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Anin gently called Etain’s name. “It’s alright. The fae, while wicked, do not take that without consent. No Day or Night fae would ever. We enjoy the game of persuasion far too much. You are right. They had no right to steal us from where we wished to be, but do not forget, fate gets what fate wants.”
The knife dropped to the table as the flames returned to normal; the table stopped shaking. There was a loud shattering as she let the objects that had been spinning around them fall to the floor, many of them breaking. Etain’s hair continued to float around her as the only indication her rage had not quite left.
“Thank you, Etain. I will not forget your kindness.”
“Little witch,” Ciaran called. There was no doubt in his mind she was a powerful witch. She might even match him in power.
Etain whipped her head to the side to meet his gaze and glowered at him.
Ciaran smirked. “You are truly magnificent. You should see how stunningly beautiful you looked all full of rage and power. You are correct. I had never thought of the hunt in that way. We are used to playing games and using beings for our own amusement. We forget they, too, have a life. You must understand we are wicked creatures, it is our nature. It may not be right, as you have said, but we are what we are. Living such a long life and being raised to be as wicked as possible strips any empathy we might have once had. This does not mean we do not still feel, but to do so publicly would give the appearance of being weak. Do not doubt me when I say in my incredibly long life I have never seen anything that has made me feel as enraptured the way your rage did. I have never seen someone as wickedly beautiful as you were just now.” Slowly the rage left Etain as her hair fell back down around her.
Ciaran could not pull his gaze away from Etain if he tried. The heat that seemed to always grow when they locked eyes was becoming a near inferno.
Etain’s breathing became more rapid with her growing arousal, which Ciaran could smell and feel coming from her. He also could feel the pull between them become even stronger, along with the tightening in his pants. He nearly shifted in his seat to alleviate the pressure.
Ciaran noticed the exhaustion begin to sweep across his witch’s face; the display of power had nearly drained her. The power in his little witch was mighty indeed. He broke the connection before he lost control and took her on the table in front of Kes and Anin. He was positive she would not appreciate that afterwards.
Ciaran looked to the two other fae in the room. “We will continue the discussion and find terms we can all agree upon, but first I believe my little witch needs to rest.” Ciaran rose, and before Etain could say a word, he had picked her up in his arms and ported them back to his bedchambers.
As he placed Etain on the bed and began to cover her up, his little witch drowsily looked out the window. “Is it still night?” she asked, confused.
“It is always night here. Just as it is always day in the Day Court.”
She looked back at him and their eyes locked once again. This time all Ciaran could feel was adoration. “Ciaran?” she called softly.
“Yes, my little witch?”
“Have you spelled me?” Etain asked in a near whisper, sleep coming quickly for her.
“If I have spelled you, little witch, then you have spelled me as well.”
Etain’s eyes began to drift shut as he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead and whispered, “You are mine, Etain, as surely as I am yours.” In that moment Ciaran knew the little witch had defeated him and he would never let her go.
He had never been more terrified. To care for another was to have a weakness that could be exploited, but he knew without a doubt he would burn all the realms for this witch.Hislittle witch.
Eleven
Kesstaredatthechair the human witch had just vacated. It had been a long time since he had seen such a wild display of power, made even more impressive for her lack of any formal training. Most fae and witches were taught how to use their power and magic by their parents or tutors while younglings. Growing up in the Human Realm meant her mother would have no need to teach her, nor know how.
He turned his attention towards Anin. It was a beautiful name for the ethereal being. He found himself rolling her name around in his head over and over. Then he remembered he would be making the blood oath with her, and likely soon. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. Something about making a blood oath with her felt final, as if there were no going back once it was done. He knew he should be enraged with his cousin for making him do such a task with a Day fae, and yet he wasn’t.
He cleared his throat and tried to return his face back to his typical cocky and aloof smirk. “Well, that was incredibly dramatic. I am rather impressed. I think the witch has inspired me to step up my theatrics. I do hate to be upstaged.”
Anin looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “What iswrongwith you? Too many feathers short of a plume?” she said, as she cocked her head to the side and gave him a sly grin of her own.
He couldn’t help the laughter that barked out of him. His nymph could play the game nearly as well as he could. There weren’t many things he loved more than wicked banter. He was going to have a good time with this nymph and he would do everything he could to insure she didn’t have a near breakdown again like she did in the cage.
Kes figured he should apologize, but he had never done such a thing. He wasn’t sure he would even know where or how to begin. She looked uncomfortable around him, as if she was always on guard waiting for him to do something cruel. He supposed he only had himself to blame. While the witch’s display of power had been awe inspiring, her words had hit him harder than any physical blow. He didn’t like the idea of being the one responsible for placing Anin in danger again.
He wondered what her story was. Why did the Day Court want her so badly? Where had she come from before sneaking into the Night Court to cross the veil?
He realized he had been staring at her while lost in his thoughts. She looked warily back at him. He wondered if leaving her in the cage after making a deal that was skewed heavily in his favor had ruined any trust she might have built with him. The idea disturbed him more than he liked to admit. In his attempt to unsettle her, he thought he might have sabotaged himself.
He should really take her back to his quarters to allow her to clean up. It had been inconsiderate of him to not give her the minimal dignity of being clean when he took her to meet Ciaran and his human witch; Etain had looked clean, fresh, and rested. He was beginning to see he was not taking good care of Anin, not that he was used to caring for anyone but himself. He was having a very difficult time wrapping his mind around his desire to please her and his nature to want to harm any being from the Day court.
Before he could take her back to his quarters, Ciaran reappeared.
“Ah, good – you’re both still here,” he said and resumed his seat at the table. “The Blood Oath… what are your terms?” he asked Anin.
