Page 47 of Fallen Court

Cate paused at a broken bit of pavement and slipped off her impractical shoes. “Start. Explaining. Now.”

I decided it was best to begin with the basics and then prime her for the bombshell. “To the fae, handfasting shows intention to be married. It allows the couple a year and a day to decide if they’re right for each other.”

“I was at Ciara’s handfasting,” she reminded me. “So, this thing between us can be broken?”

The words were a knife to my heart. She had a right to ask questions, to be upset, to reject the bond if she so chose. But fuck…I’d rather take a bullet than consider that possibility. “Not broken, but you can reject it.”

“What do you mean that it can’t be broken?” She shook her head. “What happened to the trial marriage? How did this even happen?” Questions flooded from her, her voice pitching higher with each one.

“Do you remember the night we finally went to bed together?” Why the fuck did I feel embarrassed asking that? I pushed past it when she nodded and forced myself to continue. “And I tied you up?”

Time to rip off the bandage.

Her mouth fell open. “That? It wasn’t a handfasting.”

“I guess it was.” I lifted my hand to show her the mark of the mating bond again. “And the magic took.”

“It was just sex,” she blurted out.

I winced, each word stabbing me through the heart.

“And yet…” She might even be pleased that it was knocking me down a few pegs—if she could see past whatever homicidal fantasies she was currently entertaining. This whole situation was a lesson in humility. I deserved this. A punishment for how I’d lied and tricked her when we first met.

She remained silent for a full minute—the longest one of my life. “Did you do it on purpose?”

My pace faltered as I bit back a response I knew I would regret. Mating had been the furthest thing from my mind that night, even though I’d already fallen in love with her. The universe didn’t deliver gifts like mates to men like me.

“If you did, you can tell me,” she added. “I just want to know.”

The quiet in her voice affected me more than if she’d screamed it. Part of me wished that she would. Apparently, there was something worse than having my integrity questioned. It was knowing I’d disappointed her.

“I didn’t.” A breeze tossed my hair, the wind carrying us toward an uncertain future. “I don’t have any proof. All I have is my word.”

Her gaze fixed on me, something unreadable moving behind her eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She took another deep breath. “I believe you.”

“You do?” It spilled out of me. To my relief, she laughed. Not a true laugh. Tension laced this one, but it was a start.

“I was there.” She smiled as if recalling the memory. “We weren’t thinking clearly.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I guess not.”

“I mean, we were just…going at it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Is it a bad sign that we’re better at fighting than talking?”

“We’ll get better at talking.” I took a step toward her, battling my instinct to reach out and take her into my arms, even as I eyed a sturdy-looking oak tree. There was no one around, and already my need for her was rising again.

“Because we’re stuck together?” The question snuffed my forming plans to make love to her there.

“You aren’t stuck with me.” Something twisted in my guts, like the words poised on my tongue were actual poison. “Just because magic sealed the bond doesn’t take away your choice in the matter. If you don’t wish to be mates, I’ll respect that.”

And then I would walk straight out of New Orleans so Goemon could put a bullet in my brain.

“Can I…think about it?” She chewed on her lower lip.

Was that a test or an opportunity? Probably best to view it as the latter. Because I couldn’t give up. Not on her. Not on us. I would never force her to accept the bond, but death would be a mercy if she did. The idea of walking around for the rest of my life with half of my soul…