He examined each of the masquerada around the table. The three men reflected his own wrath back at him. They loved Michaela, he realized as he registered the deep concern in Caro’s voice. Respected and loved her.
Fuck the Pharos.
“We didn’t lie when we came to you about Hiro’s death,” he began. “We may have neglected a few details.”
A ghost of a grin flickered across Eric’s face. “We know. You’re a good liar, fey, but we’re masquerada. We’re born to read others.”
Cormac would have laughed at the Hierarch’s firm confidence, so like Michaela’s, but he was too tense. He gave them a précis of the facts, including his role as Watcher.
Stephan groaned out loud at this. “I can’t believe Michaela agreed to that.”
“She had no choice,” Cormac said. “She’s the security chief for the Pharos Council.”
That was it. The secret was out. He waited for a response, but the four masquerada simply nodded as if he was confirming old information.
“You knew.”
Eric gave a well, yeah shrug. “We suspected. An individual of Michaela’s caliber was an obvious choice. Also, she would disappear for weeks with some flimsy excuse. Pharos needs better cover stories.”
“What about the mating?” asked Stephan, his gaze boring into Cormac.
Time for the other bombshell. “We weren’t mated then. That was Michaela’s excuse to get me into this council meeting.”
Eric’s gray eyes narrowed. “You said then.”
“I did.”
Eric dropped his face into his hands. “Fuck. Tell me she didn’t say it. Please.”
“Said what?” demanded Caro. She looked at Stephan and Tom, who gave her confused shrugs. “Said what, Eric?”
Eric pointed at Cormac. “Better ask Michaela’s new mate.”
“She said we were mated.” Cormac pulled down the collar of his shirt to show the edge of the sigil. “We are now mated.”
Caro’s huge brown eyes grew round. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.”
“She says you’re mated and that’s it.” Caro shook her head. “You’re lying.”
“The fey don’t approach mating lightly. To us, the words have meaning.”
“Oh my God.” Caro blanched. “Does she know?”
“Do you think she would have said it had she known?” Known that those words would doom both of them?
There was silence around the table as they all absorbed this. From the expressions on the faces of the people who knew her best, Cormac gathered his new mate had not been in the market for a life-partner.
“The poison must have messed with her mind for her to even say such a thing, especially given her history,” Stephan said firmly.
“Her history?” Was she already mated? Cormac wasn’t even sure what would happen then. Would their link be done? Ignored? A surge of hope shot through him.
Stephan glanced at Caro, who said, “Michaela has been married before—”
“Married?” Could this entire issue be put to rest on a technicality? It was impossible for a mated fey to mate again. Perhaps, because Michaela was a masquerada, this had gone unnoticed.
“—though she isn’t now.” Caro finished. “You need to give her an out.”
Shite. They were still stuck. “I agree, and I would never force her in an unwanted mating if I had a choice.” Like she had with him. No. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t do it deliberately. Remember that before he started hating her. “But there’s no going back. My forest has blessed the union. We’re mated.”
A moment of silence as they all considered how Michaela would react to this news. Eric shook his head. “Incredibly, you stealing away one of the most powerful women in my nation and the shitshow that will occur when you tell her is the least of my worries. Who poisoned her?”
Cormac’s heart thumped when he remembered Michaela’s white, still face. “It could be any of the Pharos, if your analysis of the poison is right. How easy is it to obtain?”
“Since we just discovered its existence, I’d say difficult,” Tom said.
“We need to get to the bottom of this,” Eric said. “Will you accept our help? I know it’s a Pharos issue but by attacking Michaela we now have a stake in this.”
“Yes.” Cormac didn’t even hesitate. She was his mate, for all the trouble that it was, and worthy of his respect. “Fuck Pharos anyway. I’m taking her away to recover, away from any danger.”
Eric didn’t bother to ask where. “Keep in touch.” Then he smiled. “Good luck with your mate.”
His mate. A hot spike of pleasure pulsed out from the brand, quickly followed by a rush of fury. His mate. His killer.
Cormac nodded and left.
Chapter 19
This was a hell of a hangover. Michaela groaned and coughed, cursing inwardly as the slight movement made her head pound. She was going to have to control her drinking as Yuri. This was agony. She opened her eyes then squinted them shut again. Even the dim light in the room was like a searchlight pointed directly through her pupils and into her brain.
A cool hand lay briefly on her forehead, then stroked her hair back. “You need to drink this.”
Her eyes flew open. “Cormac?” Her throat was dry and raspy.
“Drink first and then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
A cool glass touched her dry lips and she drank reluctantly, then gulped it down. The liquid was sweet but not cloying. “What…”
“You were poisoned. Liquid minera. Eric’s medics stabilized you and I brought you to my tree to recover.”
Poisoned. Tree. Michaela wondered if she was hallucinating. Cormac pressed another glass into her hand and she drank greedily, propping herself up on one shoulder. When she put the empty glass down with a sigh, she let herself relax against the pillow again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He sounded stiff, but it was hard for her to think analytically. No doubt he was uncomfortable she was in his space, the same way she felt when he was in her apartment.
