Horrified, my jaw drops. “You mean, they exist in that until they die of dehydration or something?”

  “Fae don’t need water or food to live either. Eventually, they die of old age.”

  “But—but that could be thousands of years.”

  “Exactly. Your agony would’ve been ended much more quickly,” Zander retorts gruffly. “Minutes, Maelyn. You were minutes away from ceasing to exist.”

  I start shivering again. “I know.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “Something saved me.”

  “Something?”

  “A big…” I wave my uninjured hand, “half-bird, half-lion thing.”

  “A griffin?”

  “Yeah, I think so. That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” At first, when the strong talon wrapped around my torso, I thought it was Zander. I thought it was his arm reaching into the depths of hell to save me. Then I saw the claws once we broke the surface.

  “Was it terrifying?”

  “Yes.” I blow out a breath and add, “But also kind of magnificent.”

  Shaking his head with disbelief, Zander chuckles a little. Maybe he thinks I hallucinated it.

  “What? I’m serious. It was right there.” I throw an arm out to where the creature had been just minutes before, and I’m a little shocked by the pink marks decorating my skin. Before, they were red and bleeding. Now they’re closed, appearing as if they’re days old.

  Zander holds up a hand in surrender. “I trust you about the griffin. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  “You called it magnificent. Why?”

  “Because it was big and intimidating, but it was gentle, too.”

  “Would you say the same about me?”

  I pause. Zander has a point. He’s all those things.

  Swaying my way, he lowers his head until his mouth is just an inch away from mine. “Would you say I’m magnificent, too, Mae?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But the griffin didn’t ask anything of me. It just saved me, made sure I was okay, then left.”

  Zander sighs sadly. “What am I going to do with you, wife?”

  “Let me go.” My voice betrays me. Because the demand has lost its fire, sounding more like a weak suggestion.

  “What do you feel when I’m this close to you?” Zander asks, his breath wisping over my mouth.

  It would be so easy to close the distance between us. To get lost in his kiss like I did before. In my wildest dreams, I’d never imagined kissing could be that good. That powerful.

  For a glorious minute, I was blissfully unaware of everything around us as we made out. I know what Zander tastes like. How soft and warm his tongue is. How nice it would be to let good sensations eclipse all my thoughts.

  And that terrifies me. “Scared.”

  “Nothing else?”

  Oh, I feel lots of other things. Things I’ve never felt before. “I plead the fifth.”

  He frowns harder. “There’s something wrong with our bond. My mate should never run from me.”

  “I’m sorry I did, if that makes any difference.” Boy, am I sorry. What an epic failure.

  “We’re soul mates,” he goes on vehemently. “You’re supposed to be drawn to me. To ache for me as I ache for you.”

  There have been times when my body reacted to him so intensely that it hurt, but I don’t voice that confession.

  “I hate to admit it, but we need help,” he mutters glumly.

  “What kind of help?”

  His lip curls with distaste. “The help of a witch.”

  Maelyn

  Eavesdropping just inside the doorway of the tent, I lean toward the canvas flap that ripples with the breeze.

  “Find a messenger sprite and send her to the palace in Cassia,” Zander tells one of his men. “Give her a portal. She’s to give it to Astrid, and only Astrid. If she’s quick enough, the witch should be able to use it to get here by tomorrow morning. I’ll make it worth her while.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” Thayne responds.

  Apparently they’re giving out portals to everyone but me.

  Zander’s quiet footsteps head this way, so I leap onto the mattress and sit cross-legged with my hands clasped in my lap. If Zander suspects my spying, he doesn’t mention it when he comes inside.

  “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Yeah.” In fact, I might’ve overindulged on the bean soup that was served up for dinner. Camp food is supposed to be bland, but the soup was rich and salty, and even though I’m full, just thinking about it makes my mouth water.

  Zander’s lips quirk up. “You liked it?”

  “It was pretty good,” I admit.

  “Are you in need of anything else?”

