But there’d be no bed play when she was reeling from everything that had happened. He would behave himself until she was rested and ready.
He opened the door. The scent of nymph told him several were within, enough to make a covey. The entryway’s forest murals indicated Dryads, tree nymphs.
Actual oaks grew inside the lobby, arching toward a glass cathedral ceiling. Limbs wound through the walls, and a trained branch served as the front desk. Kereny surveyed the fantastical space with her customary poker face, but he detected her wonder.
A long-haired brunette emerged from one of the trees, stepping out of a trunk as if through an open doorway. Kereny’s tension increased, but she hid her shock well.
“Welcome, guests!” The nymph wore traditional garb—a peasant blouse, sheepskin vest, and long skirt—but she likely had a modern phone in her apron pocket. “I’m Iona, the innkeeper, and you must be Kereny and Munro MacRieve.”
Before Kereny corrected her, he said, “Thank you for the welcome.”
“Congratulations on finding each other!” She made no mention of their bedraggled state. This innkeeper had probably seen it all.
As a number of other nymphs surfaced from the room’s trees, Iona said, “These are my daughters.” A total of eight females. Though all were dressed like their mother in brightly colored skirts and white aprons, he could tell each had come from a different father. Nymphs disdained monogamy even more than unmated Lykae.
They were all polite and amenable, yet he sensed an underlying tension in them.
Iona said, “We’ve heard much about you two.”
He’d bet. Nymphs were some of the most accomplished spies in the Lore. Different types could meld with various elements—water, clouds, mountains, trees—and they communicated widely with each other. As his mam used to say, Never tell a clan secret near a puddle or an oak.
One of the daughters told Munro, “You went back in time to save your mate’s life. How romantic.” She sighed. “I can barely get a male to buy me a corsage for a bacchanalia.”
Kereny parted her lips, no doubt to contradict the saving-her-life claim, but then she let it go.
“We understand you haven’t slept in some time,” Iona said. “Dinner will be ready shortly, and we’ve prepared our honeymoon guesthouse for you, the most secluded of our accommodations. Do take warning: many a firstborn has been conceived there.” Iona smiled, and her daughters chuckled.
Kereny’s eyes grew starker. Was it sinking in that she’d be rooming with a Lykae? Technically this was still her honeymoon—with another man.
Iona continued, “Loa wrote that you’re looking for information about the past.”
“Aye.” He explained the basics of the circus, then uneasily awaited her answer. Hell, Iona might say, “I remember you back in the day, Kereny. You were a happy, long-lived mortal with a passel of kids and an adoring husband you loved.”
“I’m sorry, but we only settled here a couple of decades ago. And most of the other immortals in the valley came after us.”
When Kereny seemed to deflate beside him, he asked, “Are there any other nymphs in the forest who might have been here longer?”
“Nymphs don’t enter that forest anymore,” Iona said, giving no explanation. “But Loa texted that she is also on the case, and there’s little the priestess can’t uncover.”
“Thank you,” Kereny murmured.
Munro said, “You should know that we might have unexpected company. We’ve taken steps to cloak ourselves, but Jels will stop at nothing to capture us.”
One of the daughters sneered, “The Conniver.”
Iona’s expression grew strained, and that tension he’d sensed in them increased. “We heard you destroyed the Forgotten’s time-travel gateway. That can’t possibly be true, though?”
“It is.” Would they know about Ariza?
Another daughter said, “I don’t suppose you somehow brought down the entire statue of Tempus?” Each of them seemed to be holding her breath.
“Aye, I knocked it to the ground. The whole temple was raining down around my ears when I—”
Cheers rang out, all the nymphs talking at once: “She’s free!” “At last!” “Thank the gods!”
Iona began to cry. “Thank this wolf! We are in his everlasting debt.”
Kereny asked, “Who is free?”
With tears streaming down her face, Iona said, “My youngest daughter. The Forgotten abducted her from the Cursed Forest a decade ago and sacrificed her to Tempus, her soul trapped by him for all time. We were told by an oracle that only the destruction of the statue would release her. My little one is finally, finally free!”
Munro recalled that cyclone of energy funneling up from the statue’s chest. Had he saved Ariza and her sister from Tempus’s grip as well?
Iona and her daughters hugged each other, but their relief actually increased Munro’s own disquiet. How many Lykae thought of nymphs only as easygoing companions for a roll in the hay, as nameless others? He remembered a male clan elder saying, “A night with a nymph will never be more than a night with a nymph, which means they were made for us to enjoy and forget.”
These females had hopes, dreams, fears. Same as everyone.
Iona used her apron to dry her tears. “Munro MacRieve, we will post watches around the clock. If you have unexpected company in our home, we’ll protect you and your mate with our lives.”
Though he appreciated the offer of the watch, he didn’t count on much protection. The nymphs weren’t warriors. In large-scale conflicts, they’d always remained neutral, refusing to pick sides—yet more reason why they shouldn’t have been targeted by the warlocks.
“My thanks,” he said absently.
“Well, I’m sure you two are ready to be bathed and settled,” Iona said. “After all, you’ve only waited your immortal lifetime for this eve.”
She expected Munro to claim his human mate tonight? Did Kereny think he’d press his suit? To reassure her, he said, “We’re both done in. Sleep is the first order of business.”
The innkeeper glanced from Kereny to him and smiled knowingly. “Uh-huh.”
TWENTY-NINE
If Munro and I were truly in a battle of wills, I might lose.
That was Ren’s first thought when she spied him dressed for dinner, awaiting her as she exited the bathroom. Her second thought: He’s the most devastating male I’ve ever beheld.