Tithed to the Fae: Fae Mates - Book 1

by Chant, Zoe

  “I am aware that this may seem somewhat hasty,” Cuan said, once again demonstrating a remarkable gift for understatement. “I would not even have suggested it had not time been so short. But I could be challenged and killed before the moon sets, leaving you alone and defenseless. You know what fate you face. This is the only way I can guarantee your safety.”

  “Even so, you can’t be serious. Me, magically bound to you? Permanently? It’s insane!”

  “If we were not in such desperate straits, I would never have dared to suggest it.” He dropped his gaze to her hands, voice roughening. “I…I appreciate that I am hardly the sort of man you could have dreamed would be your life-mate.”

  A hysterical laugh escaped her. “Oh boy. You got that right.”

  He flinched, just a little—but then lifted his head again, meeting her eyes steadily once more. “I know that I am not the mate you deserve. But I would strive every day to be worthy of you.”

  “No, that’s not what I—argh!” She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Cuan, you seem like a great guy. You must be, considering what you’ve already done to try to protect me. But proposing to spend the rest of our lives together? This is taking your whole white knight thing way too far.”

  Cuan was looking bewildered again. “I am not a knight. And my armor is brown.”

  “See? This is exactly my point!” She waved her hands in the air. “We barely even speak each other’s language! Why on earth are you willing to sacrifice so much for me when we’ve only just met? For all you know, I could be a, a kleptomaniac serial killer with a collection of lovingly polished human teeth stashed away in my sock drawer.”

  One corner of Cuan’s mouth quirked up, very slightly. “If that is a confession, I remain undaunted. My teeth are not human, after all.”

  Looks like sex on a stick and has a sense of humor, some little inner voice pointed out. Are you sure you want to object to this whole let’s-mate-to-save-your-life scheme?

  Tamsin shoved her libido back down again. “Cuan, I can’t let you do this. No matter how honorable you are, or how much you want to protect the poor defenseless human, this is going too far. You can’t permanently bind your soul to mine just because you feel sorry for me!”

  “That would not,” his voice dropped to the faintest breath, “be the reason.”

  “Then what is the reason, Cuan?” All her worried confusion boiled over at last, spilling out of her in a torrent. “I don’t understand! None of this makes any sense. I don’t even know why you stepped in to protect me in the first place!”

  His eyes changed—literally. A thin ring of gold blazed into life around his dark, deep pupils, threading through the emerald green of his irises in a fiery starburst.

  The knotwork tattoos on his cheekbones lit up too, with shimmering, shifting shades of turquoise and indigo, as though he’d captured the Northern Lights under his skin.

  Holy hotness. He had to be using magic on her now, despite his claim earlier that he couldn’t.

  And at that moment, Tamsin didn’t care at all.

  “Do you truly not understand?” That soft, growling whisper vibrated through her bones, curling her toes. “Because I think you do, Tamsin. You know why I would lay down my life for you. Why I would give my life to you, devoting my every remaining breath to your service, gladly. You know, as much as I.”

  She could barely breathe, hypnotized by those gold-streaked eyes. She could only shake her head, the tiniest gesture of mute denial.

  “You do. Not here.” He laid a single fingertip on the center of her forehead, briefly, then moved it down to rest on her chest, over her heart. “But here. You know.”

  That light touch seared through every part of her body. Her heart was hammering so hard, he had to be able to feel it.

  And somehow…she could feel his heartbeat too, as surely as though she’d laid her hand against his bare chest. Even though his face was still and solemn, she knew that his pulse was racing as fast as hers.

  Unable to resist, she reached out to him, mirroring his gesture. He drew in a sharp breath the instant she made contact, his chest leaping under her fingertips. The shifting colors of his tattoos swirled faster, pulsing in time to the shared rhythm of their hearts.

  “What…what is that?” she whispered.

  “A connection.” His free hand caught hers, flattening her palm against his hard chest. “Or rather, the echo of a connection. I believe that our fates are already intertwined, Tamsin. The mate-bond is so powerful that it echoes backward through time. I believe—I know—that is why we are drawn so strongly to each other. You cannot tell me that you do not feel it.”

