Mists of Velvet

will. As soon as it is safe to go back through the cave.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
    “You mean a mortal?” He shrugged. “I thought you knew. You know . . . from our dreams.”
    “No, I mean, why didn’t you tell me you were kin to the king, and to Daegan?”
    “I guess I didn’t think of it. Our . . . common ancestry is not something Bran takes pleasure in. He made a sacrifice for Daegan to be with Isobel, and he was cursed because of it. I think he sees Daegan’s weakness whenever he looks at me.”
    “I see only strength and courage. And those Sidhe eyes that see much more than anyone thinks.”
    He flushed and looked down, then pulled a few blades of grass free from the earth. “You’re one of two people who think I have something in me that might prove helpful in this prophecy.”
    “You speak of the wraith.” He nodded, and Bronwnn felt his emotions, so strong and powerful, all tied with the Shadow Wraith. “You care deeply for him.”
    “I do. Ours isn’t the normal wraith-mortal relationship. In my family, it has always been a female to offer protection. But Keir came to me, and it . . . Well, it works for us.”
    Bronwnn knew little of wraiths, other than that they existed by absorbing emotions and feelings. In shadow form, they could take without knowing. She found herself wondering what the wraith took from Rhys.
    “You should know that Keir and I are inseparable. We . . . share everything. Including women.”
    She should have been alarmed by such an admission, but instead her heart leaped. Suddenly all she could think about was how her adbertos might not keep her from Rhys after all. She had promised the goddess she would mate with the wraith, but if the wraith would share her with Rhys . . .
    “It doesn’t come as a shock to you?”
    She shook her head, daring to imagine how she might still find pleasure in Rhys; how they might stay together. “The ways of Annwyn are not foreign to me. I can accept what mortal women might not be able to.”
    “I don’t think I can share you,” he said quietly. “As much as I love him, as much as I care, I can’t . What I feel for you is more”—he swallowed hard—“more than what I feel for Keir.”
    She stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. “No, not more, but different. Our feelings are different than your bond with the wraith. But our bond is no more special than yours with Keir. You must not think that way, Rhys.”
    He held her hand and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Keir. I want to know about you.”
    “There is nothing more to know. I am a goddess.”
    “You mentioned something about women liking me to fight for them. What did you mean?”
    “In my order, when we come to our sexual maturity, warriors are assembled before us. They fight one another for the honor of mating with us. It is a great pleasure for a goddess to have a male fight for the right to claim her.”
    “And now Cailleach has robbed you of it, by arranging your future with Keir.”
    There was no censure in his voice; only concern. “I will do as I am told.”
    “But you’re sad. I see it in your eyes.”
    “Not about the fighting. But the Shrouding. I wanted that—to be shrouded with my true mate.”
    “Is the Shrouding like the Sidhe fating ceremony, where the wrists and hands are tied?”
    “A bit. But it is more sacred and beautiful. A goddess lives for the night when her mate will lift the golden shroud from her body and claim her. It is a union of the body and soul.”
    “You’ll have that, I swear it,” he said in a hard voice that brooked no objection.
    “No, I won’t.” She gazed at him, showing him everything she felt. “You’re my true mate. I wouldn’t want a Shrouding with anyone other than you. Besides, the shroud can only be given by the Supreme Goddess. She will not bestow it on me, because she does not hold me in esteem. She never has. And now, now she is livid that I gave myself to you.”
    “Just a lowly mortal, right?”
    She shook her head, but he caught her cheek in his palm. “Bronwnn—”
    “No, Rhys. Let us talk no more about it. The Shrouding ceremony is not to be mine.”
    “I’ll get you the damned shroud, and it’ll be me pulling it off you.”
    She smiled and pressed forward, kissing him. “I would like that. Your body climbing over mine, your scent covering me.”
    He made a little growl in his throat and kissed her, slipping his tongue between her lips.