CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Holding Taylor today becomes another form of torture. Every fiber of my being longs to clutch her to me, to feel that she's mine, even as my heart hurts to know she doesn't wish to be married to me.

The rational part of me says it's the shock of the marriage itself instead of a rejection of me. Rovann and Dravarr both said their brides hadn't understood right away that humans do things differently.

But in my heart, I know that's a lie. It's me. I'm not enough.

I'm never enough. Not for my father. Not to be warlord of my clan.

Why should I have expected any different?

Still, I bless the ongoing rivalry between the cat sith and unicorn. As they goad each other to greater speed, Taylor's pressed back into me, giving me the excuse to hold her close.

I take it, greedy man that I am. I pull her tight, my hand gripping my moon bound as if I'll never let go. Goddess knows I never want to.

My bride relaxes against me, her body molding to mine until I can almost convince myself she wants me, too.

We dip and sway as Storm gallops through the forest, cutting through thickets of pine, his hoof beats softened by the heavy blanket of needles. Mist appears ahead, darting through a patch of ferns, shaking the fronds and making the curled fiddleheads dance.

Taylor lets out a soft laugh, and the sound of her easy joy pierces my heart. I want to be a cause of joy for her—I want her to be happy to be bound to me.

Determination fills me. It's more important than ever that I complete my quest, prove to her and everyone that I'm a man worth admiring.

A man worthy of a moon bound bride.

We eat a prolonged lunch in the saddle, the monotony of hardtack supplemented by handfuls of berries plucked fresh from bush and vine, sweet fat blueberries, tart red currants, and crunchy dark-purple blackberries as long as Taylor's thumbs.

When we reach the muddy bank of a wide river, the feline fae takes one look at it and sniffs. "I don't do water." She disappears from view, leaving one last flash of a toothy grin that hangs in the air for a few seconds.

"Mist?" Taylor reaches out as if trying to snatch the cat sith from the now empty air.

"She will meet us on the other side," I say.

Storm grumbles, "Wish I could as well."

"You don't like water either?" my bride asks.

"It's not the water. It's what's in it." He stomps, his hoof striking stone with a loud clack.

Water surges past, leaping as it flows from the mountains toward the sea in an ever persistent rush. Sun sparkles off the surface in tiny blinding flashes, and the occasional wet brown rock breaks through the water like a mountain piercing clouds, everything above the waterline sharp, everything below worn smoother.

The rush and roar of the river changes, adding a chorus of burbling voices. The white crests of water foaming around the rocks lift to become hands.

Taylor sways forward in the saddle, and my hand tightens across her stomach. Fascination colors her tone. "What are they?"

"Water nymphs," Storm answers, spitting the words as if they're the bitterest of tastes on his tongue.

His haunches bunch as he settles back, coiling them tightly, only to spring forward.

Taylor whoops at the speedy rush, a laugh in her voice as her body's thrown back into mine. My knees dig into Storm's sides, and I lean forward, tucking her even more firmly to me as the unicorn races into the river.

Yet it's a race he'll never win. For all his strength and speed, the nymphs are in their element. Bright watery voices lift in gladdened cries as the water nymphs rise from the surface. Long flowing-water hair shrouds their translucent forms as their sea-foam hands brush along Storm's stomach in tickling touches. He snorts, his legs churning harder as his feet lose touch with the river bed and he swims across the deepest part.

I lift my knees higher, pushing Taylor's feet up above the waterline. The specially treated leather of my boots and pants might be waterproof, but I doubt the same applies to her human clothing.

My bride laughs, delighted, and the close nymphs hear her joy and start calling out to her as well. Taylor leans over, her whole body straining, and I brace to keep her safe even while letting her stretch ever farther, for her happiness resonates through me, and I want nothing more than to hear her laugh again.

And she does the moment those water-foam fingers slide across hers. "Hello!" she calls out, high and excited. "Hello, I'm Taylor!"

Storm continues to swim as quickly as he can, and I feel the vibration through his body when his front hooves strike ground again. He surges forward to get all four feet planted and dashes up, out of the river.

Taylor twists around, leaning out to try to see past me. "Oh, they're so lovely!"

"No, they're not." Storm snorts and shakes his head, his mane flying about. "They tickle."

He says it with such affront even I laugh, the deeper sound joining with my bride's lighter joy. For a moment, we are one in what we feel, and it gives me hope.

I will win her good regard and make her happy for all her days.

Storm drops into a trot as he enters a stand of blue birch, the shade of the forest wrapping around us.

The feline fae appears at our side, emerging from the shadows in an easy lope, her smoke-gray and silver fur as dry as ever.

"Mist!" Taylor cries out. "But how?"

Mist grins, her smile bright in her dark face. "A cat never tells its secrets."

"Taylor leans back and whispers, "Do you know?"

"The cat sith walk the shadow roads no one else can see." I shrug. "It's all I know."

"It's not for you to know," Mist says, making it clear exactly how keen her hearing is.

"If you use different ways to get around," Taylor says, her tone thoughtful, "then can you get to other realms of Faerie? Can you get to Earth?"

My hand tightens on her. Does she wish to go back? Does she want to leave?

"No," Mist says. "The cat sith used to roam the realms, free to come and go as we pleased. But when all the doors of Faerie slammed closed, the longer parts of our roads were severed as well."

"Only the Moon Goddess has the power to move between worlds," I growl, not liking the thought that while the goddess brought me my moon bound bride, that means she could also take her away.