Chapter Eleven

 

Where was the fucking mating fever when he needed it? It had been riding him hard, and then he’d had a handle on it the minute he’d felt his brother feed and share Bronwyn’s orgasm. Now it had deserted him and he was left with plain desire and overwhelming insecurity.

Lach stared down at Bronwyn. She looked soft and so damn sweet in Shim’s arms. There were two perfect, delicate holes on her neck. They had already closed, but the temptation was right there to lean down and sink his fangs in, too. First blood.

He was made of the monstrous things of the planes. Unseelie sidhe. Vampire. Goblin. Sometimes he feared the scars on his face had finally unmasked him for what he was, as though his ruined face was an outward expression of his inward soul.

King of the Dead. What right did he have to take a creature who was so stunningly, gloriously alive?

Her eyes fluttered open and a smile crossed her lips. “It’s not so bad now.”

Shim kissed her. “I’m taking some of the pain, love. We’re bonded. Not fully. That can come when you’re not under the influence of herbs and potions, but we do have a bond. There’s a piece of me inside you. Haven’t you always been able to feel it?”

Shim belonged. Shim had been the one to save her. Shim had sent out a piece of his soul across the planes and placed it deep inside Bronwyn, giving her life where it had been taken.

All Lach had managed to do was save his brother from a fire that wouldn’t have hurt him. All Lach had done was ruin his face and sit idly by his brother’s bedside, hoping he would awaken once more.

“There were years when I couldn’t feel you. I hated those years.” Her hand drifted up. It didn’t matter that Shim was taking some of her pain. Bronwyn was still under the influence of that potion. Her legs moved restlessly. She sank her hands in Shim’s hair, pulling him down for a long kiss. “I was alone without my Dark Ones. Don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” Shim replied. “We’ll take you back to our home.”

“The Dark Palace.” Her feet tickled at his knees. He couldn’t help it. He had to touch her. Her ankles were delicate, seemingly incongruous against his big, rough hands. “Will you carry me away to your bedroom? The one with the huge, soft bed?”

They had started taking her there in their shared dreams the year before, gently herding her toward what they wanted. If they couldn’t have her in real life, they’d decided, they would take her in their dreams.

But now she would come with them. They would have her in their wing of the Dark Palace. She would be their princess. She would live with them and know that no one respected a word they said because their father thought them fragile.

“He won’t think you’re fragile when he hears how you raised an army of dead and took out the entire village guard, brother.” Shim laughed as he kissed the top of her head. Shim seemed as drugged as Bron now, his hands stroking as though they couldn’t stop moving over her skin.

Lach was not immune to whatever Bron and Shim were sending out. His cock was still throbbing. If only his brain could shut down. And it wouldn’t happen as long as his brother kept eavesdropping. “Get out of my head.”

Bron laughed a little. “You’re both in my head. Be nicer to one another.”

Lach’s hands moved up her legs to her knees. He couldn’t help himself. Her skin called to him. He knew he should stop. He wouldn’t be good for her. She was a beauty, meant for the finer, sweeter things in life. She was small and delicate. How would she survive in his world thick with ogres and goblins and trolls, all who would test her mettle before accepting her as a royal? Sweet little Bronwyn shouldn’t have to deal with a beast like himself.

He wanted to dominate her. He wanted to be rough and fuck her until she screamed out his name and begged his mercy because she couldn’t handle one more bit of pleasure. He wanted to place a collar around her throat as vampires so often did with their consorts—a symbol that she belonged to him. How could he tell her of his dark needs? The need to shove his cock in her pussy, up her ass, in her mouth. Anywhere it would fit. He wanted to fill her every hole.

“See those are much more helpful thoughts, brother.” Shim’s eyes were shuttered, his fingers on her breasts. “Let go of all that angst and revel in our bonding time. We won’t get much of it until we take our princess home.”

“Stay out of my damn head, Shim. You’re trying to influence me.”

“No.” His brother shook his head. “She’s influencing both of us. She’s so damn strong. I don’t think she even knows how strong she is.”

Bronwyn smiled, pride in her voice. “I’m very strong. I can plow a whole field in a day.”