  This is crazy! her rational mind shrieked. But somehow it didn’t feel crazy. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, to have him so close, to be bathed in his shimmering light.

  “Your tattoos,” she murmured, spell-bound by those ever-shifting colors. “They’re glowing. You’re doing magic on me.”

  “No.” The glowing lines highlighted his sharp cheekbones, casting the rest of his face in shadow. Her fingertips ached to map every hidden contour. “It is you who is doing this to me.”

  Drawn by an irresistible urge, she reached up to him. He went very still, not even breathing, as she traced the intricate markings that curved down the sides of his face. Sparkles followed her fingertips, swirling around her hand as though she truly was casting a spell.

  Cuan’s eyes burned even brighter, gold creeping further into the green. Slowly, he leaned forward, his intense gaze holding her captive. She found that she was leaning forward too, as if they were a pair of magnets, the force between them growing the closer that they came to each other. Her whole being yearned for him, with a fire that consumed all thought. Closer, closer…

  Angus yapped, shattering the moment. He set his teeth in her sleeve, tugging her arm away from Cuan, growling.

  Her dog dragged her back to her senses. She jerked away from Cuan, her cheeks burning.

  “No. No.” She scooped Angus into her lap, holding onto him as though he could anchor her to reality. “This is crazy. It can’t be real.”

  “I assure you, fated mates are very real. Rare, but real.” Cuan hadn’t moved, still leaning toward her. His gold-streaked eyes stayed fixed on her, steady and certain. “We will be mates. We are mates. How else can you explain the attraction you feel for me?”

  “Because you look like someone put Legolas and Aragorn in a genetic blender and threw in a handful of Jason Momoa for good measure!”

  Cuan’s lips twitched again. “I will assume that was a compliment.”

  Tamsin groaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eye-sockets to block out that devastating half-smile. “Never mind. Cuan, trust me, the mystery here is not why I’m attracted to you.”

  But still, he was acting like a man who was totally smitten with her. Whether this whole mate thing was true or not, it was clear he believed it.

  “Okay.” She dropped her hands again. “Let’s say for a second that you’re right about this soul mate thing. You said earlier that I wouldn’t like it. Why?”

  The shimmering lights playing through Cuan’s tattoos went out as abruptly as if she’d flicked a light switch. The gold faded from his eyes, leaving nothing but wary, guarded green. The distance between them suddenly seemed vast rather than a matter of a few feet.

  “Because mates cannot bear to be apart from each other.” He straightened back into that stiff, formal posture, back and shoulders rigid. “You would be permanently bound to me. To my world. To the fae.”

  She stared at him, unable to believe that he hadn’t mentioned this before. “Well, that’s no use, then. The whole point of this was to break the curse on me, not make it worse!”

  “The point of this is to save your life.” Cuan spread his hands. “Yes, you would still be unable to return to your own world. But at least you would no longer be without rights in this one.”

  There was a certain logic to that,
she had to admit. But to give up all hope of ever going back home…to abandon her beloved cottage, her job at the animal shelter, her friends…

  Just the thought of it made her feel sick.

  “I can’t.” She shook her head in denial, hands tightening on Angus’s soft fur. “I can’t, Cuan. I don’t belong here. I want to go home. I can’t throw away all chance of that. Not even to save my life.”

  His jaw clenched, and for a moment she thought he was going to argue further. Then he let out his breath in a long sigh, shoulders sagging.

  “I do not claim to understand.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, raking it back behind his pointed ears. “But if that is your desire, I will—”

  A melodic chime interrupted his words, as though someone had rung a silver bell over their heads. Looking up, Tamsin saw a bright dot circling above them. The mote of light sparkled, unfolding into the shape of a glowing butterfly the size of her palm.

  Cuan’s mouth tightened. Looking like he was thrusting his arm into a toilet, he held up a hand.

  The incandescent insect fluttered down to perch on his fingers. Its wings unfolded like a book opening, revealing graceful, swirling crimson markings.

