Fingers played with Amelia’s hair, stirring her from a deep sleep. She came to quickly, hyperaware that both of them were naked from the waist down in a very compromising position, with her body still straddling Rennick’s hips and her chest pressed to his.
“Good morning, love,” his gravelly morning voice rumbled, vibrating his chest.
She waited for embarrassment to come but felt nothing other than giddy excitement. Everything she’d waited for, for years, lay beneath her. “Good morning,” she giggled, then mentally slapped herself. Giggles? What am I, twelve?
His heart beat steady against her ear with every rise of his chest. “What are you thinking about, love?”
If I come on to you, will you turn me down again?
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “I doubt you want to be sore while traveling in a bouncing carriage.”
If he meant to dampen her lust, he’d failed miserably. His hand snaked around the back of her thigh and skimmed over her pussy. “Fuck. We need to go now, or I won’t be able to hold back.”
She finally lifted her head from his chest with a coy smile. “Then don’t.”
He was up from the bed in three seconds flat and placing her on her feet. “Get dressed. The men and carriage will be here soon.” His dick jutted out, long and proud, and she thanked the gods she’d used the fake ones he sent because in no other world would he be able to fit inside of her otherwise.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he told her, pushing down his erection. “I will dress you myself if I have to.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she teased before disappearing into the bathroom to relieve herself and get ready for the long day ahead.
The ride to the Mountain Kingdom wasn’t as long as Amelia initially thought, though Rennick claimed it took longer because of the extra weight of the cart. It wasn’t even lunch time yet when they approached the barrier. Amelia peeked her head through the window of the carriage and gasped. She could feel the magic radiating toward her.
Her eyes darted toward the human and fae guards standing at the gate. “I don’t have a permit.”
Rennick pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to the guard approaching their window. “Yes, you do.”
She stared at the paper as the guard read it, straightened, and handed it back. “Have a safe trip, Your Majesty.” He stepped back and signaled for the other guards to let them through.
Amelia took the permit from Rennick and scanned it over. “When did you get this?” She’d run into him fairly early in the morning, then they had spent the entire day together. When had he found the time?
“Finn and I rode through the night to see the queen.”
Imagine being able to see the queen whenever you wished?
Ignoring the authority this man held, she changed the subject before she chickened out and demanded to go back home. She wasn’t worthy of him, and she knew it. Everyone would know it when they saw her. “Tell me about the fae.”
The carriage drove through a forest with trees unlike any Amelia had ever seen. Pine needles and leaves of all different colors adorned them. With snow capping the colorful foliage, they reminded her of candy dipped in sugar.
“All fae are faster and stronger than humans,” Rennick said, leaning back against the plush cushioned seat, “and they can glamour. That’s the extent of non-royal fae magic.”
She lifted a brow. “And what of royal fae?”
He grinned, deepening the dimples she loved so much. “We have the same magic, but stronger. I can glamour an entire kingdom’s population at once, while other fae can glamour themselves and maybe one or two others. Royals are faster and stronger than non-royals. We have mate bonds.” He tapped the left side of his chest. “And we have familiars.”
“Non-royals don’t have mates?”
He shook his head. “Not unless they’re a royal’s fated mate.”
She considered the new information, wishing she’d waited until she had a piece of paper to write it all down. “And what’s a familiar?” She glanced at the wing tattoo poking out of the top of his shirt.
After he explained familiars and told her about Greta, she stared out the window, lost in thought. What would it be like to see through the eyes of a wild animal? Glancing down at Eddy in her lap, she smiled. What would I see through your eyes?
The tiny fox nuzzled into her legs as if reading her thoughts.
“How did you know where to find me?” she mused, turning her attention back to Rennick. “You couldn’t leave your kingdom.” She’d peppered him with questions about his life the entire ride, and when he’d told her about why he couldn’t retrieve her sooner, she felt a pang of guilt at the irritation she’d harbored for his absence.
He thought for too long, and she wondered if he considered lying to her. “When royal fae turn thirteen, the gods whisper the name of their fated mate for only them to hear.” His eyes softened. “The first time I heard your name, I thought it was the prettiest name I’d ever heard.”
