She felt him tense underneath her, gathering his strength. His wings spread wide. With one powerful leap, he leapt into the air.
The world fell away. Cathy crouched low over his neck, his golden mane streaming around her. He climbed higher and higher, until even the great oak was no bigger than a matchstick. Cathy looked down into the vast gulf beneath her dangling feet, and felt no fear. Aodhan would never let her fall.
Exhilaration bubbled through her like champagne. She let go of Aodhan’s mane, stretching her own arms out like wings. She laughed aloud in sheer joy, wind streaming through her fingers.
Aodhan’s back surged underneath her, rising and falling like ocean waves. Linked as they were, it was no effort to keep her balance. Their bodies moved as one in constant, silent dialog; a private, wordless language of pressure and touch and heat.
Rose petals swirled in their wake. Aodhan’s horn glowed like a golden beacon, leaving a fading trail in the darkness. On impulse, Cathy pressed her palms to his neck, concentrating. She opened further to the bond, sending him everything she felt. Awe at his strength, joy at their union… and love. So much love.
Matching love poured back to her. Their power amplified, like light reflecting between two mirrors. Aodhan’s horn brightened, shifting from gold to pure, brilliant white. Her armor brightened too, every rose shining as though made of stars.
Together, they blazed across the sky, trailing light. Aodhan looped and turned, spiraling ever outward, until that glimmering aurora formed a shape, a sign: A white rose.
Their symbol, hung in the sky for all to see. A banner, and a warning.
We are here,that shining rose said, to unseelie and seelie alike. We are here, and we are powerful, and we are free. This land is under our protection. Do not risk our wrath.
When they’d formed the last glowing petal, Aodhan slowed, his horn dimming. Cathy could sense him flagging, having to draw more of their shared strength to stay in the air. With the lightest of touches, she turned his head toward home.
They spiraled down, landing on a platform set high in the oak’s branches. Aodhan transformed as she slid off his back, turning to catch her in his arms. She pressed against him, armor melting away.
“You’re tired,” she murmured. “We shouldn’t have stayed up so long.”
“Woman, you can keep me up all night.” His hands slid down her curves. “And I intend to carry you a little further.”
Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms. Cathy laughed, clinging to his neck as he strode for the trunk. The tree had already opened a doorway, welcoming them home. Aodhan stepped through it—and stopped dead.
“What?” Cathy twisted round to see what had startled him, and gasped. “Oh.”
The bedchamber had changed. The books were still there, of course, but now a wide bed stretched out from the wall, piled high with soft green pillows. Oak leaves and roses decorated the headboard and bed frame; formed from wood, but so perfect in every detail that Cathy half-expected the petals to stir in the soft breeze from the open windows. Tiny motes of light sparkled in the air like rainbow fireflies, casting a soft, ever-shifting radiance.
Aodhan rolled his eyes, glaring at the trunk of the tree. “Oh, so now you can make a bigger bed?”
Branches shifted outside the room. Leaves stirred, whispering together like guilty children.
Cathy giggled. “Thank you, oak.” She paused, a new thought striking her. “Um, not that we’re not grateful, but is it possible for you to give us a little privacy? Maybe until morning?”
“Late morning,” Aodhan clarified. His fingers tightened possessively on her hip. “Preferably noon, in fact.”
Apparently the oak was capable of selectively ignoring what was going on in a particular part of its branches. Cathy couldn’t have said precisely what had changed, but there was a definite shift in the air; a sense of some vast, intangible presence politely turning its attention elsewhere.
“That’s a relief,” Aodhan muttered. “I was beginning to worry that I’d grown an enormous pervert. Some things do not need an audience.”
“What about the books?” Cathy teased. “They’re still watching.”
“At this precise point in time, I am completely uninterested in books.” He laid her on the bed, kissing down her neck. “Never, ever tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secret,” Cathy caught her breath as his teeth grazed her throat, “is safe with me.”
There was no need to rush. He undressed her slowly, exposing her body bit by bit, stopping to worship every inch of her skin. She did the same with him, lingering despite the growing need pounding through her veins.
She claimed him with hands and lips and tongue, as he did her, until they were both on fire, every touch a torment and a delight. When neither of them could take any more, Aodhan rose to his knees. She started to lie back, opening her legs, but he pulled her up instead.
“Like this,” he whispered.
He guided her to straddle him—not him on top, or her, but face to face. And then he was there at last, right where she needed him. He kissed her, tongue opening her lips as his hard length pushed into her wet heat. Cathy cried out, clutching at his back, riding his body.
This was another kind of dance, no less exhilarating than their wild flight through the sky. Another silent dialog, words spoken in driving thrusts and clenching shudders: Mine, and Yours, and Yes.