Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,57
Nothing more than friendship was welcome, but it bloomed all the same.
Supernatural drama. Honestly. What a mess.
“All I’m saying is that while I might not like it, it’s not unheard of,” Elijah carried on, tensed as he tossed another card on the table. Our eyes met fleetingly, and I flinched when I noticed his narrowed pupils, thin black slits in a sea of fire, the dragon inside trying to claw its way out, fighting the collar that bound him in his human flesh. When he next spoke, his voice had deepened an octave. “It’s not uncommon for a female to take… other mates. We might not be a pack or a clan or whatever, but we’re bonded, you and I. You’re the brother I chose. In a sense, you are my clan, and fated mates can sometimes bond with the entire—”
“This is nonsense,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and slapping another card down. Elijah swept them back to him with a snarl.
“Can you stop being a fucking cock for two seconds and listen to what I’m trying to say?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Avery glancing our way, and Elijah took a moment to compose himself. When his gaze finally snapped back to mine, his pupils had rounded out, the inner dragon contained.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” he demanded, posture easing for the sake of our audience, his voice gravelly and low. I shook my head, knowing for a fact that it wasn’t easy for him. He had no control over fate, same as the rest of us. Elijah didn’t get to decide if his mate was a one-dragon girl or not, and I imagined that was devastating. But he’d concede to her, no doubt, because of their bond—and that certainly wasn’t fair either.
“I appreciate that, my friend,” I said with a sigh. “Really, I do. I appreciate the difficulties in all this, but my loyalties are to us. I would never compromise that.”
Elijah scrubbed at his cheek, looking more exhausted than he had in months. “Us includes her now. I’ve accepted it… You should too.”
The weight of his statement hit like a freight train—so much so that I hadn’t even noticed we had company.
“Room for one more?” the fae trilled, a wall of green materializing almost out of nowhere at my side and easing onto an empty stool like he belonged here. Even Elijah flinched, his shifter senses so entrenched in our conversation that the newcomer had gotten the jump on him as well. Not good. In a place like this, no one should ever be able to sneak up on you.
I had met more than my fair share of fae over the centuries, especially living in Ireland where the portals between our worlds were so frequent and rooted. Ancient passages stretched from the emerald isle to the Otherworld, and in my experience, most fae were uptight bastards who deserved a good beating just to bring them back to reality. Unfortunately, pummeling a fae had its own set of difficulties. Fast as a vampire. Durable as a shifter. Powerful as a mage and cunning as a trickster. The fair folk were the predator of predators—but at least these collars balanced things out.
After all, never in my long life had I seen a fae speckled with bruises and scabs like a Jackson Pollock painting. Their healing abilities were a mystery to me, but I had always assumed that like shifters and vampires, they regenerated a healthy form almost instantaneously. This one had seen more action in his one day than I had in my seven months. All angles and handsome fairy charm, the bruises did nothing to detract from his natural allure, his messy light brown hair and his impish green gaze. The only positive he had going for him at the moment in my books was that he’d said something to really piss Deimos off, a feat neither of us had accomplished—had to give credit where credit was due.
In fact, whatever this smirking fae had whispered in the demon’s ear must have still stung, because there was Deimos glaring at us from his table. Miserable, pathetic little shit… Knowing someone outside of his posse had royally pissed him off gave me a special little thrill, but we certainly didn’t need the extra attention. This fae brought heat with him, first from the staff and now our fellow inmates.
As he glanced between Elijah and me, we offered a stony silence by way of greeting—unwelcome