“This human has given us a child?” he said.
“Better.” Maeve’s tongue ran over her lips. “A woman.”
Cuan’s heart sank further. A human child was at least a treasure to be cooed over and cosseted. All children were blessings, and no fae—from the most refined seelie sidhe to the wildest water horse—would ever harm one.
But an adult human, one not raised under the protection of a fae court…that was another matter.
“And no mere wisp of a girl, either,” Mauve went on. “This one is plump and well-aged, rich with experience. Can you not already taste the intoxicating scent of her blood?”
There was something new in the air of the sidhean. His nose was less sensitive in man form, but Cuan could still detect a faint, alluring scent drifting down the stone corridor. The elusive aroma curled around his mind, awakening his deepest animal instincts. He had a sudden urge to drop to four paws, to race ahead to find the source of that irresistible call…
What in the name of the Shining Ones is wrong with me?Cuan shook himself, hoping that Maeve hadn’t noticed his momentary lapse into a dumb beast.
Then again, perhaps it hadn’t been his lesser side taking over. From Maeve’s half-parted lips and glowing faemarks, she was just as enraptured by that alien scent.
“Delicious, is it not?” Maeve drew in a deep, appreciative breath. “Already every fae in my court clamors to be the first to taste her. I shall claim that for myself, of course, but after that…I am minded to play a little game.”
Maeve’s tone of voice sent a chill down Cuan’s spine. When the high sidhe played, it went poorly for the game-pieces involved. Perhaps it was his tainted blood, but he had never seen the appeal of such past-times.
That was the real reason he absented himself from the court as often as he could. Cruelty directed at himself, he could endure…but cruelty directed at others was another matter.
He set his shoulders, reminding himself that he was as much high sidhe as he was phouka. If he was to be seen as more than a mere beast, he had to adopt the manners of the nobility.
Still, he could not help wishing that he had handed over the changeling to the sidhean guards and retreated back into the woods.
“Come.” Maeve drew him further into the sidhean, in the direction of the central hall at the heart of the mound. “Let us have some sport.”