If it worked, I could solve most of our problems quickly. If I told people and it failed, I might not have to worry aboutbecoming queen officially because I’d have hordes of angry fae after me.
“We lost her,” Rowan said, his words penetrating my whirling thoughts.
I blinked. “Sorry. I was off on a philosophical roller coaster.”
Dad brought my palms together and extinguished the still burning magic. “Get out of your head, daughter. You are a natural leader.”
He looked at Rowan. “Make sure she gets to bed early tonight. She’s exhausted.”
Heat colored my cheek. A slow smile worked its way onto Rowan’s lips. “You got it, Dad.”
I let out a surprised laugh. My father rolled his eyes. “Cheeky bastard. I like you less than the other one.”
“The difference between me and the other one is I don’t care.” Rowan’s smile took on an edge.
Dad huffed. “Three days from now, we’ll train again.”
Without waiting for my response, he disappeared in a shower of light.
“Do you think you’ll ever get along with him?” I asked.
Rowan rose and pounced, scooping me into his arms. He buried his nose into the crook of my neck and loped toward the house. “I didn’t marry him.”
“Rowan! I’m starving. Food first!”
“Dirty girl. What thoughts are running wild in your head? I was merely carrying you to the kitchen to make you a sandwich.”
“Liar,” I said with a laugh. “But I really do want a sandwich.”
His drawn out groan made me grin. “Five minutes. That’s all you get.”
He kicked the front door in, shattering the door jam. “I’ll do it in three.”
Rowan loped through the house and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut. This time, it held, the result of reinforcement after the last time he broke it.
Having a bear shifter for a mate was hard on indoor structures, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Chapter
Thirty
MOIRA
Ethan stood in my kitchen. I shrieked and dropped my tea cup, brown liquid spraying the side of my cabinets. One moment the cup was in the air, the next, Ethan held it in his hand, the rest of the liquid still inside.
I blinked. No one, not even me, could move like that. He straightened, holding the cup out.
I took it and stared at him in silence.
“Your door was unlocked.”
My eyebrows lifted and I sipped my tea. We both knew that was a lie.
Ethan sniffed. “Do you have any more tea?”
I pointed to the small ceramic pot. “Earl Grey. I added lavender, vanilla, and cream.”
He tried not to look eager as he rummaged through my cabinets for another mug.
