Their parents went to their rooms after everyone had eaten. Serephone thought about sleep, and baths, and sighed. There was no way she was getting into clean sheets dirty. She opted for a quick wash, telling Amnan to stay put. She didn’t want water shenanigans, she wanted to get clean and then relax. She was still shaky, understandably, from the day’s events and needed a few minutes alone to think.

He obeyed, surprisingly, and when she was done, took his own quick bath. She was dozing on the bed, when his weight settled at her back and an arm draped over her waist.

“Go to sleep, sweet,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll keep watch.”

She woke in the middle of the night. Someone had opened a smaller window to let in an evening breeze. She walked to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, then checked her bandages to see the progress of her healing. During the final fight she hadn’t noticed the pain of the various blows to her body—or the tug of her wound reopening. She noticed the pain now. When she entered the bedroom again Amnan was at a small side table, pouring a glass of water. He approached, handing it to her.

“You didn’t drink much yesterday,” he said.

She sipped. There was a hint of citrus in the water, as if they’d soaked lemons in it. Lemons. Were there even lemon orchards left in the tattered remains of the continent? Trust the fae to have access.

“What do you think will happen today?” she asked.

He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. For once she didn’t flinch away, but relaxed against him. “I don’t trust the fae.”

Answer enough, she supposed.

“Dawnthorne will try and force you to take the oath. Animages are, historically, useful to certain machinations.”

“I’m not that strong, though.”

“We don’t really know how strong you are until you’ve been trained and tested. You’re half-fae, Sere. That is strong enough. Besides, you might not be fully adult yet. That changes things in how you would be expected to mature.”

“Etienne never said he was full-blooded fae.”

“No one ever said he wasn’t. He may have a human in his Line, enough to account for why he can pass. Or he may be using a glamour for some reason. What do we really know about him?”

Nothing. They knew nothing. But that was a problem for another time. “Anissa is fae.”

“See?”

“Do you think she’s alright?”

He nodded. “My father wouldn’t have said she would live, if he wasn’t certain. She’ll be fine.”

As they stood, the heat between them rose, a latent desire surfacing. Amnan lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. When she didn’t move away, it deepened, his tongue slipping into her mouth, hands sliding around her body to cup her buttocks. His cock hardened, hot and heavy against her stomach. And even though her body sparked, it wasn’t sex she needed right now.

Amnan pulled away, turning them both to guide them to the bed. “I want you more than I want air,” he said. “But I want you to sleep.”

She climbed into the bed, sliding under the sheets for good measure. “Are you okay with taking this thing slow?”

He settled next to her, brushing a hand over her hair. “We have all the time in the world, sweet.”

She rolled onto her side, back facing him, and stared at the wall. “I don’t think I can mate you, Amnan. You should be free. I’m not.”

“Let me worry about my freedom.”

* * *

Serephone didn’t appreciate Dawnthorne’s sense of theatrics. They met in Anissa’s room the following morning, as if he wanted to remind her of the sacrifice her sister had almost made. Their father was present, sitting in a chair in a corner as if he’d spent the night. Her sister was pale, but sitting up straight, Iona curled up at her side. Anissa glanced over as Serephone entered, Amnan and their parents at her side.

Her elder sister lifted a slim, pale arm, eyes on Maddugh. He hesitated, then approached. “How are you feeling, young lady?” he asked.

“It appears I am in your debt,” Anissa said.

“I know what it is to be owed a favor from a fae,” he said, voice dry. “I want nothing to do with it. You keep your debt. No hard feelings.”

Her arm lowered to her side and she sighed. “It’s not nearly so simple.” Glancing at Serephone, she said, “But there are many ways to repay a debt.”

“If you owe a debt to the dragon, the dragon’s daughter owes a debt to you for taking the blow meant for her.”

Dawnthorne stepped into the room, dressed in long robes, face cold. His dark hair draped artfully over one shoulder, and when he looked at Serephone, there was no warmth in his eyes.

“Didn’t you already warn Amnan about holding grudges over what occurs in the circle?” Anissa asked pointedly. Serephone blinked. She’d never heard her sister use that particular tone with Dawnthorne before. Though, if she thought about it…she had. Serephone looked between the two of them, wondering exactly how close their relationship was, and why they kept it a secret. Had they grown up together?

“You satisfied the Queen’s Eye, and my household, with your prowess yesterday,” Dawnthorne said. “They all thought me hasty to ask you for the oath without proving yourself first. It was a favor to Etienne that I did not simply kill you outright.”

Like she was a bug, and squashing her was insignificant. Dawnthorne lifted his hand, palm out, and the Line glyph shimmered into existence. “Take the oath. There is no choice.”

“There is always,” Maddugh said, “a choice. My kin, for instance, are awaiting my word to attack. If Anissa owes me a debt—you are her Lord. I will take payment from you.”

Dawnthorne’s smile was thin. “I do not fear Nahasha and her ilk.”

“No? But your Queen doesn’t want a war, and you fear her.”

Talk of fearing anyone obviously irritated Dawnthorne; it wiped the smile from his face. “The Queen would have me bind her. The law is the law.”

“I don’t give a flying pig about your laws,” Kailigh snapped. “Serephone isn’t yours.”

Dawnthorne looked at Kailigh. “There is the matter of your other daughters as well. I have not forgotten.”

“Is that a threat?”

