by Sophie Oak
the women they had grown up with. Meg wouldn’t want to be a
perfect little princess on a shiny throne. She needed to work. She
needed to contribute. She needed to be valued for all the things that
made her unique.
“T à mo chroì istigh ionat,” he whispered. My heart is within you…
He was just about to kiss his sleeping princess when he heard a
knock at the door. Curious, Cian gently rolled away from his wife. He
reached for a shirt and walked to the front of the house.
A small brown woman was gingerly opening the door. She was
dressed simply in a dark, threadbare skirt and linen shirt, with a
colorful shawl around her thin shoulders. Her big feet were bare. Her
head was a mass of scraggly, wiry hair and her own thick skin. Her
eyes were huge in her small face and black as a moonless night. She
was beautiful to him. Flanna was a brownie. The brownies had been
domestic help on his home plane.
“Beckett.” She squinted, turning her elderly eyes up at him. He
immediately got to one knee so she could inspect him. She had been
his nanny throughout his childhood. It hadn’t taken him long to get
taller than the brownie who took care of him, but he always showed
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her proper respect. His throat closed up at the thought that he hadn’t
really seen her for years. She walked up to him with a smile that
showed her gaping teeth. “I am glad you changed your mind, son. It’s
a mistake to leave your wife alone right now.”
“She isn’t alone, Flanna,” Cian said, emotion welling in his heart.
“She has me.”
Flanna’s jaw dropped, and she looked at him with wonder.
“Cian?”
“Yes, little mother,” Cian said. “I assure you, it’s me. How long
was I gone?”
Huge tears welled in her black eyes. “Years, Cian,” she confirmed
as she drew him into her motherly embrace. “I thought you would die
soon.”
“I did, too.” He hugged her gently, taking great care with her
fragile body. “I am so sorry, little mother. I got lost.”
Tears coursed over her cheeks. “Where is she? Where is the
Queen?”
Cian smiled broadly and wondered if anyone had even mentioned
that part to Meg yet. He doubted she knew she had become the true
Queen of the Seelie Fae. “She’s asleep. The bonding was hard on her.
From what I can tell, everything’s been hard on my Meg, including
Beck. You should know, little mother, I intend to thrash him soundly
when he returns.”
Her foot started tapping. “That will be the day, Cian. I think
you’ve forgotten which twin you are if you think to fight your
brother.”
Cian let his face split into a slightly shady grin. “Well, I didn’t
intend to inform him of my plans to beat him. I assure you, I can have
him unconscious and tied up in no time at all. He always
underestimates me.”
Flanna gave him “the stare.” It was the one that let Cian know he
was in trouble. “Now is not the time to be feuding with your brother.”
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Cian frowned. “You don’t know how he treated her. He’s been
selfish and rude. He formed a bond with her, but from what I can tell,
he didn’t actually offer himself. He surely didn’t open to her. She was
shocked by the full bond. She hadn’t felt it before.”
Cian got to his feet, a new purpose humming through his brain.
He’d hidden something, and now he hoped it had survived the years.
Flanna followed him into the kitchen. “Don’t be so hard on your
brother. He’s only done what he had to do to survive. Your father was
very hard on him.”
“And he has a lot of responsibility, blah, blah, blah,” Cian said
with a frown. He studied the drawers in the hutch. He had built it with
his own hands, and he had put a hidey-hole in it. “You think I haven’t
heard this all my life, little mother? ‘Allowances must be made for the
warrior king.’ All I had to do was think and learn, but Beck had to
fight. Father was particularly hard on Beck, so we should let him be a
cold bastard? I won’t let him ruin my relationship with our wife.
She’s everything I could want in a woman. If he’s too stupid to see
that, then he’s welcome to keep to the Liadans of this plane.”
There was something about Liadan. There was something about
the blonde woman his brother had taken as his mistress that nagged at
the back of his brain. He couldn’t quite grasp it. It didn’t matter. He
needed to worry about Meg now. Cian pulled the left drawer out and
carefully pushed his hand inside. He felt for the trap door at the back.
It sprang free, and Cian felt his treasure.
“You can’t kick your brother out of your marital bed,” Flanna was
insisting. “You know that the three of you will never form a triad if
you don’t open yourselves to each other.”
Cian pulled his hand free and opened the small bag he had
retrieved. “The triad is a myth. I’m not going to develop mystical
powers from sleeping with my wife. I feel wonderful, I do, and I’m
definitely looking forward to consummating my marriage. I promise
I’ll work my hardest to ensure you have some babies to take care of
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next year, but I won’t become a Green Man, and Beck won’t be a
Storm Lord.”
