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Maeve

“This is at least the fourth ti I’ve died for you–or almost died for you,” Troy said weakly as Cleo rolled a bandage over his chest. “You’re going to marry .”

“Okay,” I whispered, my mouth trembling as I smiled, and my eyes welled with tears. I looked from his face to his chest, which was moving up and down as he breathed.

He was breathing. He was alive.

And he had a moonstone.

Keaton was sniffling behind us, Myla murmuring reassurances in his ear as she stroked his back with her head pressed against his shoulder.

I’d had a strained relationship with Keaton since the day I t him. I thought he was ornery and arrogant, and I would continue to think that, but kneeling on the beach with him while Troy died in front of us had cented an intimate type of relationship between us–a shared indescribable grief, and eventually a communal joy when Troy opened his eyes once more.

We were all standing in absolute disbelief, still processing the events that had taken place in the last thirty minutes or so. Troy had died and co back to life. Damian was dead. Opaline had been captured and was hogtied and laying in one of the skiffs, her screams of frustration mingling with the rush of the incoming tide.

And we had the moonstone we had co all this way for.

“We’re going back to Winter Forest now,” Troy grunted, trying to sit upright despite Cleo’s protests.

“We—we can’t. We have to go to Dianny first—” I stamred, stepping forward into the circle that was standing around Troy.

“Maeve’s right. We can take whatever goods we find here back to the Persephone, but we’ll need to stop to—”

“Tasia—” Myla and I said at the sa ti, which caused the low murmuring taking place around the circle to quiet.

I sucked in my breath, glancing at Myla before exhaling deeply and telling everyone what had happened, and what had been said, after Myla killed Damian.

Keaton’s face fell at every word. I knew he was thinking about Robbie. We all were. I didn’t know if I fully believed Opaline, but even Damian had warned about Tasia and her powers.

“We have to go back and see what happened. If there were survivors. If Robbie...” I tucked my hands into the pockets of my pants. I was filthy, still in the clothes I had worn when we entered the tomb three days ago.

“Robbie would have made it out; he’ll be fine,” Keaton turned to Troy, offering his hand. Troy took it as Keaton helped him upright, holding onto Keaton’s shoulder for support as he stood, wobbling for a mont before regaining his composure.

It seed that my blood hadn’t healed him. The moonstone had brought him back to life, but he still had a deep wound across his chest. Pete was holding the knife Opaline had stabbed him with during her attack, turning it over and over in his hand.

“We’ll split the supplies Damian has here at camp,” Troy said firmly, looking from face to face. “Maeve and I are going north, back to the pack lands... to Winter Forest. The rest of you will go to Dianny.”

“Troy, we should go with them—”

“No,” he rounded on , looking irritated. I pursed my lips, biting the inside of my cheek as he continued. “This was the plan all along, to stop Damian from getting his hands on the moonstone. It’s done. It’s ti for you to go ho, Maeve.”

His tone was incredibly harsh, and I felt myself beginning to cower. He was angry, whether at or the situation, I wasn’t sure.

But Troy was watching with interest as he spoke, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel his gaze all over my skin and it brought a warm blush to my cheeks. I looked away from him, knowing exactly what he was looking for. He knew today was my birthday. He knew what that ant.

I wondered if he felt the mate bond.

I wondered if he knew I didn’t.

“Troy’s right; we split up. Soone find the keys to that cruiser in the distance—” Keaton stepped out of the circle, letting go of Troy. He was barking commands to the crew now, his skin tight with dried tears. I swallowed against the apprehension tightening my throat and looked at Myla, who just shook her head.

“We’re really going to split up?” I said to anyone who was still listening.

“I want to go north with you.” Pete had stepped forward, his words directed at instead of Troy. This took Troy by surprise, and he turned to face Pete, his brow furrowed.

“That’s not up to you—” Troy began.

“I’d never been off the Isles when I first boarded the Persephone. Now, I’ve traveled south, about as far as you can go. I didn’t find her—”

“Find who?” Troy asked, narrowing his eyes.

“My... mate.”

Keaton let out his breath, shaking his head as he chuckled and turned to face us. “I knew it all along—”

“I’m serious! I want to go with Maeve. I want to see the world north of the Isles—”

“Fine!” Troy bit out, reaching up to hold his hand against his temple. He swayed, and I jumped forward, wrapping my arms around him before he fell over. His body was warm against mine, and I couldn’t help but lay my cheek against his back, thankful when his body softened to my touch. “I’m tired. I’m really... I just need to lie down.”

“That’s fine. There’re couches in the big tent. You can rest while the rest of us gather up supplies.” I whispered against his skin. I felt him nod, weakly, his muscles trembling as he took a deep breath.

Then he moved out of my arms and walked in silence toward Damian’s tent.

“It’s not you, Maeve. He’s hurt.” Keaton was looking at , his eyes shining in the moonlight.

