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But Liath’s magic was different from any I had ever felt. It was like the softest fur imaginable touching and rubbing me everywhere—and I do mean everywhere. I felt it sliding between my legs and slipping sensuously over the tips of my nipples, which went instantly tight.

Around my wounded wrist, it felt warm and soothing but I was—I think understandably—more focused on the other sensations. I never touched myself in the areas Liath’s magic was touching me—they were forbidden places, my old nurse had told me, when she once caught me exploring. She had bound my hands at my sides for a week to teach me a lesson. If you’re wondering, her magic felt like coarse rope wrapping around my limbs—I had disliked her intensely.

Finally, I found my voice.

“What…what are you doing?” I gasped at last, looking up at my new husband in alarm and confusion.

“Healing you,” he said shortly. “Since you cannot heal yourself—yet,” he added, which was almost as confusing as the way his magic was touching me all over.

“By…by using your blood?” I asked, grasping onto another aspect of this strange healing to avoid talking about the physical sensations it was causing in me.

Blood magic was strictly forbidden at the Summer Court but it wasn’t an issue that came up often. Usually when a Fae of any kind did magic, they drew power from the bounty of Nature. There was no need to bleed when any amount of power was available all around us, simply for the taking.

It was yet another reason the Seelie Court was located in the heart of a forest, where natural power was abundant and easy to access. Had we lived in villages, like the mortals, our powers would have been much diminished.

I say “we” meaning my people of course—it didn’t matter where I lived, since I had no magic and so, no way to draw on the power around me and shape it to my will.

“Blood magic is true magic,” Liath growled. “It’s earned magic—not stolen.”

“What?” I shook my head, uncertain of what he was talking about.

But he didn’t answer—only withdrew his hand and bent to examine my wrist.

The sensation of ultra-soft fur brushing my skin and all my sensitive areas ceased when his magic stopped flowing, which should have been a relief. Instead, I found I still felt achy and somehow unfulfilled in a way I never had before.

Liath turned my wrist this way and that—his dark gray skin a sharp contrast to my own milky paleness. At last he nodded, as though satisfied.

“You’re healed,” he pronounced. Then he looked at me sharply. “Do you have any other injuries I need to tend to?”

“What?” My hand went involuntarily to the cheek Calista had slapped earlier. It didn’t really hurt anymore—she wasn’t nearly as strong as her brother—but I could still feel a faint tingle.

“Ah—they both went at you, did they?” Liath shot a glare at my cousins, who were completely oblivious. “I won’t hurt a female, though the Goddess knows that little bitch deserves it!”

Again, it seemed as though he knew my cousins somehow, which should not have been possible. I had no idea what was going on but Liath didn’t give me time to ask. He turned his left hand—the one he’d cut—upward and I saw that the slice he’d made across his palm with the dagger was almost closed.

So he’d been healing both me and himself at the same time—no easy feat. In fact, even the Palace healer would struggle with a double healing, but Liath hadn’t even broken a sweat.

There was still a drop of blood left in his mostly-healed palm. He dabbed his fingertip in it and pressed it to my cheek.

At once, I felt the soft fur of his magic brushing against my skin again—it felt like I was naked and someone was rubbing a mink blanket all over my bare body. The intimacy and pleasure of it seemed obscene—it made me blush and gasp as my nipples tingled and the place between my legs came to life in a way it never had before I’d felt his magic.

Liath studied my flushed face with a knowing look.

“Hmm…you feel that do you, little bird?” he murmured.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” I stammered. “Feel what?”

He frowned again.

“Don’t pretend and don’t lie to me. I’ll remind you again that you vowed me your honesty.”

He removed his hand abruptly and the feeling of his magic cut off at once.

I didn’t know what to say. Should I apologize? Then I felt myself harden inside. By the Shining Throne, I would apologize for nothing. It didn’t matter how good his magic felt or that he had healed me—he was still Quill’s murderer and I didn’t intend to forget that, just because we’d taken a lot of vows together.

“Stay here,” Liath told me.

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