CHAPTER FOUR

 

“AM I INTERRUPTING?” Clay asked when Fiona opened the door.

“Not at all.” She gave him an indulgent pat on the arm. “We were nearing the end of our conversation anyway, were we not?”

I nodded, I had the answers that I wanted for the moment; everything else would fall into place as it needed to. Besides, I was desperate to spend some time away from the healing quarters to be completely alone with Clay.

After we’d said a quick goodbye to Fiona, Clay led me out of her room.

“Where to?” I asked. For the first time since our last reunion, Clay and I hadn’t discussed whether or not we should consider leaving. A silent assumption had passed between us that we would stay at the court for at least a little while longer, so I knew we weren’t about to leave. Beyond that, I was clueless.

“I know you’ve lived at the court before,” he said. “But I think you’ll understand why I wouldn’t feel entirely comfortable being in that room, given what happened there.”

“Neither would I,” I said without any lie. My previous stay at the court had been healing in some ways, but it wasn’t something I wanted to relive in a hurry. Besides, I would rather not start the rest of my life with Clay tainted by memories of my time with Aiden.

“And I don’t know what our long-term plans are, but Mom insisted that I was to pick a room that would be suitable for us for however long we wanted to stay.”

“Fair enough,” I said. If he wanted to stay at the court, I would. The reasons I’d left the court last time had nothing to do with the fae and everything to do with missing him. If he wanted to move to Abu Dhabi, I would. Hell, if he wanted to live on the moon, I’d probably try to construct a spaceship to get us there. I knew he felt the same.

“I guess I’m just saying that despite what it looks like, this doesn’t have to be a permanent thing if we don’t want it to be. If you don’t want it to be. What I mean is that I’m happy to do whatever you want.”

“You know you’re babbling right?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes but scrubbed the back of his neck nervously. It was clear he was hiding something. He led me down the corridor that lead from Fiona’s quarters and into the main living area. Just a short walk from his mother’s quarters, he stopped in front of one of the doors and wrung his hands together.

I raised my eyebrow at him in question.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

It was just like our first real date all over again. The memory made me smile as I did what he asked, waiting patiently with my eyes closed in anticipation. A moment after I heard the door swing open, his hands came to rest across my eyes. He guided me forward step-by-step until we’d traveled what must have been a decent distance past the doorway.

“Surprise,” he said as he lifted his hands away.

What I saw astounded me. Instead of the sparsely decorated quarters I’d lived in previously, it was a real bedroom. On one wall, a massive picture of Clay and me staring into one another’s eyes took up most of the available space. I recognized the location of the photo as the double deluxe suite at the Gansevoort Hotel. Ethan must have snapped the picture when we weren’t looking. From the photo, I understood exactly what he meant when he’d said Clay and I were making goo-goo eyes at each other before the attack on the Bayview Hotel. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as I stared at the captured moment.

On another wall was a collage made out of the information Clay had gathered about the sunbird. Multiple photocopies of his original writing overlaid one another to make something that could easily pass for a work of art.

“They’ve added the information to the fae libraries,” he murmured as I moved to the collage and traced some of the lines that jumped out at me. The phrases “True Love” and “Agape” were written in Clay’s handwriting on a number of pages and it brought our reunion back to the forefront of my mind. It was hard to believe that it was less than a year ago.

My life was so different now.

“Except this one,” he added, touching a part that appeared to be a poem. “They already had their own copy of this one.”

I read over the verses and recognized some of the words that Clay had recited before proposing. “You told me about this, didn’t you? You said it was . . .” I trailed off, trying to jog my memory. Things from that first day were a little fuzzy.

“It’s a poem by Shakespeare. A prophecy laid out by Tatiana, the queen of the fairies.”

“From A Mid—”

He cut me off with a laugh. “The one and the same.”

“She was real?”

“So were many of the people he wrote about.”

“But he actually met her?”

“Apparently.”

I nodded, trying to absorb that information.

In another corner of the mural, Clay had added some new information. The phrase “entwined auras” was scribbled with more notes beneath it.

“Have you been doing some research?” I asked.

He just grinned in response.

I continued to make my way around the expansive space and noticed the small personal touches Clay had set up everywhere. It brought tears of joy to my eyes because I’d never had a room so infused with personality and life before. It made me realize that what I shared with Clay didn’t have to be short-term and dangerous. It didn’t have to be a constant struggle. We could have a life together. At least, we could in a place like this.

On one of the bedside tables, a photo frame that had room for three photos side-by-side rested next to an ornate lamp. I clasped my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob as I absorbed the two pictures already contained within. One was a photo of Mom and Dad from their university days; not the same one I used to have when it was just Dad and me, but something very similar.

Another was a photo of Dad with me as a little girl, from the time in our lives before we’d been constantly on the run—before the Rain had launched their first attack on an innocent child. The smile on Dad’s face as he watched over my shoulder at whatever I was doing was so bright that it was almost impossible to reconcile it with the hardened man who’d been there for me until the end of his life.

