A grip of brooding disquiet seeps in as I think about how we almost missed this. If she’d run away, or if I’d left early like I planned, I would’ve missed her giving herself to me—and not just her body, but her.
I know how difficult it was for her to place her emotions at my feet, especially considering how many people have trampled and manipulated them in the past. I know what it took for her to trust me, and I also know that I’ll destroy myself before I ever let her down.
Auren blinks at me with kiss-puffed lips. There’s a sated, beautiful look on her flushed face, and she looks so damn sexy I already want her again. She settles my magic, calms my anger, calls to my fae nature. She’s a burst of light in my dark, erupting life in the rotting depths of my soul.
She is everything I don’t deserve.
But I’m going to keep her anyway.
Gripping her close, I turn us so that I can fall on my back and have Auren draped over me, her body fitting perfectly against me. We pant together as we come down from our high, our hearts slamming in tandem as we catch our breaths. She molds to my body, jellied and satiated, her ribbons lying limp on the bed like they’re just as pleased as she is.
I press a kiss against her head, my arm coming around to hold her in place against me. After a moment, she looks up, her chin resting on my chest, fingers drawing over the lines that stretch up and curve toward my neck. Her touch is familiar. Intimate. And it makes me pleased as hell.
When I stroke a finger down her cheek, her head leans into my touch ever so slightly. I’m not sure if she even realizes she does it, but even that is gratifying. I want her every reaction to sway toward me like branches in the wind, caught up by the force of our synchronicity.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, her voice still rasping.
I smooth my hand down her spine, loving the way she shivers when my fingers caress over the base of where her ribbons grow from her back. “You,” I say simply, gaze roving over her like I want to drink her in. Her gleaming eyes, her pillowy mouth, and the arch of her brows—every feature is perfect because it’s her.
She shows me her gorgeous smile, and the shy charm in her eyes makes me want to kiss her all over again so I can taste her happy.
When she tries to shift away from me, I hold her in place, and amusement flashes in her face. “Are you going to let me up?”
“Not likely.”
She laughs. “You’re still inside of me.”
“Yep.”
Her smile turns impish, and I know I’m going to have my hands full when my temptress says, “Well, if you’re going to stay there, then can we do that again?”
I grip her chin, male satisfaction bleeding through my expression as I look at her, my cock already hardening again. “Oh Goldfinch, we’re just getting started.”
Chapter 32
AUREN
My ear is pressed against Slade’s chest as I look out at the glass doors of the balcony. The dying night is the stroke of an artist painting over the sky, lessening the black into shades of muted gray.
Beneath me, Slade sleeps, the tempo of his even breaths like the pull of a breeze. Yet I haven’t slept, not for a single minute.
I’ve soaked up every moment, relished in each touch, reveled in all of him. Right now, in the quiet of a coming dawn, my spirit is content in a way I’ve never experienced before.
It reminds me of the feeling I used to get when I read those beautiful books of poetry back in Highbell. That sense like I’m suddenly hearing life as a song, an entity with more depth than I could ever possibly fathom. Everything I’ve experienced or thought suddenly joins, makes sense, has bigger meaning.
That’s what it feels like as I lie here, draped over Slade’s body, our skin pressed together in shared warmth. As if the veil of life has peeled back, showing me the greater deepness, the vibrancy of a moment and my place in it all.
I want to stay here forever.
But of course, I can’t.
My fingertip traces over his rooting ropes of power, watching the thin lines as they sway beneath his pale skin. They’re slower now, sluggish, as if they too are sated and drowsing sleepily.
I give myself another moment of pure indulgence, enjoying the way our legs are tangled together and our bodies slanted, the feel of his arm wrapped around my back. It’s so achingly perfect that I’ve become melancholic, dropped in a dread of knowing that life won’t stay this way.
But I wish it would.
When the sky has well and truly blurred with the drab of impending daybreak, I finally force myself to get up. I need to do it slowly so I don’t wake him. Using my ribbons, I lift his arm enough to slip out from under him. I freeze when he makes a noise, but instead of waking, he shifts his legs. I use the opportunity to extricate myself the rest of the way.
With careful movements, I rise up from his broken bed and get to my feet, making my ribbons slip out just as gently. The fireplace is just a collection of smoldering coals by now, and the chill of the room raises bumps along my arms.
I start to pick up my discarded clothing around the room like birds to scattered breadcrumbs. My body is sore—deliciously so—and I’d really like to get back to my room and soak in a bath before the sun comes up.
I quickly pull on my gloves, dress, and stockings and then pluck up my boots, stuffing them beneath my arm. On tiptoes, I head for the door, hand grasping the handle and hoping that the hinges don’t squeak.
When I open it an inch and it doesn’t make a sound, I let out a little breath of relief, only for that breath to turn into a squeal as a hand slams the door shut again.
I whirl around finding a very naked, very awake Slade standing over me. “Going somewhere?”
“You scared me!” I admonish, pressing my hand against my racing heart.
He crosses his arms and leans against the door, effectively keeping me in. “Why are you sneaking out?”
