My Mate Can't be a Bird! (I s...

By Amel_under_starlight

44.4K 1K 556

Aelin and Rowan know they're mates the moment they meet. Well, sort of. It's...complicated. --Excerpts-- ... More

1: Soul Connection with a "Homeless Hawk"
2: Loony
3: "Soul Connection" with a Perverted Princess
not an update :(
4: Too Young to be An Evil Stepmother
5: Too Old to be Part of this S*it (Or, The Musings of an Unwilling Groom)
6: I'd Like to Kill My Boss Please (Fenrys extra chapter)
7: My Aunt Can't be a Spider! (but she is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
8: So Many Things that I Wish You Knew
9: Luca, Emrys, and the Groping Incident
10: The Kitchen
11: A disastrous student
12: To the Barrows and beyond!
13: The barrows
14: Let's Pretend this Bond Has A Mind of it's Own
16: Mates are friends, not punching bags
17: A Love Story-Today was a Fairytale (Extra chapter for 8k reads)
18: Keeping Up With the The Blood-Sworn Life(The real extra chapter lol)
19: Storytime
20: Temple
21: Lovers' spat
22: Fae Male Nom-Noms Female, Does Not Reccomend

15: Just Kiss the Girl! Please! Just f****** Kiss the-

1.6K 41 16
By Amel_under_starlight

And you don't know why
But you're dying to try
You wanna kiss girl

The Little Mermaid (1989)

In which Rowan fantasizes about Aelin in all sorts of situations. Now get your head out of the gutter, ya'll, I mean he wants her dead! It's allll he can think about. Really.

This chapter is especially for its muse, Mlnhiws . Here is a Rowan chapter as you wanted, my lovely reader.

Rowan

Aelin was staring at him, turquoise eyes wide with surprise. He'd had no choice but to fly out as soon as the sun rose--it was impossible when his mate was so far away in such a dangerous place.

After such a long time apart, the bond they shared felt like a sharp, incessant tug on his mind, flooding it with images he'd rather not have. It pulled Rowan's eyes to her best features--her lips, her gold-ringed Ashryver eyes, her long slender legs--and all the possibilities of said attractive features. And all of it a primitive attempt to initiate (and Rowan's eye twitched as he realized it)-- less-than-proper activities.

Rowan tried very hard to think about all the dead people right in front of them, for it would be a deep desecration on their souls if anything unseemly happened here. His aunt must certainly want offsprings with this brat. Which made sense. Maeve could stake a valid claim on Terrasen that way.

"Thanks," the Royal Brat deigned to grace him with a reply, "I tried."

Rowan carefully schooled his expression into one of complete neutrality; any flicker of lust and perhaps she could easily use it as an excuse to assault him on Maeve's orders. He didn't know the full extent of Aelin's involvement in this after all. "It took you a full day and night."

"Keeping track? I suppose you missed me."

"No," he felt anger rise within him at this disgusting implication, "I did not."

"No need to be so uptight, it's just a joke."

Rowan took a moment to calm himself, he would not be teased by mere brat. He had to focus on the most the topic at hand: assessing her performance.

It was headache inducing. She barely payed him any attention, preferring instead to stare off and occasionally jump in with rude remarks. However, assessing a recruit's performance was something he was used to, and Rowan let the familiar analytical approach calm his mind. He started with criticism, because she was no novice, and he was rather miffed at how she survived a night in these cursed lands.

(It was such a missed opportunity. In his most irritated moments when he wished to be rid of her, Rowan had been fantasizing about sending her out to the barrows, at night, so that she may die a slow, painful death. To see her survive, it crushed his hopes and dreams. Not that he had any, but it was the principle of the thing.)

Rowan sighed internally as he reached the end and began to pass judgement. He said in his best imitation of an impartial man, "I shall be generous enough to judge you fairly. Now considering everything you did:

"You passed through the barrows, while not exactly following the rules. You didn't use magic, but not weapons either. You did not use weapons although they were in your possession, therefore you will not be punished. But as you did not use magic, either, you have failed the test-"

"--Rutting hell!" Aelin cut him off with an angry screech. She then proceeded to argue with him on how he was wrong and she was right.

First, she survived the barrows, and now she proceeded to harass him like this? The brat would pay.

