Tithed to the Fae: Fae Mates - Book 1

by Chant, Zoe

  “Motley fetched him from the human world for me. And Angus is a Pomeranian, not a creature.” The woman held out the demonic fluff ball for his inspection. “He’s my dog.”

  Cuan stared at the creature. ‘Dog’ was not the first word that sprang to mind. If pressed, he might have guessed that it was an unholy cross between a crocodile and a fox. Or possibly that it was the physical manifestation of pure primordial chaos. With teeth.

  If this was what passed for a hound in the human realm, it was an even more dark and terrible place than he’d ever thought.

  “You can come down from there,” the woman added, glancing up at him. “Angus is all bark and no bite. Well. Mostly. Anyway, he won’t hurt you.”

  Angus fixed Cuan with a glare that clearly stated: I will rip out your innards and feast on your liver.

  Nonetheless, Cuan released his swords, allowing the blades to dissolve back into the ether. His lady was fond of the horrifying beast, and it seemed to be a loyal—not to mention effective—guardian. He would just have to live with it. And invest in an armored codpiece.

  He descended from his impromptu defensive fort, keeping a wary eye on the creature. “You met Motley?”

  The woman nodded, still hugging the growling Angus. “He turned up after you passed out. He’s the one who fetched the healer. Aodhan.”

  “Ah. That explains things.” Cuan offered her a wry smile, gesturing at his side. “I was wondering why I’d woken up alive.”

  The woman’s eyes flicked down his torso. She cleared her throat, gaze jerking up to his face. “Um, maybe you should put a shirt on?”

  She was concerned for his comfort? It was only the slightest hint of sentiment, yet it kindled a flicker of hope within his heart. Perhaps she was starting to see him as more than an unwanted captor.

  “I thank you for your concern, but I am not cold.” It belatedly occurred to him that she might be chilled. “Are you not comfortable, my lady? You could warm yourself in my bed furs while I build up the fire.”

  “Oh, things are hot enough around here already,” she muttered, sounding like she was talking to herself. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, as though he was an opponent in a duel. “But I’ll feel a lot more comfortable if you cover up.”

  Puzzled, he glanced down at himself, wondering if perhaps he was still smeared in unpleasant bodily fluids. He could see nothing untoward about his appearance. Which made him wonder why he wasn’t plastered with his own blood.

  A faint echo of his dream stirred at the back of his mind. “Did you…wash me?”

  The warm flush to her cheeks deepened. She spun on her heel, putting her back to him. “Look, just put something on. Anything. Please.”

  This abruptly seemed like an excellent idea. His imagination was supplying an all-too-clear vision of her soft hands running over his skin, and his leather trousers were very close fitting.

  Down, he commanded his eager body, gritting his teeth.

  He had to remember that she’d been torn from her home and thrown into a strange new place. And as if that wasn’t enough, she had seen him in animal form, savage and slavering. Displaying bestial urges in front of her wouldn’t help to win her trust.

  He pulled a fresh tunic over his head, tugging it down. “My sincere apologies, my lady. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. Is this better?”

  She nodded, although for some peculiar reason her eyes kept drifting to his biceps. “It’ll, uh, have to do. I’m Tamsin, by the way.”

  “Tamsin,” he repeated, savoring the music of her name. “Tamsin. It is my honor. I am Cuan, unseelie high sidhe sworn to the court of Lady Maeve.”

  “I know.” She bit her lip. “Listen, Cuan. Aodhan said that there’s some kind of spell on me, that means I’ll die if I go back home. Is that true?”

  “Unlike Aodhan, I am no scholar of magic. But as far as I know…yes. Tithing is an ancient and powerful ritual. You are bound to our realm now.”

  Angus was struggling in Tamsin’s arms, small paws scrabbling for freedom. Tamsin bent to release her pet, and Cuan braced himself—but the fluffy orange terror didn’t immediately lunge for his tenderest parts. The dog did, however, give his groin a narrow-eyed, lingering stare before trotting off to sniff at the discarded bed covers. Cuan had an uneasy certainty that the animal was waiting for his guard to drop. And that it was very, very patient.