Both he and his brother shuddered. The thought of their mate in the fields was horrifying when she should have had an easeful life.

Lach found himself between her legs. Close. So close. His cock nudged her. This should be the extent of her duties, taking care of her mates’ cocks.

“You will never have to do that again,” he promised.

Her eyes found his. “But I’m good at it.”

He rubbed his cock all along her labia, stopping just short of penetration. He was trying to be patient. Trying to prove he wasn’t an animal. Perhaps she’d been too far gone to see his killing spree, to witness his dark power. “You’re good at this. Good at making us want you.”

She laughed a little. “All men want a woman. Even I know that, Lach.”

“I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Her smile turned slightly sad and she cupped his face in her hands. “Of course you have. And I only wanted you. What does it say that I only ever wanted a dream?”

“I’m not a dream, a chumann.” He was more of a nightmare, but it no longer mattered. She was too close, and he had to have her. He would protect her. He would be a barrier against the harshness of his world, but he would have her. She’d been promised to him. If he was half a man, he would walk away, but he would take her as his comfort for all he’d sacrificed.

He’d do everything he could to make up for the fact that she’d married a monster. He would be her monster.

“You’re my dream.” She turned to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. It was a submissive gesture of pure acceptance. Her legs were open, spread wide to accept him. Her eyes were focused on his. Every reason to wait faded away.

He could feel her heat. His cock was surrounded by it. Her pussy was slick with the juice of her orgasms. Cream coated him as he thrust against her labia.

“Bron, are you sure?” He didn’t know why he was asking or what he would do if she said no. But he had to ask. He loved her so much. His whole life had been about wanting her, loving her. He had to know he was welcome.

“Lachlan, please. I’ve waited so long. Too long. Let me have this before the after.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he understood the word please. He could never deny her. He let the fever have its way. The need to mate was a rolling churn in his gut.

Lach laid his body on hers, holding not an ounce of his weight off. He sank into her. Chest to chest. Belly rubbing belly. Legs tangling. He touched his nose to hers—a sweet little turn of his face. He nuzzled her, savoring the sensation. Thirty long years without her. Thirty long years trapped in his body without her to share himself with. This was what he’d longed for. To be here, coupled to his soul’s mate, the woman who bridged the halves of himself.

His mind sought hers. It was there, the connection between them that existed because of the day she’d died. He grasped it. It wasn’t the full bond, but he could strengthen it. He let his desire flow. He let her know what he wanted.

Her tied up. Her at his mercy. Her round ass pink from his discipline. Her pussy weeping for his cock.

“Yes. Yes.” Her lips hovered under his.

He kissed her, surging into her mouth. Her tongue curled around his. She softened under him, her legs cradling his hips.

One little thrust and he would be inside her. He would be where he’d wanted to be for thirty years.

He kissed her one last time and then pulled himself up, shifting his hips and poising his cock at her entrance. His eyes came up. Shim was behind Bron, his body cradling hers. Their eyes met, a long look between them. Shim was here with him. The two halves of his whole complete through this woman.

He thrust up gently.

Tight. She was so tight. Her pussy was wet, but it seemed so small.

“Don’t stop.” Bron was biting her lip. “I want this. Don’t let me go without knowing this.”

She wasn’t going anywhere without him. He shifted his hips, his dick a huge presence in her virgin pussy. She gasped and strained, trying to accept him. The little sounds she made went straight to his cock, swelling him further.

He pressed in, needing to get deep.

“Softly.” His other half was right there. Shim had always been there, but now he felt closer than ever, able to access the other side of his soul.

Lach leaned back over, kissing her lips. “Let me in, a chumann.”

My darling. My sweetheart.

Her arms drifted around his neck, her ankles locking around his waist. She relaxed. “You’re already inside me, Lachlan.”

He was. One firm push and he drove deep. Shim grimaced and then Lach felt it. Shim had taken her pain and shared it with Lach. The bastard. Flesh tore and swelled and stretched to accommodate his too-big cock, but Bron had felt only pleasure, the pure joy of his cock sliding home.

