Soul of Ice (Chronicles of Dawn)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“All I’m saying is that it doesn’t make sense. I’ve read books on curses, and they always end after the caster dies. So if Isla killed King Draegar, how are we all still cursed, know-it-all ?”

Surina was fuming . Only hours into their trip and Ezra had already managed to unwind that light, feathery feeling she had after they passed beyond the outer walls of Thesia. She finally stopped staring out the window long enough to dig into the dragon book, finding a section on Draegar’s curse.

Ezra scoffed, sitting opposite her with his legs kicked out, propped up on the cushion beside her, not even having the decency to pull the book he was reading from his face to meet her glare.

He was being so smug, too, like he thought she wasn’t going to bombard him with a thousand questions about yesterday the second they were alone.

Shoving his boots from the bench, she gave him a tight scowl of a smile when he finally dropped the book into his lap.

“ All I’m saying ,” he began, voice as cool as a breeze, “is that Draegar was extremely powerful, and not everything you read in a book is true. Much like this one.” Ezra wiggled the novel in his hand, drawing her eyes to the title. Passion’s Call . “You know none of this is realistic, right?”

Surina wished he could see the roll of her eyes, but he disappeared behind the pages again. Despite his complaints, he seemed to like the book well enough, considering he admitted to having read it already. Not to mention he hadn’t put it down for hours.

A hot flush consumed her cheeks when imagining all the heated scenes he would have gotten through this morning.

She turned away to face the window again, grumbling her reply. “Maybe you think it’s unrealistic because you’re just not a romantic.” Ripping the curtains back from the window, she glared outside—nothing but trees.

So far, the world away from the capital was not as exhilarating as she’d imagined. They’d been on the same cobblestone road for almost the entire trip, only turning onto a separate path in the past hour.

“Where are we going?” she inquired, her brows knitting together as she surveyed their surroundings. The scenery was denser than before, and while she had no knowledge of the roads of Thesia, this one looked way too rural for a road leading to Castmont Keep.

Ezra slapped the book shut, drawing his legs in as he set the novel aside. “Give me a chance. I think you’ll find I’m just as romantic as I am charming.”

After a wink, the carriage came to a sudden halt.

She brushed off his obvious attempt at riling her. “Why are we stopping?”

“We’ve been in here for hours. Don’t you want to stretch your legs? Get some fresh air? I, for one, am dying to know what’s in these boxes.” Ezra shook a small parcel that had materialized in his hand, wrapped in a deep-blue fabric. It was one of three that she noticed when entering the carriage earlier, to include the gift Cyril handed her.

A strange wash of anxiousness fell over her as the door to the coach opened and Ezra disembarked. “I can just open them in here,” she voiced with a shaky breath, hoping her plea would be enough to convince him to remain.

“Come on. The horses need a break anyway.” Ezra poked his head back in, reaching his free hand to her. “You can’t stay in here forever.” His smile broadened, and that was just about all she could take before her hand floated to his, the chilling shock of his fingers making her shiver.

Setting the dragon-scaled book off to the side, she shrugged through the carriage entrance, and her stomach flipped at the thought of her feet landing on foreign soil—on anywhere that wasn’t the palace grounds. That dread quickly turned into delight as rays from the sun poured in through the forest canopy, warming her face and hands. She closed her eyes, taking in the gentle stirs of leaves in the wind—only for that peace to be completely ruined by the heavy crunch of booted feet.

Her eyes flung open to reveal another, watching her just as keenly as the king. Only the second they locked stares, his amber irises swung sideways to survey the woodline —it was a curious prowl of their environment, one she would expect from the soldiers in their posse, not from a servant.

Ezra didn’t waste any time pulling her to his side, guiding her down a somewhat worn, but firm, dirt path leading into the forest.

She glanced back once more. No one followed. Not even the guards who’d traveled on horseback alongside them. While the others seemed to have already made themselves busy by pulling hay and water from one of the carriages, the human only propped against their coach, his arms curled over his chest.

“Where are we going?” she whispered to Ezra, not really sure why she felt the need to do so. The woods were just so quiet, she didn’t want to disturb the serenity of it all.

“You’ll see,” Ezra said with such a wondrous lilt to his voice, she couldn’t help but smile.

“You know,” he began again, “before Silas was God of Fire, humanity worshipped another—Ephysia. The Goddess of Fire and Love.”

Surina knew of the fae he spoke of. “Didn’t she fight for Draegar’s side during the war?”

“Initially, she fought for Isla, but when she came face to face with one of Draegar’s commanders on the battlefield, it was supposedly love at first sight. They were mates, destined by the divines. For some time, they kept it between one another, and would only meet in secret.”

She couldn’t imagine betraying those she loved for a male—one who served King Draegar at that—fated or not. “Why didn’t they just run away together, if they were so in love ?” Surina huffed a laugh, a breathless one, continuing along the forest path. Her cloak and skirts weighed down each movement. Galen had been right about her needing to work on her endurance. She’d been growing more lithe than usual, too, but assumed it was her nearing the transition. Now she wondered if it was just her poor diet and lack of exercise.

