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have eased into the hot tub with her, kissed her, and washed her hair.
“If she runs, I’ll hold you and yours personally responsible,” he
growled. He was somewhat satisfied by her nervous nod.
The waning sunlight was still hot on his skin. That would change.
He knew by nightfall the forest would be cold. If he took her out
there, she would have no choice. She would have to cling to him for
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warmth and protection. Perhaps out in the forest she would begin to
learn to trust him.
The former heir ignored those who called out greetings to him. He
didn’t want to hear about his soon-to-be-legendary victory. The damn
bards would be singing about it soon enough. They had no idea how
close that victory had come to being a bloodbath. Only Meg’s sweet
hand had stayed him, and she had paid for her interference. He left
orders with the stable boy to get his horse ready then made his way to
the river that ran near the marketplace. He tossed his shirt, boots, and
trousers on the grass and dove in where he knew the water was deep
and cold.
The chill hit his system like a bloody winter blast. He gritted his
teeth against the bite of pain along his skin. He dove deep, refusing to
come up for air or warmth. His lungs could handle it. He wrapped his
hands around the strong reeds, anchoring himself to the bottom. It was
quiet here. There was no incessant chatter. There was no one to
constantly remind him of duties that were no longer his. They didn’t
understand. He had been the deposed King of the Seelie for almost
half his life now. Couldn’t they leave him be?
Beck watched a small school of fish swim by. The river was
remarkably clear and lovely. It reminded him of the river that ran by
the white palace in Tir na nÒg . His mother would take him, Cian, and
