The Heartbreak Show (Bound By Ravens #3)

19. CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Glenna Lonan

Once in the shadows behind the large trunk, Cian spun on me.

My stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”

His lips crushed mine in answer. A ravenous, devouring kiss that knocked me off balance. Before I stumbled over, Cian circled an arm around my waist and then walked me backward a couple of steps until my back rested against the tree’s trunk. Shadows darkened overhead from his parasol and everything, but us, was blocked from sight.

The forest, our friends on the other side of the enormous oak, all fell away. It was only me and him and whatever this crackling desperation was arcing between his parting mouth and mine. The intensity growing brighter, hotter as the dance of our lips grew wilder, as the claiming sweep of our tongues became more fevered.

In the back of my mind, a voice was screaming to ask why the sudden need. We were terrible at openly expressing our fears and vulnerabilities with words, though. Both he and I communicated in physical touch—and why I missed Filena fiercely. Aye, I saw her more these past three weeks than I had all last year, but I no longer held her while we slept. Expressing through touch was also why Cian and I had savored casual relationships to feel more emotionally whole, more balanced. And it dawned on me that he might be panicking. Seren was a weapon used against him by his da and the Fiachnas.

But this kiss, the slow, deep grind of his hips, the twining desire in our panting breaths . . . I was utterly lost in him. Still, we needed to slow down.

As if reading my mind, he pulled away a few inches, his chest heaving against mine.

“My beautiful ruination, my gorgeous Gent of Fem . . . ” The words were feather soft against my skin. “I fell in love with you the night I found you teaching Filena how to ward against nightmares.”

My pounding heart stilled for a breathless beat.

He tugged me back here, in the middle of a conversation, just to share this?

I blinked as the memories came spilling back.

Filena and I were fourteen. Barry had arrived two weeks earlier, his crusty, sweet-tooth addicted presence signaling to West Tribe that Filena was magical. My blood oath sister grew far too jumpy as a result, suddenly plagued by nightmares again too, terrified anytime a gov wanted to speak to her. I couldn’t wing whip the Fiachnas and elders to protect her and so I created a faerie ritual just for my best friend. One I knew would make her feel powerful instead of exposed and helpless.

Stripped down to our thin, fraying underpinnings, with partially plucked daisies woven into our wild tresses and dangling from our wrists and ankles, I hummed melodies while we danced to ask the moon for what our hearts craved most. I had teased that I danced for satin hair ribbons. She declared she danced for a dessert made by the gods. But I suspected, even then, that she had danced for my brother while I had danced for hers.

Hours later, before falling into bed, I made her promise that if the nightmares returned, she would visit the field of moon bright daisies in her mind and dance to the true song in her heart instead of reeling to fear’s melody. And she agreed, asking me to hum a tune to her while she drifted to sleep morning after morning and any time she woke from a terror.

Did Rhylen hum melodies to help her sleep now? Did he know?

I blew out a slow breath.

Six years.

Cian had been in love with me for six years .

I played with a lock of long blonde hair and slowly met his light gray eyes.

“I loved you,” he continued, his voice cracking, “when I believed no one could truly love me . I loved you when I believed hope in the impossible was only for fools who wished on stars and that a future with you was a fever dream.”

Tears lined my lashes.

“I loved you,” he whispered again, “when I couldn’t look at you directly because I . . . I would have shattered if I confirmed the slightest whisper of your returned affection.”

The heady poetry of those confessing lips lingering on mine dizzied down my body. Was this part of his magic as a gancanagh or—my eyes rounded.

Oh gods . . .

These were goodbyes. In case something happened to him on Seren. These were the kisses and confessions of a lover marching to their death.

“Cian—"

“Marry me, Glenna Lonan,” he rushed out. “Right here. With only the stars and this tree as witness.”

The gnawing fear in my gut tightened.

Three weeks, the amount of time he had known full freedom in his life. The thought of taking away his hard-won agency sickened me.

“If we speak binding vows,” I croaked out, “would the raven mark make you feel like an indentured again?”

His fingers trailed down my cheek in a reverent caress. “I’m a demi-god, darlin’. Do the fae laws about mate binding with a mortal still apply to us?”

“You’re enough of a demi-mortal for the Kingdom of Carran and other fae to see you as my property—” I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re afraid of Seren.”

“I am yours, Glenna. Feck, Seren. Feck the Carrion Crime Syndicate, my da, and the Kingdom of Carran too.” His thumb brushed across my lower lip. “I am yours,” he said more softly. “Let those feckers know I belong only to you.”