  Tamsin’s eyes followed her pet as it nosed around the room, but Cuan had a sense that her thoughts were elsewhere. She hugged herself, hands rubbing at her arms as though cold. The worry weighing down the corners of her mouth made his heart hurt. He would have traded away his own soul to see her smile.

  He sought for comforting words, since he had no magic to ease her troubled mind. “I know that this is all strange and new to you now, but I promise, in time you will wonder how you could ever have lived anywhere else. The fae realms offer far more wonders than your ugly human world. This is a blessing, not a curse.”

  She shook her head in a sharp arc of denial. “Can you undo it? The tithe magic, I mean. That elf woman gave me to you. Does that mean you can set me free?”

  “I am sorry. I cannot.”

  Tamsin’s dark brown eyes narrowed. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Truly, it is not within my power. I would not even know where to begin.” There was no point trying to hide his nature from her; she’d already seen his hound and horse shapes, if not his repulsive true form. “Perhaps a true high sidhe could unravel the magics that bind you, but I am a half-blood. My father was a phouka.”

  Her eyebrows drew down further. “I know phouka from my granny’s tales. They’re a type of faerie shapeshifter, right?”

  “Correct. A true phouka can take many forms, but I myself am limited to horse and hound. And just as my wild fae magic is weakened by my mixed blood, my high sidhe powers are also woefully inadequate. I cannot cut the curse that binds you. I cannot set you free.”

  She was still regarding him with that uncomfortably penetrating look. “If you could…would you?”

  He opened his mouth to say yes, of course—and the words stuck in his throat. Despite the taint of his phouka father, he was high sidhe. And high sidhe couldn’t lie. Dance around the truth, yes, distract and dazzle…but not lie.

  And he didn’t know if he could have let her go.

  “It is of no matter,” he said instead. “Since I cannot do it anyway. But what I can do, my lady, is promise to serve you in all ways. I may not be able to release you, but I swear that I shall keep you safe, and do my utmost to ensure that you are happy here. I know that your first impressions of the unseelie court were not, ah, entirely auspicious, but you will come to appreciate its charms in time.”

  “Oh, I’m appreciating them, all right,” Tamsin muttered, eying him. She grimaced, scrunching up her nose. “Look, can you please turn that off?”

  He looked around in confusion, then down at himself. “Turn what off?”

  “That.” She made a vague, annoyed gesture that encompassed his entire body. “The…magic sex thing.”

  Magic sex thing?

  “You think I’m glamouring you?” he ventured.

  “Yes, that. I know all the old stories about fae. I know how your kind can mess with people’s heads. I felt it myself, back when I first arrived.” She folded her arms. “I don’t like being manipulated. If you want me to trust you, then stop trying to magic me into wanting to ride you like a pony.”

  She found him attractive? To the point of thinking that he was toying with her mind?

  He spread his hands, fighting down a wholly inappropriate urge to whoop and punch the air. “On my honor, I am not glamouring you.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you look like that naturally, do you?”

  Once again, the truth tangled his tongue. Because of course he didn’t.

  He was using glamour…just not on her.

  “I swear on the Shining Ones, I am not manipulating your emotions,” he said, picking his
words with care. “As I said, I am only half high sidhe. My glamours are limited to trivial visual illusions. I cannot cast a false allure over you, nor influence your mind in any way.”

  Tamsin rubbed her forehead. “And I guess I just have to take your word on that, huh?”

  There was a way he could prove it…and he definitely was not going to suggest it. He could only hope that the stories she knew of his people did not mention their greatest weakness.

  “I am high sidhe enough that I cannot tell a direct falsehood,” he said instead. “You said you had heard tales of the fae. Did they include that fact?”

  She still looked dubious, but she nodded. “We have a lot of stories about your kind, though. Most of them made up. At least, I assume you’re not about to sprout cute little butterfly wings and perch on a toadstool.”

  He snorted at the mental image. “Humans have forgotten much if that is what they think of the fae.”