She shook slightly, her eyes drifting closed.

“Don’t. Look at me. Be with me.” He couldn’t stand the thought that she would think of anyone else.

Stark brown eyes held him. “I’m always with you.”

Always.

“Don’t stop. Please, Lachlan.”

He pulled out, every inch a deep drag on his cock. So good. She felt so good. Perfect. This was sex. This was making love. This was only possible with Bronwyn. He’d waited and his joy was boundless. The waiting had been worth it because this was everything he’d hoped for.

Every muscle in his body felt alive. He foraged back in, gaining ground. Pull out. Push in. An inch here. An inch there. Almost and then he sighed and finally sank in to his balls.

Heat surrounded him.

Bronwyn groaned. “Yes. It feels so good.”

She was feeling his pleasure. He pushed it outward, instinct guiding him. “You feel so good. This is how I feel, love. This is what you make me feel.”

And he felt everything. Shim had relented a bit, allowing her feelings to flow through the room. She was stretched, the feeling not quite comfortable, but she loved it. She was full where before she’d been so empty. She loved being surrounded by them, loved the fact that there was no part of her they weren’t touching. She’d been so alone. He’d had Shim, but she’d been alone and she’d needed them. Those long years when they hadn’t been able to feel each other had stretched out, a desert plain she’d been forced to cross.

Her hips moved up, trying to keep him inside.

He thrust faster, losing himself in the rhythm. So new. Every feeling was new and fresh and better because it was shared. He loved the way she was open, sharing her senses, her feelings. Her nipples throbbed against his chest. Her heart pounded in time to his own.

He felt it, the connection, deep and pure. She flowed into him and he into her, mingling down to their souls. Never before had he felt so connected, not even to his brother who held half his soul.

His spine shivered, Bron gasping as she felt it, too, and then he dropped over the edge. He didn’t think about anything but the pleasure that bubbled up and overflowed. He came, thrusting deep and holding himself hard against her. His cum shot from his body, jetting into hers. Bron was with him the whole way, her body convulsing under his, bucking up to take more and more of him.

He thrust until he had nothing left and then collapsed on top of his bondmate, his bride, his love.

She was finally theirs.

And she was asleep.

Shim stared down at her, his hand tenderly stroking back her hair. “That did it. She can rest now. The potion burned itself out. She’s going to be all right. We can perform the full bond when we get back to Aoibhneas.”

Lach rolled off her, but had no intention of getting up from the bed. He might never leave it again. He cuddled her close, reveling in the heat and scent of their intimacy. His cock was already hard again, but Bron sighed and settled her head on his chest. Sleep. His bride needed sleep. They wouldn’t set foot out of this room until Bronwyn was well and ready to travel.

Roan would just have to see things his way. He wouldn’t be far behind, but Lachlan was done listening to him. The Warrior King was ready to take his rightful place, and his first duty was to protect and care for his bondmate. “Let’s rest for a bit and then I’ll go speak to our sister. Roan should be here by then. We can make arrangements to safely take her back to our plane.”

“She’ll be happy to see her brothers.” Shim sighed, his hand going around her waist. “She will not be happy that they’re going into war.”

Lach shrugged. It didn’t matter. He had his Bron. A guilty feeling settled into Lachlan’s gut. This plane was Bronwyn’s home. She might not want to leave it so easily.

And this plane had nearly burned her to death. It didn’t matter. She’d promised to obey him, to submit to him, and he wanted her safe.

Shim settled in on the other side of Bronwyn, nuzzling her neck. “We don’t have to worry about it now. I just want to hold her.”

Lach let his eyes drift closed. He didn’t need to dream this day. He had her in his arms.

 

* * * *

 

Bron came awake slowly, in small snatches of reality laced with the sweetness of the dreams she’d had.

She kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to leave this place where she’d grabbed her Dark Ones and held on for dear life. When she opened her eyes, they would be gone again and she would either be in the after or still in her dank cell awaiting that time when the executioner would call her name.

A shaft of sunlight was warm on her face and she tried to turn. She tried but she was caught. Her eyes flew open, and she looked into seriously blue eyes.