He would crush her with his fists, beat her to a pulp--but how? The mating bond absolutely did not allow one mate to harm the other.

"You think you can always rely on your non-magical skills?" Rowan said quietly. Aelin's pretty eyes widened; they were so close that her scent filled his lungs. Her neck was very pretty and slender, a really good size for a bite, just a tiny bite, just one-he crushed that thought.

And then the wind and ice in his blood thrummed with anticipation as Rowan as he realized what he could do.

---

The kitchens

Perhaps subjecting his student to icicles and blizzards was not the best idea.

Rowan had thought it was: the official reason could be, if he could freeze her enough, perhaps her fire powers would act up again. And in the meantime, he could enjoy torturing her in lieu of fighting with his fists.

At first, it was amusing on a sadistic level, to watch the brat throw herself around just to avoid his ice. Rowan could finally enact revenge for all those awful days when she was being difficult. And then it was rather pitiful, because Aelin soon resembled a sad, shivering kitten. And he wanted nothing more than to stop and warm her up by a fire, and then warm her up in other ways-he crushed that thought very firmly with a mental kick.

That was the problem. Nothing set off a fae male more than a struggling mate. Which is why he and Aelin had to travel to the kitchen together, both with scowls on their faces. He'd bought lunch with him but not dinner; she needed to do something as a scullery maid, after all, and dinner would be it.

Rowan kept a respectable distance from her, which kept things, well, respectable. And it kept her nasty lemon scent away from him.

"Do you always torture your students like this?" Aelin asked him resentfully, "I'm surprised there hasn't been a mutiny."

"Just you. Consider yourself special."

Aelin shivered, causing his hand to twitch as it tried to help her.

"Wonderful," she drawled. And shivered again.

Rowan, finally concerned, sent a small current of warm air her way. The air current enveloped her body for a few seconds, sending her hair floating softly and warming her cheeks with color.

Aelin blinked. "So you have a shred of a soul left."

Rowan did not deign to respond and motioned towards the kitchen door.

When Aelin entered, the cook took one horrified look at her wet clothes and shivering body, and outright glared at Rowan in the most disapproving way. He thought Aelin might be put to work, at least, but the cook ushered her right next to the fire.

"You sit right, here, young lady, and don't dare get up 'till your clothes are fine and dry!"

Grinning, Aelin plopped down on that chair with ill disguised greed and basked in her newfound warmth.

"Must have been a rough day," the cook cheerfully told Aelin.

"Oh you have no idea," she told him, and sent a nasty glare towards her mate.

Well, Aelin was finally warm and sheltered, so the damn bond finally stopped trying to give him a headache. Rowan turned on his heel and went on his way. As he left he heard, a faint "No work for you today, Elentiya, just stay here and warm up!"

His eye twitched. The nerve of that male. This brat was as spoiled as could be, but the demi-fae were just too obsessed with her mother to realize that.

It had been an exhausting day. Like a child, Rowan entered his room, closed the door, and flopped face down onto the bed.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he counted the days he had been without Lyria. Counted the days till her death anniversary.

He had been with others before Lyria, and others after her. None could compare. Those women were more beautiful, more interesting, and yet no one made him feel the love and serenity that Lyria did.

It had been two hundred years. It was normal of him to feel lust for other females, but why did his desire for Aelin make him feel like this? Even with magical enhancements, it did not make sense. Why would Maeve leave him with negative feelings about Aelin as well? Perhaps to curb suspicion of foul play? But why was it that every attractive thing he noticed about Aelin felt like betrayal of the worst kind...

Could he manage to visit his mate this year? Or would he be stuck with this woman?

The cruel smile Maeve wore that day in Mistward floated to his mind and he snarled in frustration. His Mistress was planning something. Something to do with him and Aelin Galathynius. But he felt like a fool, because he could not for the life of him understand what it was.

It had been an exhausting day...Rowan fell into a restless sleep, one hunted by flames and turquoise eyes.

Votes and Comments feed my soul

___________

HE TOUCHED HER WITH A CURRENT OF WARM AIR!!! At this rate they'll kiss on our 60th birthdays! 😍😍😍 #SLOWBURN

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: We're getting close to 8k reads(omg), and I was thinking of writing something special for that! What kind of a chapter do you want to see? Comment here and let me know!

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