17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Be careful, dear heir. For where your heart leans, your mind will follow, and where your mind goes, Sídhetír listens and responds." – Lord Louis, Third Lord of Sídhetír.

W hen I arrived at the manor, I was besieged by people. Oren was in the front of the assault, his eyes wet and his hands hesitant, like he truly feared he would do further injury to me. I appeared far worse than I actually was. My bottom lip was split and a massive bruise decorated the side of my face, and those were the only visible injuries, but it was enough.

The brothers swarmed around me like bees, buzzing in a cloud of worry mixed with anger. The anger was directed at me, but the root of it nestled in fear, so their pinched expressions and tight voices didn't stab deep.

I was hurt and had stayed out overnight with a dark fae; of course they were upset.

I stifled a laugh. If Cethin and I hadn't already been engaged, Lord Byrne could've demanded he marry me because he'd "ruined" me when he took me away without a chaperone. I was over twenty, so an adult, but I hadn't reached my majority of thirty. I required a chaperone, though my low birth helped shield me from scrutiny. Not that it mattered. Cethin was already tied to me.

Oren led the charge, insisting I get seen by the physician, Ilene Maher. I politely declined, but the Byrnes wouldn't hear of it, even when I told them my fiancé had taken care of me. After a quick examination, where she tutted at me as much as Iris had and asked multiple questions about the deceased fae, I was planted in Lord Byrne's bookroom.

This time Lord Byrne and I were not alone. Lady Hester and Oren hovered behind his shoulders while the rest of the brothers filled the space, making the air warm and stagnant. I wished this conversation had been held outside in the garden, but that wouldn't have been private. Though the fae representatives could overhear us through the oak door, if they chose to eavesdrop.

A vision of the two austere fae pressed against the solid door in an attempt to catch the slightest word bloomed inside my mind's eye. I stifled a chuckle, sensing my amusement wouldn't be appreciated in the tense environment and would result in an even more severe scolding than I was about to receive.

Lord Byrne steepled his hands. His even breaths and the tightness of his shoulders spoke to the worry, if not anger, raging within him. During the thirteen years living in his household as a ward, then Oren's aide, I could count on one hand—and have leftover fingers—the times I'd seen such an expression directed at me. Yet in the last two weeks, I'd seen it multiple times.

I'd never caused trouble before, though I didn't regret my actions.

Something rumbled pleasantly deep within me. I didn't know whence it came, but it was there all the same. An awareness of something with no words or thoughts was rooted within me, burrowing deep. My eyes flicked to my left arm as my thoughts turned to the bloom growing on my forearm. Cethin, maybe?

"Aidan," Lord Byrne said in a stern voice tinged with betrayal, "did you lie to me about your fiancé still being here?"

"No," I said, for I truly hadn't, and yet I had omitted the fact he probably was. "I told you I had asked him to leave, which I did."

"Did you know he was here?"

"I knew it was a possibility."

His frown deepened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lady Hester rested a hand on his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked. "Did you fear our disapproval?"

My feelings at that moment had been complicated. I hadn't wanted to see Cethin, but I had at the same time. Not to mention the unnamed urge to protect him. I parsed through what to say, but I couldn't find the right words. I shrugged in response.

"Do you care for him?" she asked.

"Yes." I would not deny my feelings for Cethin.

Lady Hester came around the desk to hold my face between her petite hands. "While I don't approve of this rushed engagement, he saved your and Sevrin's life. He has earned my thanks, even if I won't tell him."

"I want to meet him," Lord Byrne said before I could reply to Lady Hester. His demand was echoed by each of the Byrne brothers. There would be no escape, and if he was to be my husband, he did need to meet the people who had raised me after my mother died.

"I will ask him."

With that, the tension in the room began to dim, but still an undercurrent thrummed. Thomas and Whitaker shared a look, then glanced at their father, who, in return, met their gazes. Even Lady Hester was tense, gripping Lord Byrne's shoulder. The others seemed calm, but something was setting the aforementioned people on edge.

"Sevrin told me what occurred with the light fae," Lord Byrne said after a few moments of silence. "While I applaud the initiative, it wasn't wise to approach a fae, especially when only one of you was armed."

Whit glared at me, and my shoulders slumped. We'd all been taught how to defend ourselves. I had an iron dagger—several in fact—but I'd left the manor without one each time, even when Sevrin and I intended to search for the fae.