  Thanks to Marek, I’ve been healed and I’m as good as new. I already took care of my personal needs behind a tree in the woods surrounding our camp, which was slightly embarrassing because Zander insisted on standing nearby and I’m sure he heard the tinkle.

  My wet clothes are hanging from a rod holding up the ceiling of the tent, and I’m in another one of Zander’s nightshirts. I have on a pair of his underwear, too. They’re like boxer briefs, only shorter. Most of my panties are boy shorts, so it’s not too dissimilar from what I’m used to, but I can’t stop thinking about the fact that these have been on Zander’s privates. And now they’re on my privates. Yes, they’re clean, but there’s something super intimate about that.

  It occurs to me again—technically, we got married today. I can only assume a traditional wedding night is the same for married couples here. Is Zander expecting sex? Will he push it, even if I say no?

  Horrifying visions of him stripping me and roughly pushing my thighs apart while I’m powerless to stop it pop up in my mind. I know it’s not a rational fear. Zander said he would never hurt me, and I’m inclined to believe him.

  His amused expression immediately drops. “What happened just then? Where are your thoughts at?”

  “You’re not—” I cough as my throat gets tight with panic. “You’re not expecting anything, are you?”

  “Expecting what?” His face is blank.

  “You know, it’s your wedding night—”

  “It’s your wedding night, too.” He cuts me off.

  “Yeah. Well. What I’m saying is, you’re a man. Are you going to—are you going to want—are you going to make me…?”

  The meaning of my rambling finally sinks in and Zander’s face gets hard. His eyes narrow and his teeth grind audibly. “I would never force myself on you. When we consummate our union, you’ll be begging for my cock.”

  I cough again, this time from shock. No one has ever talked to me that way. I highly doubt I’ll ever be begging for sex, but I don’t say that.

  “Okay. I’m all set, then.”

  “Good. Now you get to choose.” Zander holds up some ropes. Two loops have been formed with knots, and the rough material is padded by thick white bandages. “You can sleep with these on, or I can hold you.”

  My eyes bulge at him like he’s insane. “You’re going to tie me up?”

  “It’s for your own good.”

  Clutching the covers to my body, I shake my head. “I promise I won’t run again. Believe me, I learned my lesson.”

  He hikes a shoulder. “I can’t be sure of that. Ropes or my arms?”

  Helplessly glancing around the space, I try to come up with any other option. I’d thought maybe Zander would sleep on the floor, not in bed with me. I guess I could still ask him to do that, but then I’d be stuck with my wrists tied.

  I don’t want to go through that again, to be shackled like merchandise. Just thinking about the auction earlier today makes my stomach turn.

  “Mae,” Zander says, softer now, tossing the ropes down like he hates the idea of me tied up just as much as I do. “I just want to be near you. I will not hurt you. I won’t… touch you inappropriately. That’s a promise. Your well-being is important to me.”

  I allow myself to believe him, and as my anxiety drains away, I think of the way he held me in the stream earlier. How good it felt.

  What he’s proposing now sounds innocent, but my mind takes it somewhere else. Legs tangled together. Bodies pressed close.

  My gaze roams his naked upper half, pausing on my favorite parts. The broad expanse of his muscular shoulders. His tight, brown nipples and the swells of his pecs. Every indent of his abs, plating his stomach like sculpted armor. That happy trail.

  Inside his pants, the distinct outline of his dick is obvious. His hard dick. The erection is prominent against his thigh, trapped inside the khaki material.

  Squirming, I try to quell the heat bursting in my core, but all I end up doing is making the cotton rub against my clit.

  As if Zander can sense what’s happening to me, the smirk playing at his lips broadens to a grin.

  I blush and look away.

  He can’t know how I’m feeling.

  Can he?

  I’ve got to get a handle on my whiplash-like attraction. Mixed signals much? I can’t insist that I want to leave him one second, accuse him of trying to rape me the next, then throw myself at him.