  “That looks like handwriting,” Tamsin said, fascinated despite everything. “Is that some kind of message?”

  “Yes. A summons.” Cuan blew on the insect, scattering it back into fading motes of light. They swirled, illuminating the hard, grim lines of his face. “As I was saying, I will do everything I can to assist you. Starting with trying very hard not to die in the next ten minutes.”

  Chapter 9

  “You are being a very ungracious guest, human.” Lady Maeve’s long crimson fingernails toyed with a glistening pile of fruit, beautifully arranged on a wide silver platter in front of her. “You do realize that courtesy demands that one is properly attentive to one’s host. Yet you are proving no entertainment at all. You have not even paid me a single compliment on my hospitality.”

  “Sorry,” Tamsin gritted out, through a throat tight with anxiety. “Little distracted here. You know, by the duel to the death.”

  Maeve plucked a perfect strawberry from the platter, languidly raising it to her lips. “Oh, is that still going on?”

  Tamsin suspected that the elf queen was just needling her. The rest of the fae court was far from nonchalant. Every single one was leaning forward, ignoring the lavish feast laid out in front of them. All around, jewel-toned eyes glittered with excitement—literally.

  It wasn’t only their eyes that glowed in the shadows. Their tattoos were alight too, illuminating avid, hungry faces. It was similar to Cuan’s beautiful, mesmerizing colors earlier…but not the same. These fae gleamed like light flashing from the edge of a knife, sharp and cold.

  In the middle of the dining hall, bathed in that harsh, pitiless light, Cuan fought for his life.

  For both their lives.

  This time, his opponent was a lean, short-haired high sidhe woman dressed in a long green robe. When the warrior had stepped forward to issue her challenge, bare-handed and unarmored, Tamsin had thought it a fairer match at least—but that had been before the woman summoned lashing, living whips of thorned vines. Now Cuan leaped and spun in a whirlwind, swords a silver blur, fighting to keep the magical vines from entangling him in a deadly embrace.

  Strawberry juice glistened on Maeve’s full lower lip. Her tongue flicked out, licking it away. “He will lose, you know.”

  “He won’t,” Tamsin said, praying that it was true. “He’s fighting for me. For both of us. He won’t let me down.”

  As if he could hear her words, Cuan doubled his speed. Moving with inhuman grace, he sliced through vines faster than his opponent could summon them. He lunged through the gap that he’d made, and Tamsin’s heart soared—but the elf woman made a frantic gesture, and Cuan stumbled, his attack falling short as a vine wrapped around his ankle.

  “Oh, perhaps not today,” Maeve said lazily, as Cuan jerked his foot free and went after his opponent again. “But eventually he will fall. One might wonder why he bothers to fight at all, given that fact. Then again, I suppose a beast does not have the capability to think of the future.”

  Tamsin’s hands clenched on the edge of the table. If she’d had a fork, she’d have stabbed the fae queen with it. Sadly, cutlery didn’t seem to be a thing in fairyland.

  “Cuan’s not an animal,” she said. “He’s a man, a good man. I only wonder why he follows you.”

  “A high sidhe must have a court.” Maeve selected a blackberry, popping it into her mouth. She chewed for a moment, unhurried, before continuing, “And a hound must have a master. Or in this case, a mistress. And I am the only one willing to house such a beast. One of his tainted blood would not be welcomed in any other sidhean. I have him on a double leash, bound by both his natures.”

  Maeve ate another blackberry, slowly and with relish. She appeared engrossed in the fruit, but Tamsin caught a glimpse of gleaming scarlet beneath Maeve’s long, lowered eyelashes. The elf queen was a lot more interested in the conversation than she appeared to be.

  “Or at least, I did have him at my beck and call.” Maeve’s tone was casual, but Tamsin had an ice-cold certainty that the elf queen’s disinterest was feigned. “Now, it seems, my dear beast threatens to slip his collar. You have clearly enthralled him beyond all sense. Looking at you, I am at a loss as to how.”

  Bitch, please. Tamsin held her tongue, not responding to the back-handed insult.

