“Allow?” She raised her eyebrows at his stark demand.
Instead of being intimidated, he just crossed his arms like an unmovable jackass.
Then he heaved a massive sigh, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “Trust me.”
As much as she wanted to protest, Morgan couldn’t deny his plea. She gave him a short nod, then shot him a fierce scowl and placed her hands on her hips. “Fine, I’ll wear the damn armor, but if they try anything with you or the others, I’ll kill them.”
Fuck!
She dragged her hands through her hair and grimaced. She totally sucked at this mating thing. What kind of sick psycho girlfriend goes around threatening to kill her mate’s family?
She must have said that last bit out loud, because the guys burst out laughing.
“The very best kind of mate. Some families just need killing.” Draven gave her a brilliant smile and kissed her forehead, the warm chocolate goodness of his scent making her want to lean forward and deepen the kiss, but he pulled away before she could give into the impulse. “I’m going to get ready.”
She watched as he walked toward the door, whistling merrily. Ryder swept her up in a hug, lifting her off her feet, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him as he cuddled her to his chest. His big hands spanned her back possessively, not even winded by her extra weight. He nibbled on the bite mark he’d placed on her neck, and a lance of lust heated her core.
Then the ass set her back down.
He brushed his nose against hers and inhaled deeply. A pleased, hungry growl rumbled in his chest as he straightened, aproud smile lighting up his face at being able to elicit such a response from her with a simple touch. “We will finish this later.”
Then he, too, turned toward the door and vanished.
When she turned to face Atlas, it was to see him clutching a small, intricately carved box in his fist. He snapped to attention, his posture stiff, his shoulders pulled back, a fierce fae warrior in all his glory.
Then he dropped to one knee in front of her, presenting the box to her with both his hands, his head bowed, and her breath halted in her lungs.
This felt formal.
Important.
And she didn’t know what the fuck it meant.
“Atlas—”
He cracked the box open, and her mind went blank. Nestled inside the box was a delicate string of precious gems. They were wrapped up in silver vines, each gem at the center of a delicate silver flower, and she realized that it was a crown of some sort.
They kind of resembled the pieces that he wore in his ears.
Unable to resist, she reached out and ran her fingers lightly over the silver masterpiece. It was a work of art. At her touch, the gems twinkled like lights from a Christmas tree, slow and steady, moving from one to the next, almost beating like a heartbeat.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, then slowly pulled her hand back. Her eyes flashed up toward him in confusion.
Only to see him gazing at her with savage pride. He rose to his feet, pulling the vine of gems from the box, and cradled it in his palms. “Each fae house has special gifts. Mine is earth, more specifically plants. Each fae house also has certain artifacts given to us from Faerie. This is one of them. It’s called a heartstone.
“It’s passed down through the generations to those they consider the most worthy. It’s enchanted, so it can’t be stolen or sold. Only when I die will it pass on to the next heir.” He moved his hands, the gems responding to his touch and sparkling evenbrighter. “My grandfather gave it to my grandmother when they mated. When they died, it passed to me. It is said to come alive when we find our true heart.”
“Will you wear it today?” he asked, his soul in his eyes.
The back of her throat burned as she gazed up at him.
She suspected he was leaving a lot out of the story, but she didn’t care. It mattered enough to him that she would wear it proudly. “Of course.”
He released a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly, pleasure shining in his eyes, then he became all business. “Lift your hair.”
She gathered the mass and lifted the heavy strands off the back of her neck. He slipped the silver vines around her neck, the metal warming at the touch of her skin, then he wove it around her head, securing it like a headband.
Stepping back, he nodded for her to lower her hair.