“Tell me all that again. I think I misheard you say, ‘It’s a hangover.’ ” Obviously she wasn’t in a tree. The room was huge.
He spoke so slowly she would have thought it was an insult had she not had trouble following it. It was too surreal. “You collapsed during the masquerada council meeting. Eric’s medics identified it as liquid minera mixed with some other elements to create a poison they haven’t seen before. I took you to my tree to heal.”
His tree. She couldn’t believe so much weirdness was going on that being in bed inside a tree felt normal. There would be time later to go into what rules of physics and perception had been altered to let that happen. “Why? Why didn’t you leave me with Eric?”
His eyes burned green and there was a strange tug near her heart, like a healing scar. She glanced down but Cormac grabbed her hand. “I wouldn’t.”
She tossed his hand away. He hadn’t told her everything. “Tell me.”
“I told Eric you were Pharos.”
She squinted at him. Cormac wasn’t looking directly at her. She pulled herself together, shifted into Yuri, and leaned her hulking form forward.
“Feyman.” Her voice was deep, rough and impatient. “Do not fuck with me.”
“We’re mated.”
Michaela felt Yuri disappear as she laughed, then groaned as her head pounded. “No, I only said we were mated. I remember that. I apologized.” An awkward situation, but at least being near death had taken some of the sting away. She cheered slightly knowing that she had a ready-made excuse in being near collapse when she’d said such a senseless thing.
Mates. With Cormac. Preposterous. She’d been married enough to last lifetimes. Certainly he was gorgeous, but mating required more than physical craving, no matter how intense it w
as. After so many years with those walls over her heart she didn’t know if it was possible to break them down even if she wanted to. Not that she would. Love caused too much pain, and all she was willing to risk she had given to Ivy.
He didn’t flinch but she could feel his repressed anger. “Now is probably the time to look at that itchy spot over your heart.”
How did he know it was over her heart? The question died on her lips the moment she pulled her shirt open and saw a strange black blotch on her skin.
“Oh. My. God. What is that?” Was this an aftereffect of the poison? She looked up to see Cormac pull his shirt over his head. While part of her ogled the perfection of his musculature, the more with-it section of her head zeroed in on a matching design on his chest.
“We’re mated.” His expression said nothing, but she sensed his disquiet and that made her even more tense.
“You didn’t answer the question. I didn’t ask if we were mated. I asked what the hell it is.” Michaela prevented herself from shifting into Yuri again, even though her take-no-prisoners masque would be better able to deal with this than her natural self. Yuri would have the guts to take a knife and cut that damn thing out of his flesh.
Cormac traced his design with gentle fingers, and she noticed that it was intricately constructed. It drew her in as if he was touching her own skin. “It’s our mating brand. Our sigil.”
Her jaw dropped. “You branded me? Like cattle?”
For a moment, his temper flashed. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one walking around with a surprise tattoo stamped onto their skin and a brand-new partner for life.”
Michaela gaped in horror. She’d been so caught up in herself she hadn’t thought about what Cormac had gone through. A mating bond went two ways. They were shackled together. “What have I done?” she whispered.
He burst out laughing. “Don’t look so tragic,” he said flippantly as he yanked his shirt back on. That stupid, non-thinking part of her brain sighed in disappointment to see that splendid flesh disappear.
Unable to have this conversation lying down, she struggled up until she sat cross-legged on the bed. “I said we were mates, but there was no ceremony. You didn’t say a thing. You didn’t even say yes.”
The crooked smile he gave her took away some of her fear. No, concern. Uneasiness. Never fear. She was Chui Miaoling, no, she was Michaela, and she was not a woman who allowed herself to be frightened, at least not for non-life-threatening situations. “I didn’t have to. The fey mating ritual is simple. One of you says you’re mates. That’s it.”
“Wait a minute.” The sheer injustice of such a system cut through her incredulity. “That’s it? One of you declares it? What if you don’t want to be mated?”
“Penalties for forcing a mate are severe. Death for you and your family, and your forest is confiscated by the queen.”
The rational part of her was slightly soothed by this, but… “I still did it though, and you can’t take any revenge on me. I have no family and no forest.” Wait a minute. “I’m not even fey.”
“The union also has to be blessed by my forest. If my forest thought you would be a poor match for it, it would not have allowed the mating.”
“You trust your forest.”
“Yes.” It was a simple declaration. “If Yetting Hill says you are a worthy mate, you are.”
“For you. What about you for me?”
He shrugged. “I guess it figures you’d be sure I was a good match before you announced we were mates. It’s a forest, not an omnipotent god. Look, I know it’s a lot to absorb, but you need your rest.”
Rest? Like she was a bloody invalid? When there was a killer on the loose at Pharos and Frieda Hanver was back? When someone tried to kill her? She wasn’t sure if it was a relief to know Hiro had probably been killed because of her, and it still didn’t answer why the hell he was in her office. It was all a blur. She threw the crisp covers aside and moaned as she saw stars. Cormac pushed her back on the pillow. “No.”