  For all Maeve’s petty cattiness, she wasn’t some high-school mean girl. Tamsin had always stood up to bullies, but she couldn’t afford to piss Maeve off too much. She didn’t trust the high sidhe queen not to find some new way to take it out on Cuan.

  And he was in enough trouble as it was.

  A vine curled around Cuan’s left arm, wrenching it round and nearly impaling him on his own sword. He dropped the blade—it glimmered and vanished before it hit the floor—but couldn’t prevent the vine from lashing his wrist behind his back. Another vine curled around his neck, and he had to abandon his other sword too, thrusting his hand up to stop the magical rope from throttling him.

  Laughter drifted from the crowd as they watched Cuan struggle. The muscles of his arms bulged, all his strength barely keeping the loop of vine off his neck.

  His tattoos flared peacock-blue, the light running over his body like it had yesterday, when he’d changed into a horse…but then it faded again, leaving him still a man. Tamsin guessed that he couldn’t shapeshift with the vines squeezing so tightly around his body.

  The sorceress made a sharp twisting motion, and long thorns sprouted from the vine, cutting deep into Cuan’s hand. He held on grimly, knuckles white, blood welling between his clenched fingers.

  “I have you now, beast,” the sorceress called. The poison-green tattoos on her upraised arms glowed brighter, and the vines tightened further around Cuan’s torso. “Will you yield?”

  Cuan bared his teeth in a snarl.

  “Now, now.” The sorceress wagged a finger at him. “Beasts who cannot mind their manners must be muzzled.”

  She gestured, and a loop of vine jerked tight around Cuan’s mouth. Mocking laughter rose from the crowd as he arced back, pulled up on his toes by the tight bridle. The sorceress bowed to the court with an extravagant flourish, playing to her audience.

  “Make her stop!” Tamsin started up from the table, fists clenching. “He can’t surrender if he can’t talk. Make her stop!”

  Maeve rolled another blackberry between her fingers, apparently inspecting the fruit for blemishes. “Does he wish to surrender?”

  Across the hall, Cuan’s eyes met hers, as though he’d overheard despite the distance. He jerked his head from side to side, just a fraction, the vines cutting into his mouth.

  But there was no point in both of them getting killed. Tamsin turned back to Maeve, ignoring that mute denial. “Yes. He surrenders. I’m surrendering for him. Tell her to let him go!”
>
  Maeve sucked juice from her fingers, one by one, holding her gaze the whole time.

  “Interesting,” the sidhe queen murmured. Her eyes lit up, shining red, as she smiled. “But you cannot concede for your champion. And it is plain that he will die before admitting defeat. So what will you do now, I wonder?”

  The sorceress motioned again, and the vines around Cuan tightened even further. Tamsin desperately cast around. Her gaze fell on the heaped fruit platter. She didn’t dare interfere in the duel directly, but…

  “You said you wanted me to entertain you, Lady Maeve?” She grabbed a pair of ripe, squishy peaches. “Shall I show you an amusing game we have in the human world?”

  Maeve’s dark eyebrows rose. “What in the seven realms are you intending to do with those, little human? Do you expect to save your champion’s life with juggling?”

  “Nope. But since you all seem to have the social maturity of high schoolers...” Tamsin hefted the fruit. “Food fight!”

  Before anyone could stop her, she hurled a peach at a high sidhe sitting further down the table. Even as it splattered from his shocked face in an explosion of juice, she was throwing the other peach.

  Pandemonium broke out. She grabbed fistful after fistful of fruit, picking her targets at random. Shrieks of outrage split the air as high sidhe dove for cover.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the sorceress startle, distracted by the sudden noise. The glow around her hands flickered, just for an instant…but it was long enough.

  Cuan burst free of the vines, exploding into his horse form. He thundered toward the sorceress, tail flying, eyes blazing with furious golden fire.

  Tamsin had to trust that he could take it from there. She kept up her barrage of fruit, hurling plums and kiwis as fast as she could. Partly to keep the sorceress distracted…but mainly because it felt really good to smash stuff into all those snooty elf faces.