Page 22 of Fae's Mate
He trails off, reluctant to continue, but I encourage him, desperate to learn as much as I can. Anything that will help us get home.
“But what?”
After taking a deep breath, he answers.
“There hasn’t been a recorded mating bond for several generations now. No high fae has been blessed with a mate for a long time.”
“Then how are there still high fae?”
He smirks. “A mating bond is not needed to produce offspring. A fae may enjoy many lovers in their lifetime. My sister and I, for example, have different mothers, but… for a mate, a fae would forsake all others.”
It all seems rather pointless to me. Why all the fuss over mates? If the fae are comfortable having many lovers, and if mates aren’t required in order to have children, then why bother? But then I realise I am asking this of a culture who refuses to give each other their names, and I shrug it off. There is so much I don’t understand about the fae, I doubt I could ever learn it all, even if I were to stay here, which I have absolutely no plans to do. After I have been silent for a while, the High Lord speaks again.
“If you have more questions… you may ask them.” He tells me, and there is a new sincerity in his voice. I turn towards him, and he looks at me as if hewantsme to ask them. Maybe he is enjoying our conversation. I consider how best to ask about magic; if he is willing to answer my questions, then I will keep asking them.
“Do all fae have the same magic abilities?”
He tilts his head, his golden-brown hair shimmering in the fading sunlight with the movement, and it sets my stomach fluttering.
“No… each fae has a specific magic. Usually unique.”
“So, you are the only one with elemental magic?”
“Not elemental, just water...”
With a flick of his wrist, he glances back to the lawn. I gasp and watch in awe as thousands of dew droplets rise from the grass and gather like a sea of shimmering beads. The droplets float towards us and merge into an orb of water between us. Then the ball spins like a fluid crystal for a few moments before the High Lord makes a gesture with his fingers and the water takes shape. The orb flattens, then a swirl of petals flow from the center, until the water resembles a flower.
I can’t help myself. I reach out and touch the sculpted water in front of me, and I’m surprised when it holds its form. A giggle escapes me as I poke the water flower and it simply reforms when I withdraw my finger.
“Impressive,” I murmur, unable to hide the awe in my voice.
“My ancestors could create tidal waves and redirect rivers, even summon a downpour during a drought. But that was before…”
“Before what?” I ask, still mesmerised by the flower glistening between us.
“Before the magic started to die.”
I frown at him, not sure I have heard him right.
“With each generation, the magic weakens. I canfeelit. The magic in Ethea is fading. Soon there won’t be any left.”
A flick of his wrist sends the flower spraying back over the lawn, the dew droplets returning, as if they had never been disturbed. He turns back towards me and there is a sadness in his eyes that echoes in me. I shouldn’t care. This isn’t my realm. What difference should it make to me if the fae have their magic or not? If it weren’t for their magic, I wouldn’t be stuck here.
The sun falls behind the mountains, casting everything in a golden glow. The High Lord watches me so carefully, searching my face for something, and it is so intense it dries my mouth out. Russet eyes churn as they behold me, and my whole-body flushes when I remember touching myself to those eyes earlier.
It’s not uncommon for me to masturbate, but the fact that I did it while thinking of a man I’ve just met is new. Now that I am thinking about it, my core clenches, and my pulse ratchets. I can’t pull my gaze away from him…
“Seki I…” he whispers, taking a step towards me.
Every inch of me is hot and vibrating. I’m powerless to stop myself when my feet take a step forward of their own accord, closing the distance between us. His hand rises to the side of my face, his thumb rubbing along my cheek so gently, it sends a skitter down my spine.
He leans in, his handsome face lowering towards me—or am I leaning towards him? Our lips brush, just a fraction, and I am so full of longing that I’m not sure I’m still breathing. A strong hand curls around to the back of my neck, holding me carefully in place as he presses his lips to mine and my eyes drift shut. His mouth is so warm and inviting that when his tongue dances along the seam of mine, I open for him, welcoming him. His tongue caresses mine and when I kiss him back, a soft groan escapes him.
The sound is my undoing, and I reach for him; one arm sliding around his waist, pulling his firm body flush against mine, the other trailing up his chest, wrapping around the back of his neck and tangling in his thick, long hair. He presses a hand against my lower back as he continues to ravish my mouth and it is my turn to moan.
His lips leave mine, even as I whimper my protest, and he trails kisses along my jaw. Lips brush against my ear. Then he kisses his way down the side of my throat, to the curve of my neck, while all I can do is cling on to him, panting with overwhelming desire.
“Oh Seki,” he murmurs against my skin.