I swallowed hard, nodding as I looked down at my feet.

Keaton was only half right.

***

It was daybreak. Light was filtering through the tent flap and people were walking by with bundles of supplies in their hands. Cleo ca in carrying fresh bandages, and I sat up, giving her a soft smile.

“How was he last night?” she asked as she sat her bundle down on Damian’s desk and began to unroll the bandages.

“He woke up a few tis.... He’s in pain, Cleo. I offered to help him but he—he told not to bother.” I tried to hide my hurt but failed, my cheeks flaming with a furious blush.

“I’m sorry he said that to you Maeve. I’m sure he didn’t an it to upset you.” She soaked a rag with what slled like pure alcohol, and I sucked in my breath, imagining how much it would sting when she cleaned Troy’s wound with it.

“I want you to watch do this, okay? You’re going to have to do this when we... we...” She paused, biting her lip and shaking her head as she set the alcohol-soaked rag on a small tray. “I can’t say I’m totally on board with you traveling with Troy and Pete without with you, being as pregnant as you are.”

We had talked about it the night before. Troy, Pete, and I would be going north in Damian’s cruiser, while the rest of the crew of the Persephone would be going to Dianny, which included Cleo. She had protested, but I knew she would co to regret being separated from Myla if she didn’t go with them, especially after hearing the story of Cleo’s mate.

“I’m going to be fine,” I said reassuringly, trying to sound sincere. I had at least three months to go before I gave birth, and a two-month-long journey to Winter Forest. Troy stirred, shifting uncomfortably on the couch near Damian’s desk, his eyes fluttering.

“We’re going to have to leave soon. Keaton is taking Opaline on the Persephone—”

“No, he’s not.” Troy rolled onto his side, hissing as he struggled to sit upright. His bandages were red with fresh blood. He blinked into the soft morning light, his gaze settling on for a mont before looking at Cleo, then her bandages. “No,” he said curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’ll get a raging infection, Troy. We’ve been over this twice already.” She took the tray between her hands and stood before him, giving him a motherly look, sothing that demanded obedience.

He surrendered, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he accepted his fate, and Cleo started to unwind the bandages over his chest wound.

I wanted to look away, but Cleo called over. “This is the area you need to worry about, right here. See how deep this is? I’m going to stitch it up—”

“No, you’re not—” Troy closed his mouth and breathed through his nose as Cleo gave him another cold look, then settled back against the couch.

“Anyway, I’m going to stitch him up. But you still need to clean the entire area at least twice a day. When you get to Winter Forest, your mother should take a look at it and see if she can help him, okay? He might have so nerve damage...”

I nodded, fighting back tears. I hadn’t told anyone about the painful feeling lodged in my chest that was telling sothing was dreadfully wrong in Winter Forest.

I continued to watch Cleo, listening as she told exactly what she was doing and why. As she was wrapping a fresh bandage around Troy’s chest, I looked up into his eyes, which were focused on mine again with the sa intensity as the night before. He said sothing to Cleo, and she nodded in response, turning away from him and gathering her supplies before she left the tent.

I held my breath as I sat down on the couch across from Troy, my mouth going dry. He cleared his throat, and I looked up at him, waiting for him to ask the inevitable.

But he didn’t speak. He just stared.

“I don’t feel it, Troy—”

“I know you don’t. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Of course, it does!” I cried, wringing my hands together. “I’m not your mate. Your mate is still out there sowhere, and I... I won’t let you sacrifice that happiness. If you found her I would... I would let you go. I would.”

“I feel it, Maeve, even if you can’t.”

His voice was incredibly serious, which matched the look etched on his face. There was no softness in his features. He wasn’t trying to convince . He was telling it was so.

“There’s a difference between being in love and being with your mate—”

“How do you know?” His eyes were shining in the sunlight coming through the tent flap. I looked away from him. “How could you possibly know the difference? What do you feel for , Maeve? Tell how it’s different—”

“I love you—”

“That is enough for .”

“It’s not enough for .” I bit my lower lip, wishing he could just peer into my mind and help unravel the tangled web of emotions I was feeling. I loved him. I wanted him. He was the father of my unborn children.

If he was my mate, I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t even feel my wolf. My blood didn’t possess healing powers.

I was useless. I wasn’t a White Queen.

And it would kill if he found his mate and refused her because of . I wouldn’t let him sacrifice that right, that gift. I loved him too much to let him do that for .

“We’ve talked about this before—” he said, but I interrupted him, holding my hand up to silence him.

“It doesn’t change how I feel!”

“You’re mine!” He looked like a totally different person than the Troy I had once known during those early, easy days at the Castle in Mirage. His hair was much lighter now, bleached a soft chestnut brown by the sun and curled softly against his shoulders. His skin was still deeply tanned, but his face was etched with lines of fatigue from months of turmoil and stress. He looked tired, annoyed, and overall displeased.

