Aodhan held up the jeans. They sagged in his hands, nearly entirely split apart at the crotch.
The alicorn’s eyebrows shot up. “What in the name of the Horned One happened to these?”
“Ah.” Cuan cleared his throat. “I did.”
“Serves me right for asking,” Aodhan muttered. “Brace yourselves, everyone.”
With a casual flick, he tossed the jeans into the circle.
There was a brief, extremely unpleasant noise.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Aodhan said brightly, as tiny burning fragments of denim swirled around him. “Still want me to try that on the human?”
“Absolutely,” Cuan said, busy patting out smoldering embers on his leggings, “not.”
Tamsin slapped at a stray spark on her own clothes. Cuan had moved lightning-fast, protecting her from the worst of the blast with his own body, but her ballgown was still speckled with fragments of ash.
“So much for that idea,” she said. “Cuan. We don’t have any other choice. You know what we have to do.”
She’d expected him to look at least a little pleased—if conflicted—but his face set in lines like death. He looked as though she’d suggested that he stride out and throw himself on Morcant’s blade there and then.
“Yes,” Cuan said, tone bleak. He turned to Motley. “If I have ever been a friend to you, I beg you, help me now. Take Tamsin and flee. If you portal as often as you are able, you may be able to stay one step ahead of—”
“No!” Tamsin couldn’t understand why he was being so dense. “Cuan, you know that’s not what I meant. The mate bond. We have to mate. Now.”
“Aaaaand that’s my cue to leave,” Aodhan announced, turning on his heel.
“No.” Cuan caught the alicorn shifter’s sleeve. “Stay. I cannot offer you anything in return, unless my undying gratitude can reach from beyond the grave, but I beg you to remain. We may yet have need of your magics.”
Aodhan gave him a flat look. “I do not do sex rituals.”
Cuan let out a faint, pained breath, like the ghost of a laugh. “That will not be required, I promise you.”
“What could we possibly need Aodhan for? Uh, no offense,” Tamsin added hastily, throwing the alicorn an apologetic glance.
He waved it off, scowl deepening. “Believe me, it is my greatest desire in life to not be needed. All this drama is seriously cutting into my reading time, you realize.”
Despite his words and grumpy expression, he stayed. The mage looked as though he would rather be anywhere else in any realm…but he stayed.
Aodhan really isn’t as self-centered as he likes to pretend. I wonder why he acts so cranky?
It wasn’t the moment to ponder the alicorn’s motivations. Tamsin turned back to Cuan. “I thought you said the mating ritual just required us to exchange vows while we, uh, you know. We can do that now, right?”
“No.” Cuan’s voice was hoarse, barely audible. “We cannot.”
“Why not? It solves everything, doesn’t it? Surely Morcant wouldn’t be able to just carry off another fae’s mate, prince or not.”
“Even the princes must respect the sanctity of the mate bond.” Cuan looked down at her, his face shadowed. She couldn’t read his wolf-gold eyes at all. “As must I.”
“I don’t understand.” Tamsin clenched her fists in frustration. “You aren’t making any sense, Cuan!”
He drew in a deep breath, and let it out again, slowly. He took her hands in his own. His expression was no longer grim. Just calm, and weary, and very, very certain.
“Tamsin,” he said. “I promised that I would never again ask you to take me as your mate. I am unseelie. I cannot break a vow.”
Stupid faeries and their stupid magic rules! Tamsin thought savagely. She gripped Cuan’s wrists so hard that her knuckles ached.
“You’re not asking me,” she said. “I’m asking you. Be my mate, Cuan.”