  “I—I don’t know if I can sleep with someone t-touching me,” I stammer. “I never have before.”

  “Why don’t we give it a try?” Zander drops a knee to the bed.

  “You’re going to keep your pants on, right?”

  “It would be the proper thing to do.”

  That’s not a yes or a no. Zander doesn’t strike me as the type who adheres to anything proper, but he lies down with his slacks where they should be. Facing me, he places his head on one of the pillows and uncurls his arm. It lays across the mattress, his hand reaching out. Waiting for me.

  “Look, I’m even on the outside of the covers.” Zander motions to the sheet that would separate us. “Your virtue will remain intact.”

  I don’t know any guy who could say that with a straight face, but Zander’s not joking.

  The Day Realm king doesn’t joke.

  Awkwardly, I roll toward him until he’s behind me. Just like I knew it would, Zander’s arm fits under my neck perfectly. I let out a squeak when he hooks his other arm around my torso and pulls until my body is flush with his.

  Keeping the covers around me like a chastity belt, I tuck them under me more snugly.

  And then I melt.

  All the tension leaves my body at the feel of Zander’s warmth behind me. Even if it doesn’t make sense, my system recognizes his nearness as a temporary reprieve from all the turmoil around me. The massive—multiple—adrenaline rushes from the day are finally catching up to me, and I’m ready to crash.

  Despite my claim about not being able to sleep with someone so close, I feel like I could drift off right now.

  Before slumber can claim me, I ask something that’s been nagging at me all day.

  “What did you make me say earlier today? At the ceremony? In English,” I specify.

  Zander’s deep voice takes on a husky quality when he replies, “From dawn ‘til dusk, from dusk ‘til dawn, I’ll never love another.”

  “That’s a pretty intense promise. What makes it magical? They’re just words.”

  “Here, every oath holds weight. Our souls reap consequences if we don’t follow through. It keeps us honest.”

  “Or manipulative.”

  “Yes, or that.” His fingers catch a wisp of my hair, and he starts curling it around his finger. “There’s history behind it. A legend. But it was so long ago, no one knows if the story is accurate.”

  “Most legends come from truth, even if they change over time,” I muse, getting more comfortable by the second. “Tell me.”

  “Yelissa and Conrad. It’s the tale of the first fated mates in Valora. Back then, there were no kings and queens—just tribes that often warred with each other. Yelissa was a peasant girl, born to one of the lowest ranking women in her tribe. From the moment of her birth, everyone could see her beauty. She was gorgeous beyond words, and she was kind, too. When she was a teenager, she caught the eye of the tribe’s leader and he swore he would have her for himself when she came of marrying age.”

  “But she didn’t love him,” I conclude, and Zander nods behind me.

  “During her gathering trips to the mountain, Yelissa became friends with a lone wizard. Every day when she was sent to collect herbs and other plants, they would meet. He’d do magic tricks and make her laugh. Conrad made her happy. By the time she was almost twenty-one, they were in love. They knew their time was running out and the leader would make her his wife, so the day before her birthday, she packed a bag and ran.”

  “This is going to end badly, isn’t it?”

  Instead of confirming, Zander continues, “The leader’s spies had been watching her, and they caught the lovers trying to flee. While the wizard had powerful magic, he couldn’t overcome them when they ambushed him with iron nets and chains. The leader speared him through the heart with an iron sword, which is fatal for faeries. The iron poisons the blood, and they end up with a slow and agonizing death. They left Conrad there, bleeding and broken in the spot where the couple had first met, and they let Yelissa stay with him so she would witness his suffering. Conrad urged Yelissa to keep running before the men came for her. He wanted her to live somewhere else, free of the tyranny of her tribe, but she refused to leave his side. Five days went by before death finally came to claim him, but before it did, he offered to use what was left of his magic for one last spell. There was an enchantment he could create to bind their souls, but it meant when he died, she would perish, too. She begged him to do it, because she couldn’t imagine living her life without him. And so he said those words—from dawn ‘til dusk, from dusk ‘til dawn, I’ll never love another. When she said them back, she breathed her last breath, and they died together, wrapped in each other’s arms.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “Fate recognized the tragic circumstances,” Zander goes on, “and took pity on them. The promise became bigger than Yelissa and Conrad. Never again would a fated pair be kept apart if they were lucky enough to find each other. They’d be able to recognize their other half as soon as they looked into one another’s eyes. Instantly, there was a wave of pairings all over the land. Even the leader, who inflicted the harsh punishment on Conrad, found his true match. Rival tribes had to come together because there were so many soul mates crossing over from one community to the next. Love won because of Yelissa and Conrad’s sacrifice.”