“Just because you don’t have faith doesn’t mean others don’t,”
Flanna said with a superior look in her eyes. “Tell me something,
Your Highness, what does this mean for the rest of us?”
Cian pulled out a small gold ring. There was a sun on the signet. It
was the symbol of the Queen. Bronwyn had pressed it into his hand as
she lay dying. His sister had died trying to retrieve the ring from their
mother’s rooms. It was all he had left of their mother, and now it
belonged to the rightful Queen, his wife. “It means we have some
decisions to make. I’m sure even now our aunt is trying to convince
her daughter to start funneling money our way. We’ll need it if we’re
going to bribe the Unseelie to back us.”
Cian didn’t want to talk politics. He had more important things to
do. He turned the bag over. The rest of the contents tumbled to the
table, making a delightful clinking sound. He did a quick count and
was well-pleased. Flanna reached out and slapped his hands.
“You’ve been keeping money from your brother,” she accused.
Cian shrugged. There was no point in denying it. “He would have
spent it on something boring, like food. This was my drinking stash.
Now, it’s my get-my-wife-dressed-properly stash. Do you think you
can come up with something nice for this?”
Flanna seemed placated that he was using the cash on Meg instead
of at the tavern. “I happen to know that the dressmaker in the village
is almost done with a beautiful gown for Liadan. I believe she was
planning on wearing it to Beltain. It would have to be shortened from
what I understand, but I’m sure she would alter it for he
r queen.”
Cian smiled. If it pissed off Liadan, then so much the better.
“Excellent. I’ll take it. Tell the seamstress to let out the bodice as
well. My Meg’s got a lovely set of breasts on her. And Flanna, we
should prepare the village for the influx of Fae coming to pay their
respects to my Queen.”
“But, Ci, Beck told me to keep her presence here quiet.”
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Cian’s eyes narrowed as he formed a plan. “Beck wouldn’t be
able to contain the rumors. He either bought her or he fought for her.”
“It was an open tourney,” Flanna confirmed.
“Then the vampires know about it, too. They’ll think there’s
something wrong with her. They’ll think that the king is ashamed he
had to take a human wife if he doesn’t demand proper respect be
paid.”
“That isn’t why he’s keeping it quiet,” Flanna corrected him.
“Beck is worried about your uncle’s agents. The pretender closed Tir
na nÒg because he’s worried Beck will steal onto the plane and
assassinate him. He has been waiting for the two of you to fade. After
you’re gone, he’ll be able to open the homelands and reestablish trade
and contact. You can’t think Torin wants the borders closed. He’ll be
furious when he discovers you’ve married. The queen is now a
target.”
Cian shook his head. “She’ll be a target no matter what. I’m sure
Torin knows about her even now. I have no illusions on that. He has
his spies as we have ours. It doesn’t change the fact that she will have
a hard time being taken seriously if we don’t treat her that way. The
people will accept my queen, or I’ll cease being their king. Well, I’ll
cease being half their king, anyway.”
Flanna patted his hand, seemingly giving up the fight. “I will go
and get things started. The village will feast tonight, my son.”
“Yes.” Cian looked at his mother’s ring with satisfaction. “We
will feast and dance and drink.” And then he would set about
seducing his lovely, brave bride.
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Chapter Twelve
Beck stood looking out the window on the hundred and second
floor of the Dellacorp building. This was the penthouse his aunt lived
in, and it always made him nervous to be so high in a non-natural
structure. Below, the neon lights of the city gave the night an ethereal
quality. It was an odd sight, and one he wished he could share with
his wife. Meg would be fascinated by this world. She would likely
enjoy the ridiculous lights and soaring heights the vampires lived in.
It gave Beck a stomachache, but it might be worth it if Meg liked it.
He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk that she could run here and
probably find someone to hide her. Probably? He shook his head
ruefully. She would have no end of handsome vampires willing to
save her from her marriage. She was a beautiful bondmate, and they
would consider her a perfect consort. She would have vampires
fighting over the privilege of who got to save her from her husband.
“You are brooding, Beck.” His aunt’s voice cut through his
thoughts and pulled him into the present. He turned and looked at his
mother’s sister. She was graceful and lovely, just as his mother had
been. Her perfectly black hair was in a neat knot at the nape of her
neck. “I think sometimes you forget which half you are. You are a
man of action. Leave the brooding to Cian.” Alana Dellacorp’s face
fell as she remembered. “I am so sorry. I should not have said that.”
Beck smiled tightly at his aunt. “It’s all right. I wasn’t brooding.
Well, maybe I was. I was thinking about my wife.”
He held himself still, watching for her reaction. He had asked
Dante to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to tell his aunt himself.