  “Blame the Victorians. And Walt Disney.” Tamsin shook her head, blowing out her breath. “So much for sweet little faeries. You are definitely not Tinkerbell.”

  Her manner of speech was as enchanting as it was baffling. “This is a bad thing?”

  Her gaze flicked over his body again, lingering on his shoulders. “I’m not complaining. At least, not as long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

  “I am not a beast!” He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to lower to civilized tones again. She could hardly be blamed for thinking such a terrible thing, given that she had seen him snarling on all fours. “I am not a beast. I am fae, and we respect the goddess in all women. No one in this realm will touch you in that way against your will. That, at least, you need not fear.”

  Some of the tension went out of her body. “Then what am I doing here? Why are you all so hot for humans? I saw the crowd yesterday. They were all looking at me like they wanted to eat me.”

  “They did.” As her eyes widened, he added hastily, “Not your literal flesh, though there are types of wild fae who would. But for the high sidhe, it is your passions that fascinate us. Your kind feel things so strongly, so intensely. The seelie high sidhe sometimes steal human artists, prizing their ability to make us see the world as you do. But we of the unseelie favor a more…direct way to sample human emotions.”

  Tamsin’s throat worked. “Oh. Wow. Okay. Disney films never featured vampire faeries.”

  “They would not. It is your psychic essence that Lady Maeve and her court would drink, not your physical blood.”

  He wondered whether he should stop there, shielding her from the grim details. But even from the little he knew of her, it was clear that she was a woman of bravery and determination. To attempt to hide the dangers she faced would be an insult to her warrior’s soul.

  “The court would make sport with you,” he continued, striving to keep his voice level. “Mock you, taunt you, uncover your weaknesses and destroy your sense of worth. That is how they capture the most treasured flavors; humiliation, despair, the bitterness of self-hatred. Little by little, drop by drop. Until they had drained you to the very dregs, leaving nothing but a hollow-eyed shell that breathes and walks, but can no longer feel anything at all.”

  Tamsin’s pet was rubbing against her ankles again, whining, as though able to sense her distress. She picked up the little creature, pressing her cheek against its soft fur. Cuan wished that he could hold her as she held her dog; close against his chest, heart to heart, giving and receiving comfort.

  But it was not his place. He dropped to one knee in a formal posture of fealty instead, in the manner of a knight swearing an oath to his lady. “I shall not let it happen, Tamsin. On my blood and breath, I will keep you safe.”

  Tamsin’s teeth worried at her bottom lip. “Would you run away with me? Even if I can’t go back to my own world until we work out a way to undo the curse, there must be somewhere in fairyland that we could hide.”

  “I would spirit you away this moment, if there was somewhere I could take you.” He’d been racking his mind on this very point, trying to think of a safe haven. “But Lady Maeve’s hounds would track us to the ends of the earth. As would hunters from every sidhean in the unseelie lands, once they heard that there was a rogue human at large, ripe for the taking. I am swift of foot, but even I cannot run without rest.”

  Tamsin paced a few steps, her brow furrowed in thought. He stayed on his knee, trying to keep his gaze politely focused on her face rather than the graceful sway of her hips. It was more difficult than he cared to admit.

  “In our stories, fae are divided into two factions, seelie and unseelie,” she said abruptly, swinging round again. “Bright and dark, good and bad. You just said that you’re unseelie. Does that mean that seelie are real too? Could we go to their lands?”

  “Yes,” he said, unable to keep a certain dryness out of his tone. “If we wished to be spitted and skinned. They have little love for humans. And none at all for monsters.”

  Tamsin cast him an indignant glare, her hands closing defensively around her pet. “Angus is not a monster.”

  “I was not referring to your loyal hound.” His lips quirked. “Not that loyal hound, anyway. I told you, I am a half-breed.”

  Tamsin’s voice softened. “You aren’t a monster either.”

  “You are very kind. And also, it seems, uncommonly fond of strange beasts.” He held up a hand, stopping her as her lips parted to form some protest. “But I digress. There can be no help from the seelie. Perhaps in the old days, when our King and their Queen still made the Great Marriage…but that ritual link between the factions was lost when the Summer Queen vanished. We cannot throw ourselves upon the mercy of the seelie. They have none.”