“What will it be, Dawnthorne?” Maddugh demanded. “War, or let Serephone go?”

But even if they won the battle, Dawnthorne had already warned Serephone what would happen next. She stepped forward, and the bickering halted.

Meeting the fae Lord’s eyes, “If I swear the oath, will you forget about my sisters?”

“Serephone!” her mother exclaimed.

“If they never come here. But it is inevitable, Serephone. Blood calls. They have a few years, at most.”

“If I swear the oath, will you forget about my sisters? You, and no one under your command or employ will approach them. You will not speak of their existence to anyone, or in any way cause another person to seek them out for any reason. I’ll take your oath, and accept your training.” She paused, grim. “I’m an animage. I’m valuable.”

“I agree. Take the oath.”

“Absolutely not,” Kailigh said as Serephone walked forward. “Maddugh, you can’t agree with this. She’ll be a prisoner here!”

“She will not be a prisoner,” Dawnthorne said calmly. “But her life will change. All life changes, Lady Kailigh.”

“She has family here,” Anissa said from her bed, voice soft. “Father, sister, niece. Cousins. Is it so bad a fate?”

Serephone paused then, and turned around, looking at Amnan, who was standing silent, arms crossed. He hadn’t said anything. But then everyone else had been doing all the talking, and she’d observed weeks ago that Amnan tended to shut up if he didn’t think there was any point in speaking up.

He met her eyes and she shrugged. “Sorry. Told you we were a long shot.” She lowered her eyes, and turned away because she couldn’t let him see how much it hurt. How unexpectedly it hurt. But the first goal was always to protect her sisters.

“Did you fund the flesh trafficker?” she asked Dawnthorne. “Adjrius.”

“No,” he replied coolly. “We are looking into the matter.”

“She’s made a decision, Kai,” Maddugh was saying. “It’s not the worst decision to make. And she does need to be trained.”

Serephone took Dawnthorne’s hand. A shock reverberated up her arm, magic flowing greedily into her body like little hooks. A whispering in her mind in a language she felt she should know, that almost seemed family. It drowned out all other sound and the glyph flashed, momentarily blinding her. Words fell from her lips, a liquid chant she spoke without direct volition. And then it was over and she felt…

…for a moment she felt every living being on the estate. Dozens of minds, the pulsing of hearts. Their sharp attention on her as she joined them, and then her mind was her own again.

“You will learn over time,” her Lord said quietly, “what it means. This was not done to punish you, Serephone. We are all slaves to our laws.”

She followed his gaze and turned. Amnan was at her back, a resigned look on his face.

“I knew you were going to do something mad,” he said, then looked at Dawnthorne. “I won’t oath myself to you. But I can oath myself to her. Is that enough?”

The fae Lord nodded. “It will raise her status, for one so young in the house to have her own servant.”

Serephone knew Dawnthorne used those words just to be annoying. “Are you sure?” she asked Amnan. “You don’t have to. You don’t—”

He placed a finger over her lip. “Serephone. Give me a little credit to make the same decision, I just allowed you to make.”

She glared at him, talking around the finger. “Allowed?”

Her mother snorted.

“Let’s seal it with a kiss,” her dragon said, lowering his head to take her lips.

It was the same, and not the same. The bond was easier this time, and harder because the binding was permanent. Some instinct aided her, a knowledge born of the house oath she’d just, herself, experienced. He was in her mind, and she realized that if she thought of him, he would hear her, and come.

They would have to navigate this new thing carefully, if their relationship would survive, and grow. She didn’t want to be his master. She just wanted to be his, when she was ready.

Serephone pulled away and Amnan’s eyes glittered, dragon bright.

“Well done,” Etienne said. “She has a knack for it. Maybe she will be a Lord.”

Dawnthorne snorted.

* * *

“Are you going to mate him?” Kailigh asked quietly.

They’d retired to the dining room for brunch, and it seemed the entire household joined them. Her mother drew her aside for a few moments’ conversation while everyone was eating and talking.

Serephone hesitated. “I just want to be lovers for now.”

“He’s a good man.” Kailigh’s voice was neutral. “He’ll be a good father, I think. Your children will never go hungry. You’ll need an ally here.”

“I know, Mother.” And she knew her mother, as nonchalant as she appeared, was anxious to see all her daughters settled with strong partners. “I think it’s a little unwise to make the first man I sleep with my husband?”

Kailigh sighed. “Just don’t break his heart. Do you love him?”

She hesitated. “I think so. If I can love anyone.”

Amnan glanced over at them, quirked an eyebrow at Serephone as if he assumed he was the topic of conversation. She smiled faintly in return. He said something to Maddugh and then walked over, sliding an arm around her waist and placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Well? What now, sweet? Since you have us here in the Dome, what adventures are we going to be up to?”

“I still have a job, you know. I can keep you in style.”

He blinked, then grinned. “You made a joke. See, I’ll win her heart. If I can get the woman cracking jokes, it’s only a matter of time.”

Kailigh laughed and Serephone rolled her eyes. “Don’t take me for granted, though. Maybe I want a long courtship. Make sure you won’t go to sleep on me, if we’re mated.”

“Any man foolish enough to go to sleep on you would wake up with one ball and his hair infested with spiders.”

Exactly.

Serephone slid her arm around his waist. He was a keeper, if any man was. But there was no need to rush. They had years—decades—ahead of them.