He eyed her as if he’d never seen such an oddity, slowly shaking his head. “Meat makes ye stronger.”
“I’m not eating meat. If you want to, that’s your choice. No meat is my choice.” She wouldn’t yield on this one. Besides, her body probably wouldn’t even know how to digest meat. It had been that long since she’d eaten any. “Why were you gone when I woke up? You worried me.”
With a rueful smile, he brushed another tender kiss to her temple. “Forgive me for worrying ye, my own, but I feared if I remained in our bed, my control would weaken yet again.” He pressed his forehead to her and sighed. “I want ye healed. Rested. When ye are fully restored, then we can enjoy one another fully.”
“Our consummation was perfect,” she whispered, since Albionna still flitted around the room, doing whatever it was she did to keep everything in pristine order.
“It was entirely too brief because it had to be,” he said, “and I should have remained strong against yer temptation and waited for a more proper time.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”
His lopsided smile endeared him to her even more. It made her heart, as well as everything else, flutter. “Aye, my love,” he said. “I am glad I didn’t, too.”
A knock at the door interrupted them. Albionna flew across the room to answer it, and Magnus rose and stood in front of the bed, becoming an impenetrable wall of muscle between whoever was at the door and Lyla.
She barely shook her head at his level of overprotection, but didn’t remark on it. He knew this world better than she did, and instinct told her it would be this way until Kcirred was conquered. She wondered if they would send him to the abyss or if Magnus would choose to rip the druid to shreds? Something told her it would be the latter.
Albionna closed the door and turned to Magnus. “The Weavers await their audience in the solar, my chief.” She archeda brow at Lyla. “I informed them the Divine One was not yet ready.”
“Show them in,” Lyla said. Meeting with Mairwen and Keeva was more important than coffee and scones.
The maid didn’t move. Her focus remained on Magnus.
Lyla didn’t appreciate that one little bit. She’d never liked being outranked. She lifted the breakfast tray and held it out. “I am done, Albionna. Show them in.”
“Ye’ve not relaxed in the healing waters yet this morning”—Magnus glowered at the tray as if it were a mortal enemy— “and ye’ve not eaten enough. They can wait.”
“I am neither a child nor an invalid.” Lyla scooted closer to the edge of the bed and shoved the breakfast tray at him, thumping it against his stomach until he grabbed it with both hands. “Take this. Either Albionna lets them in, or I’m going to get up and do it. Your choice.”
“They can wait,” he growled.
“Fine.” She slid her legs off the edge of the bed and started to push up and stand.
“Feckin’ hell. Stop!” He handed off the tray to Albionna, scooped Lyla up, and returned her to the pile of pillows, taking care to sit her back perfectly against them and straighten the covers across her. Nostrils flaring like a bull about to charge, he glared at her for a long moment, then shook a finger in her face. “Ye will stop testing me, ye ken? There are times when I know what is best for ye.”
“When we are in those times, I will do as you ask, but this is not one of those times.” She didn’t want to tarnish his image in front of the servants, but she wasn’t giving in on this, and he needed to understand that. “Can you please tell Albionna it’s okay to let them in now?” she whispered.
“Ye intend to be the end of my sanity, do ye not?”
“Not on purpose.” And she didn’t, but he was smothering her. “I’ll try to do better, but this time, I really need you to try to understand. Please?”
With a disgusted shake of his head, he sat on the edge of the bed, positioning himself between her and the seats the Weavers would occupy.
She shot him a side-eyed look. “Really?”
“Compromise,” he growled.
He was right. She needed to compromise. Slipping her hand in his, she briefly rested her head on his shoulder. “Agreed.”
“Bring them in,” Magnus told the maid.
She hurried across the room and escorted them inside.
“Congratulations on yer binding,” Mairwen said as she and Keeva gracefully crossed the room, their long robes making it appear as though they skimmed along the floor on a cushion of air. They took their seats close to the bed. “And congratulations on discovering the healing power of yer music.”
Lyla glared at them both, Keeva longer than Mairwen. She wanted to say so much to them, but it was hard to know where to start. “You lied to me,” she finally told Keeva, then looked at Mairwen. “Both of you lied to me.”
“If we had told ye the truth, would ye have believed us?” Mairwen calmly folded her hands in her lap. She tipped her head at Magnus. “Ye needed to meet yer fated mate to complete yer soul.”