  The story is beautiful and tragic. Part of me hopes it’s not true, because why should some people have to suffer so badly for others to be happy?

  “The fated couples,” I begin. “You said all it took was one look for them to know if they belonged together?”

  “Yes. Fate made it easy. No dispute, no questions. Just confidence.”

  “Is that why our connection doesn’t seem real to me? Because you can’t see?”

  He grunts. “It wasn’t an issue for the other cursed kings.”

  I’m quiet for several seconds, then I say, “It should’ve been my choice to say those vows, Zander. You took that from me.”

  “I know.” Although he’s finally acknowledging his wrongdoing, he doesn’t sound sorry at all. Sleep is about to pull me under when he speaks again. “Maybe someday you’ll say it and mean it.”

  Zander

  Dawn is here, which means we’ll be interrupted at any moment. Astrid will arrive and, hopefully, I’ll get answers. She might even be able to do a spell and fix the rift between my mate and me. Whatever’s interrupting the bond needs to be repaired.

  I don’t like dealing with witches, but if I must, I’d rather it be Astrid. She assisted Kirian and Damon when they found their mates. Logic says she can do the same for me.

  As long as she’s willing, that is. I haven’t exactly been nice to her in the past. My prejudice against her kind is rooted deep because of my experiences. First, the coven who took my sight away. Then the wizard who gave me my shifting power. Both were inflictions I never wanted.

  Maelyn lets out a dreamy sigh, and I hold onto her a little tighter.

  I don’t regret the ultimatum I gave her last night. How could I when it worked out so well?

  She had to be tied to something, and she chose me.

  My presence must be calming because she hasn’t woken once. At some point, she turned in my arms to face me and snuggled closer throughout the night. Her hands are curled under her chin. Even though the blanket still separates us, her leg is hooked over mine.

  Every time a puff of air comes from her parted lips, it caresses the hollow of my throat, causing a ripple of pleasure to zing through my body.

  I barely slept a wink all night, because I wanted to soak up every moment of this. Despite how many times Maelyn has voiced her rejection, I’ve never been happier than I am right now.

  Unfortunately, even the best moments must end.

  Right on time, I hear the whine of the portal as it opens somewhere on the outskirts of camp.

  Ten seconds later, a raspy voice comes from outside the door flap. “Knock, knock. Better make yourselves decent before I come in.”

  “Do not enter,” I say quietly, hoping Maelyn will sleep a little longer.

  I want to consult with Astrid in private.

  Carefully removing my arm from under Maelyn’s head, I make sure the pillow is there to support her neck. When I slide my leg from between her ankles, the bond rebels at the loss of contact. My heart pounds against my sternum, causing a painful twinge in my chest.

  “Damn,” I whisper, rubbing the spot.

  It’s going to take me a while to get used to that.

  After grabbing one of my tank tops from the storage trunk, I pull it over my head and exit the tent.

  Outside, I sense several presences that weren’t here yesterday. Behind Astrid’s usual musty odor, I smell crisp night air, stardust, and autumn leaves.

  “King Kirian?” I say. “King Damon? You’re both here?”

  “And us, too,” Quinn speaks up.

  Whitley giggles at something Damon whispers in her ear.

 

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