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Her elegant face became a mask of well-bred horror. “Tell me you
haven’t married that Liadan person. Oh, Beck. You cannot give up
hope. Annul the marriage. I will find a way to smuggle a bondmate
out of Tir na nÒg . Your Uncle Alex and Susie already have feelers
out looking for the best way to do it. We have confirmation that
Torin, the bastard, is making deals with other vampire families to sell
them consorts. Obviously he would never make a deal with the
Dellacourts, but we have plans.”
Beck took his aunt’s hand. She was a slave to fashion, as always,
and her nails were painted an emerald green with small jewels on the
tips. It was the fashion for consorts. “Tell them to stop. I’m not about
to…what was the term Meg used…divorce my wife, though she
might beat me when I return home. As for Cian, I spoke to him not
thirty minutes ago on that contraption your son left with our wife.
He’s perfectly clear-headed and more like himself than he has been in
years. He’s just as pissed with me as Meg must be, though he’s trying
to hide it, the tricky bastard. I’ll have to watch my step when I get
home or he’ll jump me.”
Alana gasped as she understood the implications. Before she
could say a thing, a bundle of feminine energy burst into the room and
ran straight for Beck. Beck braced himself for impact and wasn’t
disappointed. Susan Dellacourt threw herself into his arms with a
resounding thud.
“Beck! I can’t believe it.” His cousin looked up at him with joyful
tears in her eyes. “You bonded! We all thought we were going to lose
you. It’s fate. I know it is.”
“You’ll have to excuse my wife, Your Highness,” Colin
O’Donnell Dellacourt said with an indulgent smile. He bowed
formally to his king. Beckett recognized the sidhe. He had been one
of the many refugees to make it out of Tir na nÒg before the plane
was closed. Unlike most of the Fae, Colin had settled on the Vampire
plane and quickly found himself in the enviable position of consort.
“She’s been worried about you and Cian for a very long time. She
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talks about you all the time. I’ve heard more stories about your
childhood than I can imagine.”
Colin was dressed in typical vampire attire. He was casual but
elegant in slacks and a pearl-gray dress shirt. He had come a long way
from a farm in Tir na nÒg.
“Well, I remember when she was just a wee thing, and I used to
pull her pigtails,” Beck said, giving his cousin a squeeze. He often
didn’t understand his vampire relatives, but he loved them.
Susan shook her head and planted a kiss on her cousin’s cheek as
she noted her brother walking into the room. “That was Ci, dear. You
were always too serious to play.” She squeezed his hand. “Why didn’t
you bring your new wife and Ci with you? Everyone will be dying to
meet her, and I would love to talk to Cian when I don’t have to
remind him who I am every five minutes.”
“You aren’t the only one, sis. He was completely loony when I
left. Bonkers. It’s funny now, of course, but at the time, I was
concerned.” Dante shrugged Beck’s way. “Well, you told me to keep
my mouth shut around Mother. You said nothing at all about Susan.
Come on, man, she’s my boss and my older sister. I gotta have
something on her.”
“How can you consider me your boss?” Susan asked with a roll of
her emerald eyes. Beck heard Colin snort and realized this was a well-
worn argument. Even Alana sighed. “You never show up for work.
You’re always out gallivanting around. Sometimes I wonder if the
tabloids would have anything to do if Dante Dellacourt wasn’t around
to give them a headline every day.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Well, we can’t all be perfect CEOs and
perfect spouses and perfect daughters. Some of us prefer to have a
life.”
“How can you call that a life?” Susan mocked her baby brother.
“You drink and go out with a new model every night. That isn’t a life.
It’s a blood disease waiting to happen. I don’t even want to know
where your fangs have been, brother.”
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“Susan!” Alexander Dellacourt’s voice boomed through the great
room as he entered. Beck tried to hide his smile. His uncle was a bit
larger than life. “Give your brother a break. He is a young man
finding his blood. So what if he’s a little wild? He’ll fall in love and
settle down one of these days. You have to be patient with him.”
Dante’s green eyes were suspiciously innocent as he poured
himself a Scotch. Vampires might not eat the way the Fae did, but
they could drink. “Father is right, Susie. I drown myself in booze and
loose women to hide the pain in my heart from not finding true love.
It could be that my tale ends tragically, sister. I fell madly in love with a beautiful consort, and Beck stole her from me. I suppose I will have
to find something that will make me feel better. Perhaps a Ferrari. It
won’t fill the hole in my heart, but I have to make do.”
Alex rolled his eyes and readjusted his Stetson. “Don’t push it,
son. I’m not a fool. I started with next to nothing.”
Dante’s eyes glazed over. His mouth moved in time with his
father’s. He had obviously heard the tale about a million times, but
then, so had Beck.
“Just a hundred head of cattle and a dream,” Alex was saying as