“Hello, sunshine.”

Bron sat up in bed and screamed.

There was movement behind her as something large banged to the floor. A man. Another man. She was in bed with two men.

“Bronwyn? Bronwyn, love, you need to stop. Someone will think we’re killing you, and that really isn’t going to be good for anyone.” The dark-haired man cajoled her as though it was perfectly normal for her to be lying in bed stark naked with two men.

“We’re not killing her, but damn me I think I might have broken my tailbone falling out of bed. Who thought this place would be big enough?” The second man brushed a hand through his hair and then stood, his enormous male organ bouncing and pointing straight at her. He frowned down and made no move to cover himself. “What’s wrong, a chumann?”

What was wrong? What was wrong? She’d gone utterly mad. That was what was wrong. All of her life she’d been told she was insane, and now she knew it to be true. She’d lost her mind and now she was pulling her dream men straight out of her head.

“Where am I?” She clutched the sheet to her chest.

The man who had fallen to the floor stared at her, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. He was his brother’s twin, but three long scars marred his face. Why did she remember touching those scars, kissing them and feeling this man melt underneath her tenderness. He didn’t look like a man who needed tenderness now. “You’re with your mates. Is there a reason you’re hiding those breasts? They belong to me, and I want to see them.”

And her dream men were suddenly unreasonable pricks, so all she could think was that she had a deeply masochistic inner soul. “I was in my cell at the jail.”

“Yes,” the other one said, his hand on her shoulder. She pulled away. He sighed and continued his explanation. “You were in your cell, but they gave you a potion and took you to the square.”

Vague, nightmarish images floated back to her brain. She’d been dragged and drugged and bound. She had an image of someone calling her “princess,” but then he’d fled and left her to the wolves. Micha had been there, snarling at her, forcing poison into her veins. And then the flames had come. She’d cried out for someone to save her, and that must have been when her mind had broken. Bron took a long breath. What had really happened? Had she gotten away or was this what happened to the dead? Were her ashes already floating in the wind?

“She doesn’t believe we’re real.”

“How can she not believe we’re real? We’ve been in her dreams since she was a child.”

The unscarred one shrugged. Shim. She’d named him Shim. “I don’t know. Only Gillian believed us. Perhaps she had no one to believe her, no one to help figure out what was happening.”

Bron drew her knees to her chest. “Gillian’s here?”

“She’s downstairs,” the one she’d named Lach replied.

There was something about Gillian she needed to remember, but she couldn’t quite catch it, and she kept getting distracted by man parts. They were everywhere, and neither man seemed willing to do a thing about it. “Shouldn’t you cover those things up?”

Those things had given her such pleasure, sinking deep inside her. It was all a dream, of course. Except she was really sore. Really sore. Her body had a pleasant ache.

Shim smiled and gave her a little wink she found all too sexy. “I don’t want to cover it up. I’d really rather use it on you, love.”

Something heated up inside. Mingled in with the nightmare images were other softer, sweeter memories. Lach working over her, sharing his pleasure with her. Shim kissing her neck, lavishing affection before he sank his fangs deep.

Fuck it all, he’d bitten her. She shot off the bed practically jumping toward the mirror. She stared at herself. There it was. Her neck was smooth and unblemished with the exception of two perfectly delicate holes. She’d been fed upon, and if she remembered correctly, she’d liked it.

What in all the damn planes was happening to her?

“You’re vampires.” It was the only explanation. They were royal vampires. There was only one problem with the scenario. She turned to them, still trying to pull the sheet around her. “Why did you bite me? I’m not a consort.”

“Like hell you’re not. You’re a consort. You’re our consort.” Lach threw his brother a furious stare. “How can she not know this? Are you trying to tell me that we’ve been pining for her, looking for her for damn near thirteen years, and she thought we were some masturbatory dream?”

Shim seemed the more reasonable of the two. “You know how hard it was to talk in those dreams. I would go in thinking I would explain everything to her and it would all drift away and we would simply be there.” He turned to Bron. She was pretty sure now the enormous, bobbing cock that jutted from his center was simply in its natural form since it never wavered. How did he walk around like that? “Your parents never told you that you could bond? Your vampire cousins would have been able to see your glow.”