He meant it. He was actually asking me to take away his self-ownership, before both of our races. “Would you later resent me?”

Cian reared back slightly. “You think I want to marry you only for protection?”

“Gods, no. I just worry this is happening too fast. You deserve more than three weeks of self-ownership after a lifetime of none.” I drew in a shaky breath. “What if I do something that reminds you of when—”

“Fair.” A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Rhylen was a terrifying feathered bastard of a fae master. Gran, though?” He pretended to shudder. “That dirty old hen is a monster.”

I hummed my agreement to play along, but mostly to give my heart a moment to settle down. My eyes cinched shut in a long blink, to quiet my nerves. And, in that calming hush, my pulse began fluttering in excitement.

Cian desired to mate bond with me.

And stars above how I ached to bind my life with Cian’s until our souls took their final breaths . . .

“As my last act of self-ownership”—he gave a serious dip of his head—“I promise to make you feel guilty about forcing me into this sham marriage of cow heist convenience, but only if you bring Cordelia into our wagon.”

I sputtered a laugh.

“I also promise to make you feel the shame of owning the sexy, sparkly arse you clearly want to bite and kiss forever, but only if you use George to commit fashion crimes against me.”

A scoff sassed from my loosening chest. “And waste his time tormenting you when he could be finding fashion treasures for me?”

“What about the orphans in need of clothing, Glenna?” Cian twirled the parasol over his shoulder, the one George thieved to complete Cian’s Heartbreak Show outfit. “Do you ever think about the poor, gloveless orphans?”

Arsehole. But two could play this game.

“I’ll marry you.” Cian’s eyes rounded in relief. “But, when I win the most Love-Talker sacrifices tomorrow night, I get George’s services for a full month instead of three weeks. And,” I lilted, my grin slow and smug, “you’ll be my pet in bed for one week. Maybe I’ll leash you too.”

He burst into laughter. “You win.”

I gasped in genuine surprise “You’ll sacrifice a whole month of George’s fashion services to be my pet—”

“Feck, just for one day.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Liar.”

If I were smart, I would call this bargain. But I knew he was baiting me, to prove that he trusted me.

The boyish tilt to his devilish grin widened and my eyes thinned farther. “It’s good to have dreams, darlin’,” he cooed with a dainty shrug. “But when I win tomorrow’s Heartbreak Show, three different times you will scream in wild ecstasy—”

“—speaking of dreams—”

“Oh, Cian!”

My eyes flew wide. He actually screamed his name, as if a woman . . . as if climaxing.

“You’re my sex go—”

I smothered his mouth. “Shhh, you eejit!” I could barely get the words out from laughing so hard. I was no prude, but if the oak chose to stop protecting our conversation out of secondhand embarrassment, not that I’d blame it, I would prefer to perish where the green earth touched my feet right now than face the fellas ever again. Or my brother.

Cian pulled my hand from his mouth, his laughter matching mine. “And,” he said in-between breaths, “I’ll marry you.”

“You think I will now after that lackluster performance?”

“Be a good little pastry shrew,” he murmured, nipping my bottom lip, “and marry this poor brazen heifer.”

Brazen heifer?

I wanted to roll my eyes so hard. Except, it was a magnificent insult and I was fecking pissed the riddling eejit upstaged my efforts to outwit and banter him— again .

“Just so we’re clear, as my property, I would tear the wings off anyone on Seren who dared touch you, Cian Lonan .”

He softly snorted. “That so, Glenna Merrick ?”

“Glennie Mer?” I tried on for size.

“Glenna and Cian Lonan-Merrick . . . people will come far and wide to experience heartbreak by the talented Little Glen Blackbirds of Enduring Power.”

Now it was my time to throw my head back with a loud laugh. The fae loved a clever riddled name and ours together were storybook perfection.

“Well, Cian Lonan-Merrick”—I sighed for dramatic effect—“I guess I’ll own you for all eternity and, when I win tomorrow, George’s exclusive fashion services for one month too.”

“Mmm, the way you’ll scream my name in gratitude Glenna Lonan-Merrick . . .”

“Lady of Man,” I taunted, “bets.”

“Gent of Fem,” he drawled back, “bets.”

I lifted Cian’s hand to my mouth and kissed his fingers. “Life partners?”

“Life partners,” Cian confirmed.

We were actually marrying, right here, right now. When we returned to the meeting on the other side of the trunk, it would be as bonded mates.

The air around us thickened in heady anticipation. And I fell into the pools of silver holding mine as our smiles faded into longing.