I could see the silent plea of understanding in his eyes. It broke my heart.

“I can feel it even if you can’t,” he said as he rose to his feet, baring his teeth against the pain. “I have been beaten, broken, and seen death for you, Maeve.”

“I’m sorry for all of that—”

“Don’t apologize to !” He took a wobbling step forward, his hand coming up to press against the wound over his heart, closing his eyes for a mont. “I would do it all over again. I would. And I’ve told you ti and ti again how I knew you were my mate the second I saw you. I was watching, you know, before I even knew who you were. I had seen you in the market twice before the day we t. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. And that day... the fight, you rember? I started it.”

“The street brawl? When I got pushed into the street?”

He nodded, taking another step toward .

“I was in the bar, waiting to et with Horace on the castle grounds, just trying to pass the ti. But I also knew you passed by Johnny’s almost every day at the sa ti in midmorning. I saw your hair in the crowd, and I stood up from the barstool so abruptly that it fell over and landed on soone’s foot. He thought the man standing next to him had stepped on him, so he pushed him. And then the fight started.”

“And you ran outside—”

“And caught you right before you broke your damn ankle. Touched you. I felt it then. I’d had a feeling what I was feeling was the mate bond, but... that cented it for .” He took another pained step forward, shaking with effort.

“Troy, you need to sit down!”

“You’ve been fighting against everyone, and everything, your entire life, Maeve. I know you can’t feel the mate bond. I understand your hesitation to believe that we are actually mates. But I feel it. I know it in my soul that you are it for . For always. I died on that beach knowing I had gotten everything I ever wanted, and that my MATE would be caring for my children. I was okay with that. I didn’t fight against death because of it.”

“Stop—”

“Surrender, Maeve.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong. Maybe I was wrong about the curse, okay? You’re twenty-one now. You should have your powers, and you don’t, right? You haven’t attempted to shift yet, and I don’t think you should until we get you ho--”

“And Ernest’s dream ca true when... when Gemma—”

“I know,” he said softly, his hands shaking from pain as he gripped my shoulders. “But we have one of the moonstones. That’s enough for now. You need to go ho, Maeve. We need to just... see what happens.”

“My mom... sothing is wrong—”

“We’re going to fix it.”

“I—”

“I’m going to fix it. I promise. I’m going to get you back to them. I promised you that a long ti ago.” He leaned his forward and rested his forehead against mine as he closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. He leaned further down, his breath tickling my ear and the side of my neck.

I shivered from the sensation; it felt like it had been such a long ti since he’d had his hands on .

“Maeve?” He said my na like a whisper.

“Yeah?”

He kissed my neck, then my shoulder, his teeth grazing my skin and sending an electric sensation through my core. He was holding onto for support, easing down onto the couch. The kiss beca intense as he reached up and tangled his fingers in my hair. When his other hand ca down to cup my breast, I pulled away from the kiss, grabbing his face between my hands.

“You are seriously injured!” I hissed.

“Not injured enough to prevent from doing this!” He pulled my hair, not even to hurt , but enough to expose my neck to him again, his mouth lingering just above my skin. Oh, I wanted him. I wanted him in more ways than one. And I knew what he wanted from . He wanted to surrender. To finally submit to him. To accept what he believed as fact.

So, I did.

And if anyone had co into the tent, they would have found us in a very compromising situation.

Troy had on his lap, my dress hiking up over my waist as I rode him, trying with all of might to be gentle. He held close, kissing my chest and neck and running his hands down my back.

He reached up to touch my cheek, running his fingers along my jaw. “I ant what I said on the beach. We’re going to get married. You’re going to my wife,” he said in a gravely, strained voice. I grabbed my hips, guiding my movents and forcing to slow my pace.

“I-I know,” I panted, on the edge of my own release. “I want that too, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he groaned, closing his eyes. I kissed him softly, my lips barely brushing his. “Maeve?”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no–not at all...” he inhaled deeply, then paused as if catching his breath. He wrapped in a close embrace, trembling slightly as he held still.

“Troy, what’s–”

“I don’t have a ring for you. I’ll get you one.”

“That doesn’t matter to , you know I don’t wear jewelry!”

“I’m going to mark you. I want your permission–”

“Think—think about what that would an, Troy, before—”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s—it’s not a no?”

He bit down, hard, and I closed my eyes.

Fireworks erupted over my skin. All of my senses seed to heighten for a mont, making dizzy and driving my pleasure over the edge. I moaned, partly from the pain of the bite but also at the feeling of him inside of , unable to hold back any longer.

Before I could stop myself I had his skin between my teeth. I felt like an animal, feral, burning with uncontrollable desire.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like with your mate? Why didn’t I know for sure?

I bit down, leaving my mark on him, forever.

#

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