Her father had never mentioned it, but she did remember Dante teasing her about glowing. She hadn’t understood. She’d been kept so ignorant. “My parents didn’t tell me, but then they didn’t tell me much. They probably believed me to be far too young.”

Lach frowned. “You weren’t too young to know the truth. Didn’t you understand that Gillian came to your plane with the express purpose of securing your engagement to us?”

Gillian. Gillian, her mentor. Her savior. What had Gillian said as the fires had died down? As Shim had carried her?

When the time is right and we unite the tribes, you will be the true Kings of the Fae. I honor you, brothers, and the woman who brings the Unseelie into true power.

It was like a punch to the gut.

Impregnate her if you can.

Gillian, the woman who had rescued her, had given her over to two men she didn’t know. She’d offered Bronwyn’s body and womb and, more importantly, her royal blood. Gillian had come to the palace that day so long ago to secure Bronwyn’s hand for her brothers. Her brothers—the Unseelie princes.

She had to hand it to Gillian. She was tenacious. She’d guarded Bron’s innocence. Bron had believed she guarded her from rape because Gillian had loved her, but now she knew it was because she’d been protecting her brothers’ property.

“I’m not a virgin anymore.” She’d hated the state, wanted to rid herself of it night after night in her dreams. She’d wanted her Dark Ones. They’d been her safe place, her haven.

Reality was brutal, and they had always been a lie.

Lach walked up to her. “No, you’re not. And neither am I.”

She snorted. They were gorgeous. They were princes of a plane known for its hedonism. Her own brothers had worked their way through every pretty sidhe female in their village by the time they were sixteen and likely half the Vampire plane. “Yes, well, I’m sure you lost that a long time before.”

He caught her shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes. “No. I waited. No sex. No blood. Just years of longing and waiting and hoping to find you. I don’t know what you believe, but you better believe this, you were my first woman. You will be my last woman. There is no one in all the planes for me except you, Bronwyn McIver.”

In his mind, they were already married. McIver. The name of the Unseelie royal family. She closed her eyes. Could it be true? She’d never thought she could bond, never been tested. She reached out with her mind and sure enough, there it was, the bond between them. Had it always been there and she’d been too stupid to realize it?

“I am still a virgin since you passed out after Lach fucked you. Could we perhaps do something about that? It’s a terrible state and this thing won’t go down and gods, your breasts are so lovely, Bron.” Shim smiled, his eyes fixed on her chest.

Damn it. She’d lost hold of her sheet.

Before she could bend over to grab it, Lach had it in his hands. He tossed it away.

“You don’t need that around us, wife. I don’t want a damn thing between us. Shim, we should stop trying to talk to her. It’s obvious she isn’t listening.” He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her to his body. “This is what we need.”

His mouth came down on hers. She would have fought if he’d slammed against her, but the damn man was just smart enough to be tender. His lips barely brushed hers. When he spoke, she felt the words like a whisper on her skin. “I love you, Bronwyn. I’ve loved you all my life. Please don’t fight us now that we’re finally here. Haven’t we lost enough time?”

His need hummed through her brain, and she softened against him. His lips played on hers. He wasn’t aggressive though she felt that in him. He was sweet and tender, and she was falling for all of it.

“Crap and fuck me mother, you really do have a girl in here!”

Bron jumped back and screamed, a little strangled sound. There was a gnome climbing through the window, his small leg hoisted over the sill.

Shim groaned and fell back on the bed. “You have the worst timing, Duffy.”

The gnome named Duffy grinned, lechery in his eyes. “I think I got real good timing, me brother. Perfect timing actually. Hello there, darling, did me brothers bother to mention me? Probably not since they ran away with no thought to me.”

The gnome frowned and then sort of lost his balance and almost fell back out the window. Lach caught him with one hand and dragged him back in, setting him on the floor. He tossed Bronwyn the sheet. “I did think of you, Duff. We both thought about how much you snore as we stepped over you on our way out.”

