Free Maythorn's Wish (The Fey Quartet Book 1) by Emily Larkin

me.”
    “For your daughters? But Iv y— ”
    “She’ll receive her wish on her birthday. They all will.”
    Ren was silent a moment. “They have summer birthdays, don’t they?”
    “Hazel first, and then Larkspur. Ivy’s just before midsummer.” Maythorn inhaled a hitching breath. “I wanted it to be now, but the Faerie was displeased and I . . . I was too much a coward to press for it.”
    “Not a coward,” Ren said firmly. “By all the gods! Do you know how much danger you were in? She could have cursed you. Killed you!”
    “I thought it worth the risk. I wanted to be whole again. I wanted Ivy to be whole.” Maythorn’s breath hitched again. She tried to draw away from him.
    Ren’s grip on her tightened. “Why did you run from me?”
    Maythorn squeezed her eyes shut. She struggled to keep her voice steady. “Because you deserve a better wife.”
    “I do? Why?”
    “Because I was going to lie to you.”
    “If I hadn’t known who you were, that’s exactly what you should have done. Of course you mustn’t tell anyone! Gods, Maythorn, can you imagine? If folk knew you’d won Faerie wishes, they’d be out searching for the border tomorrow—and most of them would end up dead! You mustn’t tell anyone .” Ren paused. “Except the Lord Warder. It’s Faerie magic, and he needs to know.”
    Maythorn shrank into herself. “Do you think . . . he’ll expel me?”
    “Dappleward? Of course not. But you may be certain he’ll swear you to silence. He won’t want anyone else trying to win wishes from the Fey.” Ren bent his head. She felt him press a kiss into her hair. “You had no reason to run from me, love.”
    “I’m selfish and greedy, and you deserve better,” she whispered.
    Ren snorted a laugh. “Maythorn, anyone less selfish than you I have yet to meet.” His grip on her eased. One hand found her chin and tilted her face towards him. He kissed her. His mouth was achingly gentle, achingly tender. “I deserve you,” he whispered against her lips. “Only you.”
    Tears gathered in her eyes again.
    “I remember the first time I saw you.” Ren stroked her cheek, then slid his fingers into her hair. “I was nigh on fifteen. I came to Dapple Bend to visit my uncle.”
    “I don’t remember you,” Maythorn whispered, and felt a pang of regret.
    “Why should you?” Ren stroked her hair, running the strands through his fingers. “I fell in love with you that week. Infatuation. You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” His hand stilled. “And then five months later, Gyles beat you half to death.”
    Maythorn tasted blood in her mouth for an instant. She repressed a shudder. “I don’t remember much of that, either.”
    Ren cupped his hand protectively around her head. “When my uncle offered me his forge, you were one of the reasons I took it. I had this foolish idea . . . I thought you might need a husband.”
    “What?” Maythorn stiffened in shock.
    Ren made a sound, part grunt, part laugh. “Infatuation,” he said. “Even after six years.”
    “Ren . . .” She drew back slightly, disturbed.
    “Oh, I got over it quick enough. Got over it the first time I saw you again. Gods, Maythorn! I knew Gyles had hurt you, but I hadn’t realize d— ” Ren’s fingers clenched in her hair, a grip that was almost painful. His voice roughened: “If he’d still been alive, I swear I would have killed him.”
    Maythorn shivered. “Don’t say that,” she whispered.
    Ren’s grip on her hair relaxed. “It’s true.” And then he sighed. “It took me a while, but I learned to see past what Gyles had done to you, and I fell in love with you again. Only, it wasn’t infatuation this time.”
    Maythorn shook her head. “Re n— ”
    “I wanted . . . I hoped . . . to marry you.”
    Maythorn pulled back. Ren’s fingers slid from her hair. “But I was years older than yo u— ”
    “Only six.”
    “And I was crippled! My fac e— ”
    “It wasn’t