“My boy! It's so good to have you home.”
Boy, he'd said. He looked to be my age.
“It's good to be home,” Dal said warmly as he hugged the King back. “How are you, Ava?”
“I'm good.” He smacked Dal on the shoulder. “But you... you are better than good, aren't you?” He grinned from Dal to me. “And you must be the reason why.”
“Your Majesty.” I bowed.
“Come here, let me get a look at you.” The King waved me forward.
I stepped up and faced him.
“My consort, Ravyn Arandel, Your Majesty,” Dalsharan introduced me.
King Avamael stared me in the eye as if searching for something, then made a satisfied sound and nodded. “Goddess-touched. Clear as day. You are a miracle, my boy.” He patted my shoulder as he had done to Dal. “Welcome home.”
For some reason, that touched me deeply, and I had to blink away some stray moisture as I bowed again. “Thank you very much, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, we're in private, call me Avamael.” He leaned in to add, “Just don't tell anyone about it.”
I made a shocked bark of laughter that had him chuckling.
“Ava,” Dal chided, “you're giving him too much too soon.”
“I am, eh?” The King looked back at the Hawk Lord. “And you haven't? Consort in two days, so I've heard. I believe that's the fastest courtship ever recorded.”
“I saw his soul,” Dalsharan said simply.
King Avamael's expression softened. “Yes, I know. It's hard to resist the pure ones, isn't it?”
“He's not so pure anymore,” Dal said darkly. “He has a piece of me inside him now.”
“Ach, Dal.” Avamael shook his head. “When are you going to get over that shit?”
Dal made a rumbling growl.
“Maybe you can help him with that, Ravyn,” the King said to me.
“I'm trying, Your Majesty—I mean, Avamael. I think we've made some headway.”
Avamael laughed at the glowering Dal. “I think you have, my boy! I think you have. Look at him, he's pouting. You've turned the savage beast into a man.”
“I'm sorry, Your Majesty,” I sank back into formality since I was about to disagree with him, “but I must protest. It's true that my lord has great passion that can overwhelm him at times, but he controls it in front of his soldiers. He's the best warlord there is. Fair, wise, and strong. Everyone in his army respects him greatly. He has never been a beast. A beast cannot pick when and how to release its rage. Dal is a man who struggles with his beast.”
Dal's eyes went wide as the King gaped at me.
“You've misunderstood me, Ravyn,” the King said gently. “It is his struggle that I speak of, though perhaps not as articulately as you just have. I meant no offense when I called him a beast. It's not an insult for us fae; the Beasts are our other halves. We revere them nearly as much as our goddess. To struggle with our beast, as Dal does, is common and there is nothing shameful in it. They magnify our emotions and force us to experience life in a simpler way that can tempt the fae in us. Tempt us to terrifying hatred and profound love. You're right, Dalsharan Arandel is a great warlord and a great man. I count him as one of my closest friends. And as a friend, I've seen Dal set his beast loose. I've seen the fury take him. But now I see that fury fading and it's clear why. I'm grateful to the Goddess for sending you to him—a man to defend our defender. Take care of our Hawk Lord for me.”
“Yes, Sire,” I said fervently.
“Good man.” He smacked my cheek. “Now, I suppose we should attend this party since it's for you.”
“Thank you. I'm honored.”
“We are honored to have a Valorian,” the King said gleefully. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, then looked around. “Now, where did I put that damn crown?”
Dalsharan lifted a crown of golden feathers. In addition to a band of feathers, like the circlet (no points means no crown evidently) that the Princess wore, there were feathers set at angles, pointing up from the base to form triangular points around the band. Within those points were set trillion-cut jewels that matched the one in Dal's circlet. I realized they also matched the Hawk Soul Stone.
Dal handed the crown to Avamael. “Did you have to invite all of Varalorre?”
“I only invited the Birds,” the King huffed as he took the crown and shoved it on his head, not bothering to smooth his hair back first.
“Well, at least that's something,” Dal grumbled.
“But there is one thing I need to tell you—warn you about, rather. Something I just learned today after the Royals arrived,” Avamael said grimly.
“What?” Dal frowned at his king—our king, I mean.
“He's here. He came with the Eagle.”
“Why would the Eagle King bring him?!” Dalsharan growled.
“Because Jaxon is the Eagle's latest toy,” King Avamael said gently.
Jaxon. Fuck. I stared at my lover and watched him swing through several emotions—fury, disgust, pain. Up rose that beast we were just discussing.
“But you've got a Valorian,” I said brightly to Dal. “Don't I trump a toy?”
Avamael looked back and forth between us, waiting for Dalsharan to answer.
“Come here.” Dal held a hand out to me.
I took it and let him pull me to him.
He kissed me on each cheek, over the claws, and said, “Yes, you are far greater than a toy. And I'm proud to have you with me tonight.”
I grinned broadly. “Then let's go show your ex what he's missing.”
“Indeed,” Dalsharan said. Then he bowed to our king. “After you, Your Majesty.”
Avamael chuckled and muttered to himself as he led the way out of the library, “Goddess-touched. No doubt about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The ballroom went silent when the King was announced, then he stepped into the room. Dalsharan held me back when I moved to follow him. He watched until the King was seated on his throne, up on a dais at the far end of the room, and then removed his hand from my chest. We moved up into the doorway. A uniformed man standing there looked at us, did a double-take, and then bowed deeply.
“Hawk Lord,” he murmured, “it's an honor to have you back with us.”