"Next time, if you see a fae, please get help before confronting them," he finished.

It was a reasonable request, and my aching ribs were a testament to my desire not to run into another random fae.

Sevrin slung an arm over my shoulders. "You haven't met Cethin yet, but trust me, he would never allow anything to hurt Aidan."

"Cethin? Is that his name?" Lord Byrne asked, hand lifting to grab Hester's.

I had kept his name to myself for reasons I didn't understand, but Sevrin had heard me call Cethin by his name when he rescued us. "Yes."

The creases in Lord Byrne's forehead deepened as he glanced at his wife. "That name is familiar."

"It is," she replied, placing a hand on her chin. "But I cannot recall from where."

"Have you met him before?" Lord Byrne asked.

"No."

"Hmm. I will have to keep thinking on it," he said. "I expect to meet him. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"I will ask, but I cannot make Cethin do anything."

"I want to meet him." Lord Byrne's voice hardened.

Thomas stepped forward. "We all do, Aidan. Bring him home."

"I will try."

A sharp rap invaded my consciousness. I groaned, rolling over. My room was dark, except for a low fire warding off the chill from the autumn night. Wind rustled outside, and something rumbled deep within me, soothing me. Waves of sleep washed over me, and I sighed.

The tapping came a second time, and I snarled something unintelligible as I searched for the source.

It had been a long day of people fussing over me, which had been one part lovely, because it made me feel cared for, and one part annoying, because I wasn't allowed to stir without someone saying something.

Oren had been the only one absent for most of the day. When I did finally see him, he'd been speaking with Lord Abnus again, buried in the corner of the library, drinking tea. A huge smile had graced Oren's face; that and his relaxed posture spoke to his ease with the dark fae.

Blodwen had gained no ground, but where she failed, Abnus triumphed. It seemed Sídhetír would align with the Night Court. Oren had made no decisions, even when Lord Byrne pressed. He simply said he didn't feel compelled to do so, though his hesitation was extending the transition.

The sharp noise came yet again, drawing me to the present. I threw off the blankets and scoured the room for the offender. When I shifted to the window, I paused before racing across the room, arm around my ribs. I threw the window open, and Cethin climbed in, wings vanishing.

"Aidan."

"You came."

"I said I would."

"Why didn't you come in like last time?"

His expression tightened. "I didn't know if you would accept me."

I took his hand, and Cethin didn't resist. We settled beneath the covers, and his black eyes ran over my face, glinting in the flickering firelight. His fingertips trailed over the bruise on my face, his touch so light it caused no pain.

"Lord Byrne wants to meet you, as do all of his sons."

"All his sons, you say?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," Cethin commented, his fingers continuing their exploration.

"Will you meet with them?"

"If you want me to."

I wouldn't say want was the correct word. "I think you should."

"Then I shall. When?"

"Tomorrow."

"I will accompany you to breakfast," he announced in a bland voice.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm spending the night. Breakfast seems the most convenient time to meet them. Unless you would like to stay in bed? I would not be opposed to that."

Cethin had no way of knowing the impropriety of such a statement. While it wasn't uncommon for people to conduct sexual relationships prior to marriage, social conventions and the church demanded such relationships were not right until after marriage. Most simply kept them secret. Bringing him to breakfast was the same as announcing he had spent the night in my room, even if almost everyone already assumed we'd fucked.

"That may present problems," I said carefully.

"Why?"

"It will not be a private setting, and the fae representatives will be there courting Oren's favor. Do you wish to meet with them?"

"No," he replied.

"Then you will have to wait until later in the afternoon, but you can stay in my room."

He glanced around. "I don't mind that."

With the problem settled, I closed my eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. My pulse skittered from the light scent wafting off Cethin. The thorns on my arms throbbed. Cethin rested an arm on my waist as he moved closer, and my stomach swooped. My cock had begun to stiffen from his close proximity. It took literally nothing for Cethin to stir my desire.

Cethin's hand started to slide down my chest. "May I touch you?"

"Only if I can touch you."

"You may touch me whenever you like." His fingers grabbed the base of my nightshirt and pulled it over my head, and I winced.

