn glances at Taylor. “A royal mate.”

My chest swells with pride. “She is a gift from the Ancestors, to be sure.”

Thorn rubs his clean-shaven jaw. “Perhaps she is already with child. Can you imagine the joy in the winter realm for a new babe?” His smile is genuine, all pretense gone.

Gareth quickly claps a hand on Thorn’s shoulder and leads him away. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Gareth is a good friend, but Thorn will know soon enough that I haven’t claimed my mate. I send a request to the Ancestors for patience, then kneel as I say a prayer of peace for the soul of Yvarra.

When I get to the fire, Beth is roasting some root vegetables and Thorn is kneeling before Taylor, the Winter’s Oath on his lips.

“This isn’t necessary.” She wrings her hands.

“You could always decree his death.” Gareth shrugs. “I’d be more than happy to shut up this claptrap for eternity.”

Thorn shoots him a grim look but keeps his head down. “It is your decision, my queen.”

“He’s a bear, Taylor. Don’t you want a pet?” Beth snickers.

Gareth’s lips quirk in a subdued smile.

“Fine. I’ll say the words, but you must call me Taylor. Got it?”

Thorn nods.

“Blade thrower.” She squints. “Is that it? It goes something like that. It’s not in the fae words that I know.”

“This oath and your response are in the tongue of the ancient fae, not the same that we speak now.” I stand behind her and watch the sunlight play along her chestnut strands of hair. “Bladanon thronin.”

“Bladanon thronin,” she repeats. “That’s what I meant.”

Thorn rises and bows low again. “Thank you.”