She bit back a smile that quickly turned to a scream when she glanced out of the window and saw a giant beast. It looked like a wolf, but it was the size of a horse and had red eyes and long teeth that extended past its bottom jaw. It was menacing at best.
The monstrous creature didn’t faze the driver. He must bring people across the barrier often, but how did one get used to a brush with death?
The beast itself ignored their presence, but she didn’t care and practically jumped across the seat into Rennick’s lap, clutching a miffed Eddy to her chest.
Rennick held her tight as she squeezed her eyes shut, wrapped her free arm around him, and smashed her face against his chest. He ran a soothing hand down her hair and rested his chin on the top of her head. “He cannot see us.”
Glamour.
For the one-hundredth time since meeting her mate, she felt stupid. “Sorry,” she mumbled against his shirt and pulled back. She glanced at her seat, reluctant to leave the safe haven of his arms.
He re-situated her to a more comfortable position and said, “You’ll stay here.”
Eddy huffed and jumped onto the seat beside them. Amelia burrowed deeper into Rennick’s chest and swore she felt him smile.
Unsure how to broach a subject she’d been curious about for years, she ran a hand down his chest, playing with the edge of his jacket. “Will you tell me about your mother?” It was a delicate subject, but if they were to be married, she wanted to know everything about him. “I used to talk to her in the stars,” she added quietly.
A long pause followed her admission, and she feared she’d gone too far until his arms tightened around her, and he took a deep breath. “Every time you show me more of yourself, I thank the gods for you.”
She didn’t know how to respond to his admission, so she said, “Tell me about her.”
After a long pause, Rennick spoke, his voice carrying a carrying fond notes of nostalgia. “Everything excited her,” he divulged. “She never met a stranger, and the staff loved her, especially the gardeners. She grew up in the Garden Kingdom, and my father said no one was more determined to make something grow in the snow than she was.”
“And did she?” Not much vegetation survived in the northern region of the Human Kingdom. Only the green of the evergreen trees.
“She did.” His eyes glittered as he chuckled. “After my father built her a hot house. I’ll show you once you’re settled in.”
She feared how he would react to her next question. “How did she die?”
Rennick’s chest stopped moving, and Amelia held her breath, too. “A group of rebels killed her while she was gardening.”
Amelia’s breath hitched. “Rebels?”
“Groups of fae who wish to overthrow the royals,” he explained. “Here in the Mountain Kingdom, we treat our people well. They always have food and adequate lodging regardless of their financial status, as well as access to medical attention when needed.”
Her mouth turned down. “Then why are the rebels unhappy?”
“There will always be those who think they would do a better job or who think it’s unfair that the throne is inherited through bloodlines.” He shifted beneath her. “They forget that our bloodlines are blessed by the gods. We can protect the people in a way they cannot. I could glamour every citizen in our kingdom. Non-royal fae can’t.”
“What about the royal fae who don’t rule the kingdoms?” He’d told her in an old letter that he was an only child, but what if he’d had siblings?
After a beat, he responded, “Royals usually only have one child.”
She lifted a skeptical brow. “Usually?”
“Anything is possible,” he said cryptically.
“But what if an heir or the ruling king and queen die before they have a child?”
He sighed, but his voice was patient. “That’s never happened, but if it did, either the gods will fix it, or they won’t. We don’t know much about them other than they’re in the heavens and Orcus, the devil himself, is in hell. The gods created us, gave the first fae and humans decrees to follow, then left. With the exception of coming back to create the barrier thousands of years ago, no one has heard from them since.” He brushed a piece of hair from her face. “The world is the way it is because it just is, and if something abnormal happens that we’ve never seen before, either the gods will grace us with their presence, or we’ll find a way to deal with it ourselves.”
Amelia stared, wide-eyed, at the enormous palace built from white stone with ornate golden accents adorning its tall towers. It was bigger than anything she’d ever seen.
Rennick’s lips grazed her ear. “Welcome home.”
Home. This kingdom didn’t feel like home, but he did.
Which was insane because they just met. Kind of.
Did his correspondence over the years make her feel that way, or was it the bond? Her heart dropped at the thought of him only wanting her because of something he had no choice in.