With quick movements, Cethin tugged off his clothes, leaving him bare to my wandering fingers. The thorny vines moved under my touch, glowing. An invisible wind rushed over the flowers, making the petals move and silver pollen drift over his skin.

I placed his hand on the growing bud on my forearm. "What does it mean?"

Cethin kissed it, tongue tracing the petal. My cock hardened painfully. I easily recalled that skilled tongue on me.

"Our bond is deepening." His mouth slid up my arm, pressing kiss after kiss on my skin until he paused on my collarbone. "There's another bud here."

In the darkness, I couldn't see it, but I trusted his word. "How many will I get?"

"Five."

His lips brushed the newest flower while his fingers curled around my cock and pumped, stroking from base to tip. I groaned, hips arching to follow the movement. My breath sharpened when my ribs screamed.

Cethin growled. "Do not harm yourself, Aidan."

"Don't stop," I ordered as I ran my fingers over his side, feeling the muscles contract. I tried to kiss him, but Cethin drew away. My mouth opened to complain, but he drew me into a seated position. "What?"

"Come here." Cethin settled me on his lap so our cocks touched. The tip of his cock glistened in the firelight as yet another bead of pre-cum slipped out. His breathing was as uneven as my own. His long fingers slid over my slit, making me moan, then swiped the pre-cum off his own cock before wrapping around both of us, pressing us together. Caged between his fingers, he slid up and down, and I groaned at the slippery friction, head falling back.

I gripped his shoulders, biting my lip. "Fuck, Cethin."

He chuckled. "You may if you like, but you are too injured at the moment."

Heat welled in my stomach as my cock stiffened even further. Did he mean that? I'd assumed I would be on the receiving end.

He picked up speed and stole all thought. I pressed my mouth to his, kissing him frantically as I shoved my tongue inside to taste him. Cethin groaned against my lips, his fingers moving even faster.

My balls drew up tight against the base of my shaft as pleasure began to build with each stroke. When I thought I would explode, Cethin stopped. I released a guttural noise and bit his lip. He chuckled, but his fingers did not return to their earlier pumping. Instead, he circled the head of my cock.

Eyes closed, I moaned. "Shit."

He kissed my neck, sucking and biting me. His whisper-soft touches along my cock lit a fire in me until I was writhing on his lap, trying to rub on his stomach in an attempt to seek friction of any kind. I was so close and desperate for release.

I reached down, pinning our cocks together, and began pumping. The touch felt so amazing, it was almost painful. My ass clenched as my balls tightened further. My mouth attacked Cethin's. I sucked on his tongue and nibbled his lips. I knew when he was getting close because he growled my name and panted against my mouth.

With one last stroke, we both erupted. Thick ropes of white cum splattered our chests. I tried to keep stroking us as we came, but I couldn't, lost in the sweeping pleasure that drew a shout from my lips. Cethin's hand wrapped around mine, and he milked our cocks for every last drop.

When we finished, I panted, sagging against Cethin. He kissed me gently, both of us spent and sated. Slowly, he helped me lay back until I rested against the sheets. He hovered over me, kissing me slowly. I traced my fingers over the vines on his ribs, unable to stop touching him.

After a moment, he pulled back and I reached for him. "Where are you going?"

"To get a cloth to clean you up." He grabbed a towel next to the washing bowl on my dresser. He wiped my release off my stomach and cleaned my limp cock, making me blush, before doing the same for himself. Cethin snuggled against me, holding me close.

I kissed the hollow of his throat. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Are you mad that I'm your mate?"

"No," he instantly replied. "You are the best thing in my life, Aidan."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Words are difficult for me, and I feared you would leave. That our bond would scare you. Mates are not a human concept, and all you know is humanity."

"But I needed you to tell me, Cethin. I need you to tell me the words. Not knowing makes it worse."

"I will try. Please be patient with me. I have been alone for a very long time."

Chewing on my lip, I asked, "How old are you?"

"Such a question is impossible to answer. Time moves differently in the fae realm than in yours, and we noble fae are unconcerned with our age once we reach adulthood. But I am very old."

I pushed the thought away. I refused to allow his far greater age to rob the happiness of this moment. "You're mine, right?"

"I am only yours."

Arms hooked around his waist, I pressed my face against his chest, inhaling his scent. Fair was fair. Besides, it was the truth. "And I am only yours."