“How did you get these?” I asked Clay through a tear-strained voice.

“Eth found them.”

“How?” I could barely form the words around the lump in my throat and the pressure building in my chest.

Clay just shrugged. “He’s good at what he does.”

A sob wracked my chest, and Clay wrapped his arms wrap securely around me.

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d like—”

Unable to find the words to express how much I liked it, in spite of how it might have appeared with the tears rushing from me, I pressed my mouth firmly against his to cut him off. His fingers trailed into my hair, and he tilted my head back to allow us both to feel more. My breathing was ragged and needful as we began shedding our clothes to christen our new room. I planned on getting some good use out of the bed . . . and maybe the small, two-seater sofa in the corner.

“So, you do like it?” he asked as his lips swept across my throat.

I nodded. “I . . . I love. How did you get it done so fast?”

He cupped my chin. “It’s amazing how fast you can move when you’ve got the wings of love to support you.”

A peal of laughter left me. “At least embracing your true nature hasn’t removed your ability to be cheesy.”

He chuckled before kissing my lips. “It’s true though. Anything I asked for, even in passing, was in the room within hours. The thing that took the longest was the photos. It’s the court. All the fae here, they love you and they want to do anything they can to make you happy.”

I shook my head. “You give me too much credit. They love you. You’re the Queen’s son, after all.” I laughed again as a thought struck me. “Does that make you my prince charming?”

“Now who’s being cheesy,” he teased.

I raised a brow. “How about it, Prince Charming, are you going to sweep me off my feet?”

His hands slipped down over my waist and around my legs so he could lift me against him. “Always.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed my mouth against his and our tongues met in languid strokes. It was moments like this, moments when we were together, that I truly appreciated how much we’d been through to find each other.

At the thought, apprehension gripped me. The last time we were together, the day before we attacked Bayview, the sunbird was still awake. She burned through my veins and heated my body. How many times had Clay told me he’d craved that heat when we were apart?

Would he miss it now?

Would I be enough for him when all I was, was me?

While my mind worked overtime, Clay carried me to the bed. When his legs hit the mattress, he lowered me down carefully.

“I can’t tell you what it means to be here with you, Evie,” he said as he followed me down. “What it means to have you safe. Healthy.”

His hands moved down my body, tracing paths that set fires within my skin—but none that burned as hot as I used to.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you,” he whispered against my neck.

My frown deepened as my doubt grew stronger still. It became a barrier between us. I pulled away from him, unable to find the mood when my mind was working overtime.

“What is it, Evie?” he asked, cupping my cheek and guiding my gaze back to his.

“What if . . .” I didn’t know how to find the words to explain the thoughts running through my mind, but I owed it to him to try. “What if it’s not the same anymore?”

He froze. “What do you mean if it’s not the same?”

“You always . . . well, you speak about how you craved my heat. How no one else could ever compare because you couldn’t find that warmth from anyone else. And now . . . well, now I’m just normal again. I don’t run hot.”

A chuckle of disbelief left him. Then another, until he saw I was being serious. “Evie, it’s not your actual temperature, but the warmth in here,” he pressed his palm over my heart, “that draws me to you. I want you, as much as ever.”

A reluctant smile lifted one corner of my mouth. “Are you sure?”

He shifted his body over mine, pressing his front against me as he claimed my lips. “What do you think?” he asked as he pushed his hips forward. “Does it feel like I’m sure?”

I moaned as the evidence of his surety brushed against my body.

“Any more doubts about how desperately I’d like to make love to my fiancée?”

Shaking my head, I smiled. “That sounds so much better than girlfriend,” I said, referring to his use of the latter word while we were still in Sweden.

“You know what would sound even better?” he asked.

“What?”

“My wife.” He whispered the words seconds before claiming my mouth, possibly to cut off any objection I might have. There were no objections on my lips though. I wanted all he had to give.

He trailed his kisses around my body, peeling off the final barriers between us and exploring with his fingers and mouth as he went.

When I was writhing beneath him, and desperate to connect with him, he lined himself up.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, before kissing the spot just above my healing injury as he thrust into me.

“Don’t stop,” I instructed as he moved inside of me. “Don’t ever stop.”

My concerns that I wouldn’t be enough without my former heat, and that we wouldn’t be the same anymore, was completely unfounded. The sunbird might have left, but everything that was “Clay and Evie” remained. It didn’t take long until my body sang for him as he played the notes only he knew how to control.

Once I’d found my release, he pushed harder and faster. His chocolate gaze fixed on mine as his mouth mashed together when he came hard, spilling into me. As his muscles relaxed and his body sagged over me, he claimed my mouth again.

“See,” he said when his breath returned to him. “Nothing’s changed. And it never will. I love you, Evie. Don’t you ever forget that.”