“It was just a little nap,” Duffy protested. “And Roan is going to kick your ass when he finds out you’re holed up with some village cutie when you’re supposed to be looking for this princess woman. Not that you aren’t a fine specimen of womanhood, lovely lady. I’m actually a little surprised. I thought you two were all about the waiting.” The gnome winked. “I’m their brother. Don’t let the size of the man fool you. I’m actually quite creative. And these two are all spoken for. I’m totally available.”

Shim and Lach stared down at the gnome.

“Fuck me, she’s Bronwyn Finn, ain’t she?” The gnome got to one knee. “Your Highness. I am so sorry I just had that fantasy about sticking me face in between your bosoms. I did not realize they were royal bosoms since they seemed so very, very nice and not at all high and mighty. Not that they aren’t mighty…”

Duffy’s words were cut off by a light slap to his head by Lachlan. “Shut up about my wife’s bosoms, Duff. She’s going to be your queen. Show her due respect.”

Duffy huffed a little, his small face beaming with innocence. “I totally respect her bosoms, Lach.”

Shim sighed and moved to pull on a pair of pants. “There’s nothing for it, Lachlan. If Duffy’s here, then Roan will charge in soon. Let’s allow our Bron to get dressed and perhaps we can talk over a nice meal. Are you hungry, love?”

She wasn’t, but she would do just about anything to get a moment to herself. They were overwhelming her. The events of the day had wreaked havoc on everything she knew. She needed a moment to process her own thoughts. She needed to take stock. And she really wanted the comfort of clothes. Sympathy. She could play on their sympathy. “Please, Shim. They did not feed their prisoners well in the jail.”

Sure enough both of the men paled and scrambled to get into their pants.

“I’ll bring something up to you. You just rest. We’ll have to move by nightfall.” Lach tugged his shirt over his head. She couldn’t miss the blood stains.

“Move? Where?”

“To Aoibhneas.” Shim shoved his feet into boots and then handed her some clothes. They had carefully folded her dress. “There’s a gap in the planes. We can get back home. We can make sure you’re safe.”

She opened her mouth, but Lach was in front of her, staring down, his dark eyes full of will and command.

“No arguments. You will go home.” He softened slightly. “Let’s discuss it when you’ve had something to eat. Sweet Bronwyn, please don’t look at me that way.” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes sliding away from hers. “Does my face frighten you?”

He was worried about a few scars? The scars on his face didn’t bother her at all, though she wondered how he’d gotten them. They looked a little like burns as though sparks of fire had driven across his face. But they were small things compared to how perfectly lovely the rest of him was. “Your face doesn’t scare me, but everything else about this does. I don’t know what to think. And I’m not leaving my home plane. If you know who I am, then you have to know I cannot leave here. My people have need of me.”

And she’d ignored that need for far too long. She’d just now decided to stand up and become the princess she should be. If her brothers couldn’t reclaim their throne, then she would do it for them.

“Yes, your people have need of you.” Shim ran a hand down her arm. “They need to meet their future queen.”

There would be no talking to them. They obviously had their minds made up, and she wasn’t sure they would tell her the truth even if she tried. Gillian’s words were odd to her, but it seemed to Bronwyn that her mentor had political ambitions. She’d said something about uniting the Fae under Lachlan and Shim. Their marriage to the last Seelie princess would go a long way in securing those rights. She wasn’t even sure Beck and Cian were alive, but she had to protect their throne just in case.

Lach’s face was long, his disappointment obvious. “Come, Shim, I will deal with Roan. You can secure food fit for our princess. And Bronwyn, we will work this out. You no longer have to worry. Your men will take care of you always.”

“You did a wonderful job, love.” Shim kissed her hair. “You stayed alive.”

He winked and followed his brother out the door.

“Duffy!” Lach shouted.

Duffy jumped to his feet. “Kind of hoped they would forget about me. Don’t you worry none, princess. I’ll be standing guard. I won’t let no one else ogle the royal bosoms.”

The door closed. She was alone. She could breathe.

What had happened? Could she even believe her eyes?

