Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CAELAN

I 'm midway through a very satisfactory evening nap when a strange tingling sensation in my midsection rouses me from dozing.

I bolt upright, sucking in a breath of surprise as the tingling grows stronger, more insistent, like something's hooked deep inside my ribs.

"Must be the after effect of dealing with dwarves," I mutter. "Bad for digestion."

I start to lie back down, frowning to myself, when the sensation turns deeply unpleasant, pressure rising all around me. My eardrums begin to thrum, drum-like and distant, but growing faster, louder.

I close my eyes, trying to blot it all out, and when I open them again, I'm no longer in my paltry rented room at the most threadbare inn known to the world.

Dizzy, I do my best to stand up, slightly concerned and very annoyed at my new circumstance. Mist and fog curl around my legs, the scents of wherever I am overpowering and strong: the wet growth of a forest floor, many, many magical ingredients, burning incense, and, strangely, lemon bars.

The stamp of the magic that's brought me here is familiar, and at first, my stomach swoops—but it's not the Dark Queen's.

A lazy smile tugs up my lips as the steamy vapor around me begins to dissipate, because I recognize that magic.

"Well, little Wren, my golden witch. What a surprise to be summoned like this," I purr into the darkness. Light blooms around me in a half-sphere, and at that, my eyes do widen in surprise. Yellow ribbons of power crisscross all around me, interspersed with vermillion streaks, verdant emerald threads, and an improbable candy-coating pink spliced throughout.

"A binding spell," I hiss, my eyes flashing. "Little witch, if you wanted my body, all you had to do was ask."

"I told you you should have just asked," a voice whispers, but it's not my Wren. Another witch, then. Has my mortal outcast found a coven, then?

Not that I care.

"I wanted to be certain," a stubborn voice says, and I grin sharply because I recognize that voice.

"Say my name," I command silkily, aroused in spite of my predicament, or maybe because of it, because this little golden-haired witch has outmaneuvered me. Me .

The bargainer, the rogue, the knave of the Dark Queen's court.

And I love it.

"You're not the one who determines how this conversation goes, Caelan." Wren sounds miffed, and when her lovely little face comes into view, she looks it, too. Pink-cheeked and flush with power, her eyes very nearly glowing in the dim light.

My breath catches, the tingling under my ribs coming back full force.

A good, solid binding spell, then. Good for her.

Pride fills me on her behalf, even as annoyance at being summoned and bound flares anew.

"And yet you said my name so prettily anyway," I tell her, grinning widely. "To what do I owe the pleasure of another night of your company?"

"Another night?" one of the witches in her circle gasps.

"That's right, she didn't tell you? Naughty Wren, the little bird who caught a fairy in a cage of colors." I gesture to the strange shape all around me.

It's a nice bit of a magic, but I'm fairly sure I could break it.

Might hurt though. Probably not worth it.

Besides, I'm curious to a fault.

"Stop making it sound so…" she sputters, trying to put a name to whatever it is she thinks I'm doing.

"Delicious?" I supply, winking outrageously.

She glares at me, and I file the expression away for later. Wren is proving to be even more fun than I imagined in my wildest daydreams.

Well, that's not true, not entirely. I have a very vivid imagination.

"Risqué?" I press. "Intimidating? Delightful? Promising?"

"Illicit!" she snaps. She folds her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts up, and my gaze dips to the soft, round shape of them. A pale expanse of lightly freckled skin, the hollow dip of collarbones at her throat, and that smooth column of her neck.

Perfect for sinking teeth into.

"Illicit sounds like a fun place to start," I drawl, then raise an eyebrow. "Is this your idea of a good time, then? I'm not usually into games of being dominated, but I suppose I can make an exception if that's where your predilections lie."

One of the witches holding the binding spell laughs quietly. Red, I think, from the way the color jangles against the others.

"I see why you like him," the red witch says in a quiet, amused murmur.

"That is not, I do not like him, that's not why we?—"

"Enough of the foreplay, Wren. Do you want to join me in here or am I meant to show you my fae parts as an exhibition?" I know full well that's not why she's put me in her silly bubble, but I can't say I mind the way she screeches in outrage as I start to tug on the hem of my shirt.

"You don't want me to strip down first? Alright, dealer's choice, let me just?—"

Before I can whip my cock out, she stops me, her power ramming into me in a heady wave.

"I am bound to do your bidding," I tell her drily.

She juts her chin out, the stubborn little thing, and pouts.

Pouts! As if I asked her to put me here.

I hold back a laugh, highly amused, but unwilling to irritate her further.

For the moment, at least.

"I insist you take me to find a vein of dragon sapphire and do your best to help me bring it safely back to my store, without subterfuge or ill will towards me."

Out of all the things I thought my sweet golden witch would say, that was not among them.

She forced my hand.

Before I could trap her into going with me to beat the damnable dwarves to the dragon sapphire, she trapped me into going with her .

Stunned, I can only stare at her.

Blonde hair glows in the light of the magic sphere, shining and glossy and begging to be pulled while her mouth opens against mine. Green shoes in mint condition peek out from under a pair of linen trousers that reveal more than they conceal, a fact I like very much.

"You changed your hair," I croak.

Her hand goes to the cascade of it before she remembers she's supposed to be the one in charge and it falls away.

Too bad.

I'd like to see her touch herself.

Everywhere.

"Well? Do you agree to accompany me?"

"Of course," I tell her, and it's completely sincere, for once in my very long life. "All you had to do was ask." I motion to the bubble around me. "This is a nice bit of insurance though, I suppose."

"And you're not going to try to double-cross me or hurt me?"

"Why would I?" I counter.

Keeping her on her delicate little toes while we spend lots of time together on the road is going to be fun. So much fun with this lovely, surprising creature.

"I can hardly stand the excitement of planning for our journey," I tell her as she continues to glare at me, as if this entire endeavor was all my doing.

A laugh threatens, but I push it down.

"We'll leave tomorrow morning," she says tartly. "I expect you packed and ready at dawn."

"Perfect," I purr. "I can't wait to spend day after day in your company, golden Wren."

"It's not, that's not?—"

"Of course, I'm truly looking forward to seeing what you have in mind for your newly bound fae," I motion to myself, "at night. Mmm. And just as it's getting cold out. You sly minx. Don't think I don't see straight through you."

"I will see you at dawn." Her voice cracks like a whip, and I can tell I've pushed her just a bit too far.

"Begone, Caelan of the Underhill," she finishes.

And just like that, I'm back in my bed, wide awake, and afire with delight.

What an excellent turn of events.