Without it, she knew he wouldn’t spare her a second glance. She wasn’t beautiful like some women. It wasn’t a woe-is-me mentality; it was a fact. She wasn’t ugly, nor did she feel lesser than, but she wasn’t naïve either. In her experience, someone who looked like him didn’t want plain when they could have exquisite.
Rennick gripped Amelia’s chin and lifted her face toward his. “What’s wrong?” Noticing her confusion, he added, “I can feel you.”
Annoyance at the lack of privacy within her own mind had her wrenching herself from his grip. “Stop reading my emotions. Can you cut off the connection?
His body froze. Statues moved more than he did in that moment. “You don’t want the mate bond?”
Shit. “That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly. “I don’t like you knowing what I’m feeling. Is there any way to stop that part of the bond?”
He relaxed against the seat. “Not to my knowledge, but we can look into it.” His fingers ran through the ends of her hair, something he had done often since meeting her. “I like knowing when something affects you enough to travel down the bond. When you’re overjoyed, so am I, and when you hurt, I will destroy whatever caused you to feel that way.”
“That’s not healthy.” She leaned into him, staring out the window. “You shouldn’t sacrifice your happiness for mine. I want you to do what makes you happy, and if it makes me unhappy, I’ll let you know.”
He tugged on the ends of her hair, and she tilted her head back. “Your happiness is not the only thing that makes me happy, but make no mistake, if a sacrifice is required, I will do it. Nothing is more important to me than you, little mate. Never forget that.”
A group of men waiting to unload the cart stared openly at Amelia as she and Rennick exited the carriage.
Ever the protective mate, Rennick wrapped his arm around Amelia’s shoulders and tucked her into his side. “You have nothing to be afraid of,” he whispered. “No one knows who you are and your human ears are covered by your hair.”
“You didn’t tell them you were bringing your mate home?” She didn’t know why, but the knowledge that he’d not told anyone they were mates hurt a little. Did Ora really know who she was to him, or did she think Amelia was someone else, like a friend or a cousin?
Remembering the catty gifts, she knew Ora had at least an inkling of who Amelia was to him.
“You have no magic,” he replied, as though that was answer enough. “If someone tries to hurt you, you’ll be powerless against them, but when we marry, you will be as powerful as I am.”
“Will I have a familiar?” The thought excited her. How would Eddy handle another animal? On cue, the fox started thrashing around until she put him down.
He licked her leg and trotted off, slipping through the palace gates, and then disappearing around the corner. She trusted he’d find his way back, even though they were in an unfamiliar area. While she considered him a pet, he was still a wild animal, and she had to remember that.
Rennick scratched at his jaw. “I’m not sure. Usually only those of royal blood get them. You might.”
There was that word again. Usually.
“I’ll get your other abilities even though I’m human?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but I believe so. You’re the first magicless mate of any fae that I know of.”
“If you aren’t sure, wouldn’t it have been smarter to leave me in the Human Kingdom instead of bringing me to a kingdom full of fae?”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “If you remain mostly human after we marry, you will have the protection of the royal guards when I’m not around. You’ll have it now as well, but once you are queen, they will be bound to you as they are to me.”
She balked. “Bound?” How many bonds would she have?
He chuckled. “Not by magic, by an oath. They swore an oath to the royal family, and once you marry into it, they are bound to you by duty.”
“That would have been good information to offer when I asked about fae,” she grumbled.
Palace staff members stared as they walked by, and she offered them friendly smiles. Some returned the gesture, but others turned away and whispered amongst themselves. They must know what she was despite her hidden ears. “Do fae not like humans?” she asked quietly.
“It’s not a dislike,” he said carefully, “more of a disinterest. They think humans are a weak liability.”
Her steps faltered. “Then why marry me? Just because I’m your mate doesn’t mean they’ll accept me as their queen.” Panic tried to claw its way through her. “Will I have a target on my back? They’ll try to kill me for weakening the royal bloodline!”
Rennick stopped and grabbed both sides of her face, forcing her to look at him. “No one will harm a hair on your head or speak ill of you, and if they try, I will mount their heads on the front gate.”
“Stop threatening to kill people,” she whisper-yelled, calming slightly at his touch. “You can’t murder someone for not liking me. You would likely have no kingdom left.”
He straightened and shrugged. “It would be easier to manage.”