“I’m not sneaking,” I reply. “I just didn’t want to wake you. You’ve barely been sleeping an hour.”
A devilish smirk tips up his lips. “Whose fault is that?”
My cheeks immediately heat, despite the cold air. “Yours!” I insist.
He pretends to cock his head in thought. “Mmm, I’d have to disagree. You were quite insatiable. Asked for us to go again on multiple occasions as I recall.”
I groan in embarrassment, which just makes him grin. “Come back to bed.”
“I can’t,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “The sun is going to be up soon.”
His green eyes flit over to the glass doors, to the horizon we can see over the castle walls. “We can fit one more time in.”
“I’ve fit enough in for one night,” I quip.
Slade laughs, and the delicious sound makes my toes curl. “Alright, let me get dressed, and I’ll walk you back to your rooms.”
My eyes nearly bug out. “What are you talking about? You know you can’t do that.”
He strides across the room, and I become momentarily distracted with his strong back and firm ass until both disappear from view when he enters his dressing room.
Shaking my head, I take the opportunity to open the door and walk out. I expect for the sitting room to be empty, so I startle when I find Fake Rip sitting on one of the chairs, a map rolled out on his lap and a platter of breakfast laid out on the table in front of him.
“Do you always wear that helmet and armor? It’s only four in the morning.”
He doesn’t even turn his head in my direction. “Trust me, it’s not my favorite look,” he murmurs. “It makes it a pain in the ass to eat...and take a piss.”
I scrunch up my nose. “I didn’t need to know that.”
Spotting my coat hanging on the back of the chair he’s sitting on, I walk over and tug, but it doesn’t budge beneath his weight. “Can you get off?”
“I suppose I don’t have to ask the two of you that question,” he jokes.
&nbs
p; My mouth drops open in mortification, but before I can form a response, Slade strides into the room half dressed, pants hanging low on his hips, black shirt unbuttoned. He walks straight over to Fake Rip and smacks him on the back of his head, helmet be damned. “Don’t make me rot your tongue this early in the morning.”
Fake Rip chuckles with a shrug, barely glancing up from the map. “Just wanted to see what color her skin turns when she blushes.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Slade says as he starts to button up his shirt, hiding all those sexy muscles I love looking at. “Apologize to her.”
Fake Rip reaches behind him and grabs my coat, holding it out to me. “Sorry, little golden girl.”
I snatch the coat and pull it on before I sit down and shove my feet into my boots and do up the laces. From my peripheral, I notice Fake Rip looking at Slade. “So I take it we’re not leaving now.”
Stealing a look up at Slade, I notice his face has gone stony.
“That’s what I thought,” Fake Rip says, though his tone has taken on a slightly bitter edge. “Then are you going to send me?”
“I don’t know yet.”
A curse grits out from behind Fake Rip’s black helmet. “Dammit, you know we can’t fuck around with this. We need to go and see—”
“I know,” Slade bites out. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Fake Rip shakes his head, grumbling something too low for me to hear. I quickly tie up the rest of my boots, feeling both awkward and curious about overhearing this conversation.
“Ready?” Slade asks, coming up to stand beside me as soon as I’m finished.
“You can’t come with me.”
He frowns. “I don’t like the idea of you creeping out of here alone like a dirty secret. I’ll be discreet.”
“Right. Because no one will notice King Rot walking the gold-touched favored down the halls at four in the morning,” I say with a snort. “We both know I need to go alone so that no one sees.”
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, we’re stuck in some sort of standoff. Then, without looking away, he says, “Give us a minute.”
Fake Rip makes a noise of irritation, but he gets to his feet and stomps out of the room, heading for the balcony.
When we’re relatively alone, Slade runs a hand through his mussed, coal-black hair. I can say from experience that it’s just as soft as it appears. But instead of saying anything, he hesitates, looking torn.
“I appreciate the sentiment of you wanting to walk me, but we both know it’s not a good idea. I really do need to go.” Something flickers in his eyes, making me frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything,” he replies in frustration. “I don’t like having you slink out of here on your own. What if Midas is there?”
“He won’t be,” I reassure him. “He hardly ever comes to see me during the day unless he needs me to use my power. And he’s been avoiding me since...” I trail off, biting my lip, but Slade hears what I don’t say, his deep green eyes flicking to my cheek.
“He better not touch you again.”
“He won’t.”
Still, Slade doesn’t seem to be placated. “Tell me you aren’t pulling back.”
My brows crease. “Pulling back?”
“You’re not having regrets, are you?” he asks me, gaze intent on my face.
So that’s what this is about. My eyes soften, voice gentling. “Last night was a lot of things, but a regret isn’t one of them.”
Relief seems to evaporate the tension from his shoulders as he lets out a breath. “Good. It would’ve been really time-consuming to tie you down on the bed all day.”
My lips part in surprise. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He leans down so our faces are level, that wicked mischievousness I love so much coming back into his eyes. “All of you, every part, and I’m not giving you up, remember? I would definitely tie you to the bed if you tried to back out on this. Your ribbons would probably even help me do it.”
