“By the laws of the realm, you are my slave. You belong to me,” he says slowly, carefully, “but I don’t intend to treat you as a slave or even a servant. More like a… companion.”
“A companion?” I draw in a shaky breath. “You mean a whore?”
“No, Gwen, that is not what I mean.” Flustered, he mutters something unintelligible under his breath. “We will finish this conversation later. It is time for us to resume the journey to Ellonnar.”
He rises and spreads his wings, and the snow flurries finally drift down on me. I briefly lift my face to the sky, savoring the chill. Before the arrival of the Winter Court army, it didn’t snow in Braemar very often, so there is still something new and exciting about snowfall to me. I suppose it’s a remnant from my childhood, those carefree memories of wandering through a raresnowfall with my brother. That is, before he went off to become a soldier, died from a festering wound, and our birth father began drinking more.
I stand with Merak’s help and step off the blanket. He quickly shakes it out, folds it, and places it in his rucksack. He thoughtfully offers me the waterskin one last time, and I accept it gratefully. I still don’t understand what he plans to do with me, but it’s a comfort to know he won’t deprive me of food and water.
Yet he claims he won’t treat me as a slave or a servant. Does he expect the other slaves to wait on me while I lounge about his tent in the Winter Court’s war camp like some kind of glorified concubine? I can’t help but wonder.
After I drink my fill and he puts the waterskin away, he steps closer and stares down at me with an intense look that steals my breath. Then I feel it again… a sharp wave of longing.
He cups the side of my face, leans down, and presses another lingering kiss on my forehead. I almost emit a sigh of pleasure, and I stiffen as I clamp my lips together, trying my best to remain still and silent. Thankfully, it works, and I don’t make a sound.
Merak steps back and lifts the hood of my cloak over my hair, sheltering me from the cold before sweeping me into his arms. I rest my cheek against the cool leather of his shirt and tuck my arms into my chest for warmth. I wasn’t cold during the flight to this clearing, but I was feverish at the time. But I trust that if I become too cold, Merak will take a break, or perhaps wrap the blanket around me. I have a feeling if I voice my discomfort, he will be quick to meet my needs.
He tightens his hold on me and launches into the sky.
CHAPTER 4
MERAK
The colorful housesof Ellonnar finally come into view.
Relief unfurls within me, and I beat my wings faster, hastening toward the fae settlement that rests at the base of a towering mountain. Gwen needs more than melted snow, dried berries, and nuts. She needs warmth, a real meal, and a bath hot enough to ease the soreness from her delicate human body.
She also needs sleep, preferably in a large, comfortable bed piled with soft pillows and thick blankets.
A bed that will accommodate both of us.
The thought causes my cock to lurch in my leathers.
I won’t force myself on her, but I intend to keep her close. She is my mate, and I don’t plan to let her out of my sight anytime soon. Not until we’ve consummated the bond. It’s my understanding that once we finally join our bodies, the bond will strengthen, allowing me to sense if she’s ever in danger. I’ve heard of some fae males who are able to track their mates’ location through the bond alone. I want that. I want that level of protection for her.
When I begin my descent, Gwen slowly peeks out from where she hides against my chest and looks down. To my surprise, she doesn’t immediately retreat when she sees the distance between us and the ground. Instead, she admires the landscape. She peers at the town and then takes in the snow-capped mountains and the ussha-blessed ice clouds that hover above them.
Her excitement brushes against my mind. She’s thrilled to be in a new place she’s never seen before. However, this emotion is quickly followed by a wave of guilt so strong, it causes my wings to tense.
I frown.
I hope, in time, the mating bond will strengthen enough to allow me to hear her exact thoughts and read her emotions better. It would make understanding her and wooing her easier.
Wooing her?
I nearly scoff at the absurdity of the idea.
Though Vaelnor was lost long ago, I remain a highborn lord of the Winter Court. I am one of the king’s most trusted aerial scouts, and I am a skilled warrior, a male who answers to no one save the Winter King himself.
I have never chased affection from females. Many of my comrades take pleasure slaves from among the captured humans and orcs, but I have never desired such companionship. I’ve never needed anyone.
Yet the small human in my arms has become the focus of my attention in the span of a few hours. The center of my existence.
Gods.
I nearly scoff again at the poetic turn my thoughts have taken.
The Lord of Nothing needs no one, I tell myself, repeating the words like a mantra.