“Hello, Your Highness.”

She started. “I really wish Fae would stop climbing in through my window.”

The small creature with the huge bushy black tail seemed to laugh. He had enormous eyes and what looked to be sharp teeth. His clawed feet clung to the windowsill. “You will have to excuse me, Your Highness. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about…and to beg a moment of your time on behalf of my family.”

“I don’t know what I could do for your family.” She was almost certain the creature was a phooka, though she’d never seen one up close. A phooka could be a dangerous thing, but sometimes they bonded to other beings and became deeply loyal. A bonded phooka would burn down the plane for its “family.”

The phooka’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You could do a hell of a lot more than you’re doing now, Your Highness. Has cowardice been good to you?”

The words hurt because she saw some truth to them. “Please go away.”

The laugh that huffed from the phooka’s mouth couldn’t be termed humorous. “No. Not until you learn a thing or two. Tell me something, Your Highness. What gives you any right to wear a crown? Is there anything about you that is meaningful besides the fact that whatever brat you spill from your thighs will have royal blood?”

The creature was pulling at her every nerve. “I have done nothing to deserve your scorn.”

“Oh, yes, you have done nothing and doing nothing absolutely deserves my scorn. You ran when the palace fell. I can forgive you that. You were a child. But a woman stands before me now. A woman who has done nothing while her people are slaughtered, while innocent bondmates have been taken to Torin’s hags and tortured and turned into weapons to be used against our once allies. You are a woman who has done nothing while her kin have suffered, fought, and died rallying behind her family name. Did you know your cousin Keir died?”

Her sweet cos, Keir, had only been a few years older than she was, but she knew the story. After Torin had killed her father, Keir had raised an army.

And his army had been slaughtered, Keir along with them.

“Other revolts have been started all under the Finn banner. But Bronwyn Finn hid and plowed her fields and kept her head down. You still have a head. Many of the brave ones don’t.”

“What is your point? If it’s to make me feel bad, then you win.”

“My point is that it is past time for you to be a woman. My family has a daughter named Paige. She’s already made a heart bond with a young man named Charles. Charles was taken and sent to the palace because he could bond. Paige has been placated by the fact that the boy’s fathers are promising to free him. If they cannot, then I fear Paige will try herself because my young Paige is more woman than you can ever be. And she will die and that will break my master’s heart forever. I fight for the ones I love, Bronwyn Finn. It is too bad you cannot say the same.”

“You will call me Your Highness and you will keep a civil tongue in your head around me. Is that understood?” If she was going to do this, she would do it right. No one of sane mind would follow a mild-mannered peasant princess, but she remembered her father’s arrogance well.

Her father. He’d become a sluagh and left instructions for her. Sir Giles. Niall wanted her to go to Sir Giles. She sought her memory. Sir Giles was a landholder not too far away.

Who should she trust?

“Now that sounds more like a royal who might be worth something.” The phooka’s mouth curved up in an approximation of a smile. “You know if you stay here, your husbands will cart you back to the Unseelie plane and you’ll spend the rest of your life spitting out their heirs. I’ve spent some time with them. I’ve got no doubt they want you, but they will keep you in the palace, away from anything to tax your lovely brain. You’ll be their sweet wife, coddled and loved and marginalized. Is that what you want? Or do you want more?”

Perhaps once she could have been satisfied with being a wife and a mother as her own had been, but she’d been changed. Pain, loss, and work had transformed her.

She didn’t want to sit on the sidelines as her mother had done. If she wore a crown, it would be because she’d earned it. She’d already given her blood. It was time to give more.

Shim and Lach. They had been in her dreams for so long, but she had to deal with reality. Reality was the Seelie plane and Torin.

“Help me escape.”

The phooka practically purred. “It will be my greatest pleasure, Your Highness. I am your servant.”

“Turn around. I need to get dressed.”

The phooka turned. With shaking hands, she dressed. When she was ready, she looked at the bed where she’d lost her innocence. Given it. No matter what potion she’d been under, she’d wanted them. She’d loved them.

The phooka guided her out the window, and Bron wondered if she would ever see them again.