A finger curled under my chin, lifting it.
Those depthless eyes searched mine, and I hadn’t realized I was on the cusp of tears until he studied the damp awaiting to fall with his head tilted. “When making a request that means so much to you, leave your heart out of it.” His thumb glossed the edge of my lower lip. “For there are many who will find endless pleasure in robbing you of such rare innocence and wonder.”
I wasn’t sure what compelled me to dare ask aloud, but the words escaped before I could hope to stop them. “Like you?”
“Sweetest creature…” His lips curved, and he closed the space between us to whisper against my mouth. “No one’s intentions for you are more wicked than my own.”
I believed him. I had much to learn about the royals of Folkyn, but I knew enough to know there had to be some truth to the rumors and tales of their mischievous and often cruel natures.
His mouth hovered. Our eyes locked, and our breath mingled.
Despite knowing I was wading into water too deep to navigate, I didn’t want to retreat.
I wanted to place my lips upon his. I wanted to touch his face. His throat. His arms. All of him. I wanted to see if the rest of his skin and bones were as sharp and smooth as the goddess-carved stone of his features.
“You’re aroused,” he said, a thin note of shock in his voice.
I swallowed and tried to ignore it, but with his lips so close to mine, his powerful energy encaging me, and something wild and unknown awakening within my body… I failed. My exhale shook with my words. “I think I would like to kiss you again.”
His eyes flared as I finished speaking and did just that. My own closed.
A relief that both burned and made me itch for more swept through me as soon as my mouth settled over his. I breathed him in, not knowing what to do—not confident that I was doing anything normal or correct but uncaring.
Hands seized my face.
Stunned, I stared up into the vibrant darkness of his gaze. “You are daring indeed.”
Fear returned, a flush entering my skin that nearly overpowered the madness that’d stolen my brain just moments ago.
I blamed him, and I said as much. “Did you do something to me?” Maybe he was one of the few faeries who could manipulate desires.
The king’s hold gentled. His thumbs rubbed over the warmth in my cheeks with something akin to fascination in his tight features. “No more than you’ve done me.”
Then he released me and stood.
A swift chill arrived and left me swaying.
I didn’t dare stand. I stayed seated and on the verge of shaking as he crossed the room to the liquor cabinet.
His tone was calm, everything about him seemingly unaffected as he poured himself a drink. “I assume you do not know where this home of yours is.”
“No,” I said, glad for the return of conversation after a stretched and tense silence. “That is what I long to find out. I want answers, and I need help to get them.”
“Because you are a changeling.”
Not a question. He already knew.
He tossed the whiskey down his throat. I admired the broad expanse of his back and the way his shirt molded to his large shoulders but floated over his torso like rippling night. The glass was set down sharply upon the oak. “Answer me.”
“You do not need me to,” I said but then surrendered what he wanted. “Yes, I’m a changeling.”
He turned and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. Leaning back against the cabinet, he eyed me over the strong bridge of his nose. “You’ve lived in Crustle your whole life, and you now wish for that to change?”
“Desperately,” I admitted, knowing it was far too late and futile to hide it.
His lashes lowered with his eyes, their journey down my body one that changed their color when they returned to mine a shade brighter. “That is why you attempted to trade yourself with the hunt.”
My stomach sank. “How did you…？”
Fool, I inwardly scolded.
He was a king. Whatever he desired to know, the information would be found.
As if reading my thoughts, King Florian’s mouth curved. He untucked a hand to scratch at the bristle dusting his jawline. “I’ve heard all about your encounter with the hunt.”
“Is that why you wished to meet with me?”
“Partly.” The confession was toneless. “I’m also informed when someone new is hired here at the Lair, especially when they’re young and full faerie.”
“Why?”
His teeth flashed, blinding. “Because I own it.”
I didn’t get the chance to recover from my surprise and the shock of such cruel beauty, nor ask him more questions.
The temperature in the room dropped, the air rapidly frosting.
“Until next time, butterfly.”
Right before my eyes, the king disappeared, leaving me staring at the melting wisps of flurries he’d left in his wake.
Gane’s features creased and bulged continuously with shock and horror.
I’d have found it comical if it weren’t for the fact I hadn’t told him everything. The goblin would have likely fallen from his perch behind the desk if so.
If I’d told him that not only was I indebted to Madam Morin but I was also meeting and playing dangerous games with a king.
“The Lair of…” The goblin shook his head and growled, “You are but an infant in such matters.”
“I’ve reached full maturity.”
“Just,” he spat. “And you’ve barely scraped the surface of what that truly means, Flea. You know what awaits you. It could begin at any moment—”
I raised a hand, stopping him.
Indeed, I knew what would befall me during the months following my twentieth year of existence. The heat. I wouldn’t have him speak of it to me. This conversation was mortifying enough.
“Gane, I’ll be okay.” I lifted a shoulder. “My client isn’t too bad, and he’s the only one I’m seeing.” I refrained from making a face after saying those words.
“Too bad?” Gane sputtered.
The king was as cold as the frigid room he’d left me in the evening prior.
I hadn’t heard from Madam Morin since, nor had I received a sparrow from Florian. After what I’d admitted to him, I half feared I wouldn’t, and that maybe he’d decided, despite whatever he’d wanted from me, I wasn’t worth the trouble.
The other half was terrified of the impossible—that the winter king might actually consider helping me.
It was all I wanted. All I’d dreamed of for endless nights.
And perhaps, I thought as I recalled Florian’s drugging curiosity of me, it would be my doom.
I shivered.
Gane frowned. “Flea, I urge you to speak with the madam and come to another arrangement.”
“What other arrangement could we possibly conjure?” I nearly laughed as I said, “Should I offer to clean the pleasure house instead?”
Actually, that was not such a bad idea.
Gane agreed, his cheeks red with outrage. “Yes. Something exactly like that. The creatures who visit that Lair are not looking to court and befriend you.” He sighed and lowered his voice. “Some might even hurt you.”
Florian’s warning returned.