  “Then what can we do, Cuan?” She jerked her chin in the direction of his discarded gear, still stained with his own blood. “You nearly died yesterday. And you heard Maeve. She’s going to let more warriors challenge you, again and again. Even with your magic and skills, you’ll get hurt eventually, and next time Aodhan might not be there to fix you up again. They’ll wear you down sooner or later.”

  “It is rather likely to be sooner rather than later, I fear.” It pained him to have to admit his weakness, but he had to be honest with her. “Yesterday was a fluke. I took Eogan by surprise with a low trick. I cannot hope to stand indefinitely against true high sidhe.”

  She sank down onto his bed, releasing Angus once more. “So we’re up shit creek without a paddle.”

  That human phrase he could understand all too well. The imagery was uncomfortably vivid. And apt.

  He rose, pacing the room himself as though he could physically find a way out of the trap that enclosed them. Even with his back turned, he could feel Tamsin’s gaze on him, palpable as a caress against his skin. He was acutely aware of her presence; the heat of her, the fragrance, even the soft whisper of her breath. His every sense was as heightened as if he was in one of his shift forms—but focused only on her.

  It was as if there was a connection between them. A strange bond, formed the instant their eyes had first met…

  And the answer came to him, like a firework exploding in his mind.

  “Cuan?” He heard Tamsin sit up straighter. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” he breathed. He turned around, steeling himself. “But you are not going to like it.”

  Chapter 8

  From the grim set of Cuan’s jaw, she was really not going to like it.

  “Well, whatever your idea is, it has to be better than having my brain chugged like a craft beer by evil elves.” Tamsin braced herself. “Tell me.”

  His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath. He straightened to his full, towering height, shoulders as stiff as if he was facing a firing squad.

  “We could mate,” he said.

  It was so unexpected, she thought she’d misheard. She spent a second trying to work out what he’d actually said—Bait? Wait? Hate?—before giving up. “Sorry, what?”

  “
We could mate,” he said again, pronouncing the words carefully. “You and I. Now.”

  “Uh,” Tamsin managed to get out, mouth suddenly dry. “And by mate, you mean…?”

  “Join our bodies and souls in the most deep and intimate way possible.” His tone was still studiously neutral, as though he was proposing a business merger. “It is our most sacred tradition, even older and more powerful than tithing. If you were mated to a fae, then you could no longer be treated as a mere plaything by the high sidhe. You would be considered unseelie fae yourself, by right of the mate-bond. It is the only solution. We must mate now, before I am next challenged.”

  “Whoa, whoa, back up the truck.” Cuan’s face went comically blank, and Tamsin hastily added, “I mean, I’m still struggling to understand what you’re saying. Are you seriously proposing that we get married?”

  Cuan paused for an instant, as though having to translate this. “I have heard of that human ritual. Marriage is when two people exchange vows to love and honor each other, forsaking all others, yes?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “We would call that hand-fasting. Mating is much more.” He crouched down so that their faces were level, his eyes utterly serious. “You must be very clear on what this involves, Tamsin. Mating is a profound, permanent union. It is not merely the physical joining of our bodies in shared joy, nor just well-meaning words of promise. It is magic, our deepest magic, and not one to be undertaken lightly. Our fates and souls would be forever intertwined. If you choose this path, it cannot be undone.”

  Her mouth was hanging open. She spent a moment shutting it and opening it again, no doubt looking ridiculously like a fish out of water. Then again, that was exactly how she felt.

  “Okay,” she said, finding words at last. “Right. And you’d be happy to do this with me?”

  “Yes,” he said simply, and nothing more.

  Tamsin searched his face. He seemed absolutely sincere. There wasn’t the slightest hint that he had lost his mind in the last two minutes.

  “Cuan, you’ve literally known me for one day,” she said. “And you were unconscious for most of it. It would be way too soon to consider sharing a Netflix subscription, let alone our very souls!”