“Yes.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lost cause. She could barely move. That poisoner had done a real number on her, and she probably hadn’t helped things by taking on a masque.
“Eric and I agree that your priority is to convalesce. He’s going to work on it from the other side.”
“I am so glad you two men decided what I should do.”
“It was Caro’s idea. She was worried about you overextending yourself.”
Damn Caro. Michaela had another wave of dizziness. Cormac laid a cool hand on her cheek, and she was oddly soothed.
Then her heart spiked. Mates? What did that mean?
“We’ll talk later.” His voice was a promise and almost against her will, Michaela found her eyes closing.
Mates.
Chapter 20
Cormac watched Michaela rest. All in all, the conversation had gone better than he had anticipated, and he congratulated himself on getting the shock of it over while she was still woozy from being poisoned.
Not the noblest of sentiments, but times were hard. He paced around his tree. Avoiding touching his new mating sigil, he pulled up his pendant and assessed the leaf. Had the brown expanded? The edges looked darker.
Maybe it was paranoia.
At least he had remained calm. He’d also not mentioned that she’d sentenced them to inevitable death once Tismelda found out what had happened, if Tismelda didn’t have his tree cut down or order their executions simply out of spite. His only hope was that she wouldn’t find out. No one had witnessed it happening, after all, and he wasn’t about to send any announcements. This was cheering. He had a good chance of keeping it secret and avoiding the queen’s rage.
Don’t be an idiot. She would know. The queen’s spy web—centered on Rendell—was thorough.
There was no point dwelling on this. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t repudiate his mate. In fact, even as he mulled over the problems, he felt a pull towards Michaela, one that rendered him almost incapable of anything but protection.
He sat in a chair beside his sleeping mate and pulled out the messages from Hiro’s mobile phone. Although he had faith in Eric’s team, it was killing him to simply wait for them to find answers about Michaela’s poisoner. He’d sent a message to Madden under Michaela’s name—he’d have to deal with that when she woke up, damn it—telling him that she had been taken ill. The flurry of subsequent demanding texts had gone unanswered.
The poisoning had also forced him to re-evaluate Hiro’s death. If he had any doubts that Michaela had been the original target, they were now gone.
Michaela sniffed and curled up on her side. She was small under the white covers and so pallid she almost blended with the sheets. He leaned over and tucked her in, then smoothed her hair back.
His mate. What did that even mean? He stared down at her, the lashes a long dark slash across her high cheekbones. He was mated to a masquerada. She’d turned into that hulk of man only minutes before. Then he sighed. Dealing with Yuri was still a thousand times better than the idea of having to explain what happened to the queen and beg for his forest back. He shuddered.
Begging.
Him.
He’d never begged for a thing in his life.
It was time to focus on tangible problems, like the messages on Hiro’s phone. Returning to his work, he let himself be absorbed by the messages. Hiro’s skin had been removed in the same place as the marks on the dead humans in the insubordinate masquerada dens. Eric had mentioned the Dawning in the meeting, and it was logical to assume Frieda Hanver was directing whatever was happening to those humans. The Dawning might want to make slaves of humanity, but Hiro wouldn’t be the first collaborator to sell out his people for the right price.
By the time he shook out his hand, sore from writing notes, he had a good idea of what Hiro had been up to. It wa
s as he feared. Hiro had shared information from Pharos with the Dawning. Several messages referenced an individual referred to as Three, who seemed to be at a higher level to Hiro and directing him. Cormac would have rolled his eyes at the pathetic cloak-and-dagger aspect of this had he not lived through his own war. The anticipation of battle seemed to bring out the most juvenile aspects of arcane groups as well as humans.
He propped his feet up on a low table and considered this. While they were waiting for the medics to stabilize Michaela, Eric had elaborated on Frieda Hanver.
“She’s smart and cunning,” Eric had said. “More than that, she’s tapped into a vein of hatred that we’ve known existed but perhaps had underestimated.”
“Against humanity.”
“Even when we lived openly with humans, there were factions in all arcane groups who felt humans were not worthy equals.”
Cormac had nodded. “That they were unevolved.”
“Throwbacks, yeah.” Eric had pinched the bridge of his nose, the universal sign for fending off a bitch of a headache. “We need more intel on what she’s planning, and I’m going to get it.”
The mysterious Three could be Frieda, but she had been also referred to by name in the texts. He ruffled through them again. Another collaborator? A spy? Yangzei? Might as well get a wild card Ancient prancing through this mess to make it fun.
Brother.
After a quick look at Michaela, who slept with a slight frown on her face, as though she was even in her sleep thinking of ways to void their mating, Cormac went out to the clearing in front of his tree. The misty outline of a tall woman turned to him, panic in every line of her body.
“Isindle?”
“Cormac, what have you done?” His sister was nearly in tears. “The entire forest shook. Your tree is in white flower it’s so happy. The queen is furious.”
Shite. “I have a mate.” He said this as proudly as he could. It might have been a mistake, and he might be personally furious, but he would not let others think he felt anything but confidence in the match.
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