Then I spoke, the ancient vows light on my tongue.

“I, Glenna Lonan-Merrick, mate bind myself to you, Cian Lonan-Merrick, my chosen mate, for as long as my soul exists. I put you before all others and will protect you with my life.” The last part males spoke, but I was his Gent of Fem and couldn’t resist. “I belong to you, life partner,” I continued, blinking back tears, “for now and for all eternity.”

Warmth tingled down my arm and settled on my wrist. The sight of a raven in flight marking my skin soared in my thundering heart. Cian’s breath trembled, his muscles tight. This was ownership for him too. I belonged to him now.

Per tradition, he lifted the mark on my wrist to his lips, to speak to my pulse.

“I, Cian Lonan-Merrick,” he began, pressing a kiss to my raven mark, “mate bind myself to you, Glenna Lonan-Merrick, my heart’s obsession, my chosen mate, for as long as my soul exists. I put you before all others and will protect you with my life.” He dropped his voice to an intimate whisper. “I belong to you, life partner, for now and for all eternity.”

The raven mark appeared on his wrist two beats later and Cian let out a blushed laugh. A sound of pure joy that brightened his entire countenance.

Stars, he was so beautiful, it ached.

“I have never felt so wanted or loved in my life,” he confessed, sucking in a tight breath. But a tear fell anyway as he quietly laughed again. “I wore a silk gown on my wedding day.”

And, once more, my heart broke for Cian Lonan-Merrick.

“I love you,” I whispered into the barest of kisses. “I love you so much it hurts.” My mouth trailed along his jaw. “Tomorrow, I will love you even more.” I kissed down the column of his throat. “And, when I walk my last”—my tongue flicked the throbbing pulse in his neck—"I will be so full of love for you, I will scream, ‘Oh, Cian!’”

“Don’t leave out the best part, Glennie Mer.”

“ Enduring One,” I chastised, my voice falling flat, “patience. Maybe in another lifetime, if you win, you’ll hear the rest.”

His eyes squinted.

The corner of my mouth hooked up.

Then Cian moved to kiss me, to prove I’d sing his name. And sexy demi-god before me, did I want to rip the gown from his delicious body and do just that. But, after newly bonding, he’d win. My primal state wouldn’t be able to control herself and he knew it.

I ducked under his arm and shifted with a cawing laugh.

“Bloody Ravens,” he swore as I flew away, the smile in his voice following me around the gigantic trunk to where the lads waited.

I shifted back beside Cordelia, plucking her head from the stand to cradle in my arms.

“So,” Owen began, looking over his shoulder, “did you bury the body?”

“Poor lass,” Corbin lamented, “slain in her mortal prime.”

Still so sweet they thought me capable of murder.

Cian circled into the group a second later, brushing blonde locks from his shoulder and twirling the parasol as if nothing were amiss. Until he saw me, with Cordelia tucked in my arms—my ward against arrogant halflings—and he sputtered a laugh. I tried, and failed, to not grin like an eejit in reply. We were ridiculous.

And so fecking happy we were near to bursting.

Four pairs of eyes darted between us.

Schooling his features, Cian dipped his head to me in greeting. “Tart nag.”

“Foppish floozy.”

“Well . . .” Cian turned to Owen and Corbin, like he hadn’t abducted me mid-sentence in Caledona Wood to marry in secret—such a fae thing to do, too. “Are you cocks ready to steal back a faerie cow?”

“Aye, I’m still your Mr. Delaney,” Owen offered with open arms.

Cian’s gaze slid to Corbin’s with a pout. “Mr. Renwick?”

“Fine, lass.” Corbin sighed. “Let’s steal back your birthright, Miss Merrick, and break your generational curse.”

“Mrs. Lonan-Merrick to you, sir,” Cian replied with a humorous attempt at an eastern cities accent.

Those four pairs of eyes first flickered to Cian’s wrist, then mine. The silence that followed was deafening. Then everyone was talking and laughing and grinning and congratulating us all at once.

“Ladies!” Cian eventually hollered, also in a prim but wobbly eastern cities accent. He clapped his hands in a signal to silence. “Hush now so the pretty elf with the stick can talk.” He batted his eyes at Kalen and giggled. “Meet me behind the warehouse later, sir?”

Kalen arched a midnight blue brow. “Sure, love. Speaking of warehouses . . .” he gestured for us to study the map he was drawing in the dirt. We gathered around, leaning in closer when he pointed to a circle where I surmised Stellar Winds Casino once stood. “Here’s the plan.”