Page 25 of The Filigree Key

Easy, Meadow. Take a breath.

Still panting from the exhilaration of the fight, I swept my hand back towards the bear. “Sparring.”

His hand didn’t move from his pouch. “But you’re terrified of the bear.”

“And I told you this morning I had to master my fear. So here I am.”

Ossian glanced from the blood crusting my cheek to the rents in my dress where the grizzly’s claws had scraped down my thigh. There were no bruises or lacerations, not even scars. His gaze flicked to the bear where he huddled in his corner. The beast stopped licking his wounds and growled at the fae king. When Ossian didn’t strike, the bear cautiously resumed his ministrations.

A new tension rippled through the fae king’s shoulders. “You were depleted this morning after charging the key. How were you able to summon battle magic?”

I shrugged. “Guess I recharged.”

His eyebrows winged up into his mop of copper curls. “And all it took was a snack?” he sputtered.

I guessed from his bewildered tone that high fae didn’t replenish themselves that quickly. Meadow Hawthorne wanted to rub it in his face, but Misty Fields cautioned against it. “Apparently I could’ve used more of a boost.” I gave a self-deprecating half-grin. “Lost my grip on that battle magic when he knocked me to the ground. Maybe I should’ve had a snack and a nap. I’ll do better next time.”

“Meadow, there won’t be a next time.”

“But—”

“You are too valuable to risk injury against that bear!” He retrieved my leather wrist guards and tossed them at me, then drilled me with a knowing look. “Or sneaking out the castle without telling anyone.”

Thistle thorns! What had his spies told him? Had they seen me at Shari’s hut? Or just my return? By the Green Mother, had they seen my friends leave with that potion?

I wet my lips and dropped my eyes to his bare feet. The glamour wavered for only a second, revealing his cloven hooves. They were only half as large as the grizzly’s paws, yet just as deadly.

As Misty Fields scrambled for a demure and apologetic response, Meadow Hawthorne took over. “Green witches need to ground themselves,” I said boldly. “And I was drained from this morning, so what did you expect me to do?”

The Stag Man heaved a condescending sigh like he was being forced to, yet again, explain something extraordinarily simple to an idiot. “Wystan—”

Ugh, not this old lie again.

“I don’t fear that hobgoblin, least of all within the castle estate. And I can’t charge the key and train against the bear unless I ground myself.”

“Meadow,” he thundered.

My heart was a war drum in my chest. If he denied me this, I’d never have an excuse to get close to Arthur again. What if I needed to update him on the Redbud Rebellion? What if I wanted him simply know I hadn’t forgotten about him? These thoughts and more rushed through my head, demanding I do something, no matter how crazy.

The Stag Man tossed his head, and the glamour flickered to reveal his massive antlers raking the air. “How many times must I tell you—”

Ossian never finished his sentence.

My glowing hand shot out, seized his shirt collar, and yanked him down to eye level. “Shut up, you blustering peacock. How can I kill the bear as my wedding gift to you if I don’t train myself to win against it?”

The Stag Man’s mouth dropped open. His shock only lasted a moment before he jerked upright and out of my grip. “You—”

“It’s customary for a bride and groom to exchange wedding gifts, at least in my culture.” My boldness vanished, my tone suddenly unsure. Misty Fields wrapped her arms around her chest as she turned away, hugging herself against his disappointment. “A-and I thought, for a fae king who has everything, what could I possibly give him? So, I thought of the bear, a-and—”

“Meadow.” Broad hands cupped my cheeks and guided me to look up into the handsome face of my enemy. His jewel-bright eyes flickered over my face, searching for any hint of deceit, but Misty Fields knew what was at stake. She convinced him with an innocent expression of hope. “Love, it is perfect.”

He ducked his head, capturing my mouth in a possessive kiss. I twisted away before his tongue could delve into my mouth, offering my neck instead. His animalistic nature found the vulnerable area too irresistible to ignore. Ossian’s teeth clamped down.

I masked my pained whimper with a pleasured moan and threaded my fingers into his copper hair. A sigh escaped me as I pictured ripping each beautiful curl out by its roots.

“I thought you didn’t want me to arouse you in front of the bear,” he murmured against my throat.

“That’s before I found out he tried to keep us apart.” I pinched a curl between thumb and forefinger, imagining it to be a daisy’s petal. He loves me, he loves me not. “And joining with my magic has unleashed something in me. Something a little more . . . feral.”