My stomach flutters at the teasing implications. I can’t even deny the part about my ribbons, because they’re currently trying to slither up his damn legs. “Well...pretty soon, you can’t touch me,” I remind him.
His warm breath skates across my cheek. “Have a little faith in me. I could have you begging again, even without touching your skin.”
Great Divine.
I swallow, trying to get rid of the lump of lust that’s risen up. “I need to go now, or I won’t have time to take a bath before the sun comes up.”
Seemingly satisfied by my blush, he straightens up. “Have some breakfast first.”
I look over to the table, and my stomach chooses that moment to growl, which makes Slade smile in victory.
“One croissant,” I relent.
“And some eggs,” he adds. “Also fruit. Maybe some ham too.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn and sit down on the chaise, where Slade immediately takes a seat next to me. He grabs a plate and starts piling it up while I look around at the spread of croissants. Before I can pick one, he pushes the plate into my hands, and I blink down at it in surprise. “I can’t eat all of this.”
“Of course you can. Besides, you need to replenish your body. We expelled a lot of energy last night,” he says with a grin.
How many times can I blush before dawn?
I choose to stuff my face instead of reply, while Slade eats from his own plate, albeit much more slowly.
I clear my throat and jerk my head in the direction of the balcony. “Are you going to let him come back inside? It looks cold out there.”
“He’s fine,” Slade says dismissively.
“No, I’m not!” Fake Rip calls in through the glass, though he doesn’t turn around from where he’s leaning on the railing. “It’s fucking snowing again!”
Slade just snorts out a laugh and continues to eat.
We sit in comfortable silence for a bit, but I find myself getting distracted several times as he bites into his bread, his lips dusted with sugar that I really want to lick up.
“You keep looking at me like that, and I won’t be letting you leave.”
My eyes shoot up to his teasing gaze that has an entirely different sort of hunger in it that has nothing to do with the food. Finishing my bite, I set the plate down and get to my feet. “Okay, I’m going to head back to my room. Thank you for breakfast.”
Slade’s eyes trail up my form, and my body reacts to it, my stomach dipping while my nipples pebble. “You should eat more first,” he says after a quick glance to the windows, which are growing lighter every second. “I don’t think you’ve had enough.”
“No, really, I’m…” I trail off, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Wait a minute. Are you...are you trying to purposely stall me?”
He gives a single blink before reaching down and pouring himself something from the pitcher and taking a swig. “I don’t know what you mean. I simply enjoy your company, and I think you should stay until well after dawn.”
“You are. You’re stalling me. Why?”
Slade is trying to look entirely too innocent. “No reason. So...if you try to bathe during the day, do you turn your bath water liquid gold or solid?”
“I could make it solid, but that would take a lot of power. The water would go liquid gold as soon as I touched it, and that’s no way to bathe. Which is why I need to get going. Washing with gold water just isn’t very cleanly.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he says, though he doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s unfortunate at all.
My eyes widen in realization. “Oh my goddess, Slade! You’re trying to make me late so I can’t wash?”
Instead of denying it, the perverse bastard has the nerve to smirk. “I told you fae are a bit wild. I like having my scent all over you. I want to keep it there.”
I should be grossed out, but the fact that he wants me to keep his scent on me makes my stomach do a little flip. “You’r
e crass.”
“We’ve already established that.”
With a little snort, I turn and head for the door. “Okay, I’m going to go bathe like a normal person. You should do the same.”
He lets out a put-upon sigh and follows me to the door. “Fine, but come and see me tonight at the camp. I’ll get Lu to sneak you out.”
I give him a hesitant look. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“No one will see. Trust me. I’ll have her wait for you outside your balcony.” A glint of amusement shines in his eyes. “I heard she knows where it is.”
I wince. “She told you about that?”
A grin spreads over his lips. “Yep. She said it was one of the funniest things she’s ever seen, the way you dangled off the balcony like that.” I smack his arm, but that only makes him chuckle.
Slade opens the door for me, popping his head out for a moment before he faces me again. “It’s clear,” he confirms.
“Thank you.”
I slip past him, though I can feel his eyes on my body as I start to walk down the dark corridor.
“Tonight, Auren,” he says quietly, and the ends of my ribbons twist at the decadent promise edging his voice.
Stopping at the end of the hall, I look back at him over my shoulder, a secret smile lifting my lips as forbidden excitement fills me. “Tonight.”
Chapter 33
QUEEN MALINA
Jeo’s fingers are red like his windblown hair, as if the cold slipped its unforgiving grip between his palms and squeezed tight.
I watch him from my spot in front of the window while he jerks on the crude fishing pole, its line buried within the depths of the hole in the frozen lake. Every few minutes, he has to hack away at the ice that tries to reform, as if nature itself is working against him.
With another tug, a gray fish the size of his hand comes flailing out, and he tosses it behind him onto the small pile he’s already caught, their sides having long since ceased their rise and fall.
He then sets the pole aside and bends down, gathering all the fish in a tin bucket that was used to remove ash from the chimney before he redesigned it for the task of holding our food.
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