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“Someday, you will love me in return, and you will understand.”
The intoxicating drink seemed like a great idea, the glass at my lips and the sweetness on my tongue so I might not have to think of any reply.
Grinning at my discomfiture, he asked, “May I have a kiss so they all might see how well you’ve tamed me?”
I almost choked on my drink. Tamed? The man was as unhinged and feral as ever. But the powerful members of our kind were watching, their attention rapt.
Cyderial would benefit from my obedience. Of course he would. But so might I. No highly ranked male was going to listen to me if I was hysterical and quarrelsome. The agenda should be approached no differently than speaking with an academy instructor. Composure mattered.
Especially if you wanted something.
And I wanted Maeve to know what was going to happen to her. I wanted all my sisters to learn what the males would do to them.
A kiss to show the crowd I could be affectionate if given freedoms and respect?
What would it cost me to do something so simple?
Cautious, my fingertips went to his chest, the softness of his sweater pleasant as I considered the next move. Drawing my talons upward, I may have laid a light scratch over his throat. The noise he made in response, how his eyes flared, a clear sign he appreciated my delicate threat.
At last, I touched his hair. Fingering the blond hair that hung in his eyes, I brushed some of it aside to see him clearly and found him very patient indeed. It was the most intimate I had been with him, those acts that took place during sex motivated from primal urges.
I was choosing this without scent, sound, or strength to compel me.
Touching him freely, warmed by his body.
There was one problem if he wanted his kiss. Whispering, I went up on tiptoe, “You’re too tall for me to reach.”
Grinning, he leaned down enough so I might meet him.
A light press of my lips to his was all I gave.
Yet, one would think I had just given him a kingdom to rule. Rumbling out his satisfaction, swelling with pride, he straightened and stared down at me in that possessive way of his.
9
“Enough mooning.” An indelicate touch came to my elbow, starling me enough that I spilled a bit of my drink. Recognizing that voice, I knew at once it was Miranda yanking me away. Handsy and insistent, she said, “Cyderial, you are going to have to hand her over now. We want to get to know your Lorieyn. Go speak to the men and behave yourself. You can have her back when we’re done.”
Shaking droplets of liquid from my fingers, I found it was not just Miranda who had approached. Several of the women, all friendly and smiling, had come to collect me.
And they were not asking.
Drawing me into their sphere, Cyderial was forced to relinquish me. Though, he had grown stiff, a vein throbbing at his temple.
I could not imagine anyone other than ancient Miranda getting away with such a scheme. Not when he looked ready to snatch me right back to see if I might pet him more.
Waving off his irritation, Miranda tugged me away. “He’ll be fine. Come.”
The ringleader of the introduction marched me to a grouping of tables the ladies had pulled together, seating me right in the middle. My back to the general, he was out of my line of sight. A tactical move on Miranda’s part, her smirk over my head toward my mate troublesome.
Taking the seat across from me, her flowing floral garment billowing enough I could see a belly no different than mine, Miranda settled in.
With a wink and a large gulp of her wine, the ageless beauty said, “You seem much less the frightened mouse tonight. I assume he has been behaving himself?”
Unsure what to make of her, I remained rigid. “Hello again, Miranda.”
“Look at you, the picture of mated bliss.” Leaning forward, she gave an unsettling grin. “You are navigating the situation beautifully.”
Gesturing at my burgeoning belly, I said, “You could have explained this to me.”