Ezra slowed his pace when he realized she was struggling to keep up, though he never commented on it. “The commander’s loyalty to his king was unwavering. Some believe he was using their bond to manipulate her. To get information to help Calaechia win the war.”

The sound of rustling water started in the distance. Gods, what she would give to dip her toes in something cool. Sweat beaded against her neck and back, but she disregarded it, noting the changing colors of the trees instead, which shifted from a dark, woodsy brown to a brighter, mystical green. She absorbed it all—the sights of the forest and the somberness of the goddess’s story.

“So, what do you believe?” she asked when their trek grew silent, bumping into the king when he came to an abrupt halt in front of a wall of shrubbery covered in orange and red flowers. When he turned to look at her, she thought his eyes seemed darker.

“I think he knew there wasn’t anywhere they could run to escape their fates, and he did what he thought was best to keep her safe.” Ezra released his hold of her hand, drawing the shrubbery back to offer a space wide enough for her to squeeze through.

What she stepped into was nothing short of a paradise, completely surrounded by lush greenery flecked with orange, gold, and red flora. She gazed upon a massive rock formation that rose to block her view of the sky from where she stood, and from atop the stone, a bubbling stream of water cascaded down, pooling into a great reservoir below. At the center of the grand pond was a rocky base overgrown with moss, housing a massive weeping willow. This one was unlike any she’d ever seen. It grew vibrant strands of scarlet leaves, like long, flowing red hair. It was something out of a dream.

Her voice brushed past her lips in an awe-filled whisper. “What is this place?”

“This is where they would meet. He had an affinity for earth and created these gardens for her. The Gardens of Ephysia.” Moving to unclasp his cloak, he spread the fabric onto the plush grass below, plopping the boxes on top.

It was difficult to imagine a commander of Draegar creating something so exquisite—beautiful didn’t seem to cover it.

Turning to ask where he’d learned of this place, her words were cut short when she saw he’d already removed his leather jerkin and was slipping the cream blouse over his head.

“What are you doing?” she said with a heated shock, but there was no looking away from where he stripped to nothing but form-fitting breeches. Even his boots had been chucked to the side. He positively glistened in the sunlight, sweat trickling down the ridges of his torso until it hit the light sprinkling of hair below his navel.

“Don’t you want to get in?” Ezra asked as he ambled towards her, lifting a hand to the chain that held the cloak’s fabric together at her neck.

She stopped him before he could tug at the clasp, struggling to keep her eyes up.

A sigh tickled her face, caressing her skin with a breath of his scent. “You’re burning up, Surina. If you don’t want to swim, then at least take this heavy thing off.”

The heat really was unbearable beneath the thick material, and she knew how ridiculous she looked in all the layers. The further they were from the mountains, the less spiteful the wind. Even those traveling with them had removed their extra clothing—apart from the human, who seemed content with his coat and gloves.

Surina shook her head, working up the courage to reveal all she’d endured last night. Parts of it bloomed along her cheeks and down her jaw, but the worst of it was at her neck.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she quickly released the soft ring of the clasp. When the weight dropped to pool around her ankles, there was immediate relief. The breeze that swept by, likely Ezra’s doing, only made her yearn for more relief, and the water was a solid candidate.

Ezra moved much faster than her, halting her attempt at veiling the strangulation marks by brushing her hair forward. Each stroke of his thumb on her hand was consistent with the pulsing at his temples as he glared at the bruising. He clearly blamed himself for every disaster that graced Surina’s life, so she alleviated the heaviness in the air the only way she knew how.

“Well? Are you going to help me out of this miserable thing or not?” She tested a smile, tugging at the neckline of her dress.

Ezra chuckled, his steps silent as he went to her back and made his way through the line of buttons on her gown. “We’ll pull another dress out when we return.”

The idea of undressing in the middle of a forest didn’t hit her until he made it to the very last button. All she wore underneath was a slip.

Without even seeing her face, he seemed to sense her uneasiness. “Guards are patrolling the area, far enough away that they won’t see you,” he murmured, unfastening the remaining loops and hooks of the dress’s corset, which sent a shocking thrill down her back. As did the rough warning in his voice. “They’ll lose their eyes if they do.”

The heavy fabric fell to her booted toes, and the thin material of her slip stuck to the dampness of her skin, until a sudden stream of air fluttered underneath, ruffling the material free.

Surina scowled when she faced him, unsurprised by the wry grin that now replaced his earlier brooding.

He studied every move she made towards the water, like the predator he was. Thankfully, the rush of the waterfall was enough to distract her from the ravenous gleam in his eyes. She removed her boots before carefully skimming her toes atop the surface. It felt absolutely amazing against her flushed skin. Definitely deep enough to jump into—

An icy grip laced her wrist just before she could, tugging her into the hard frame of his chest.

“Not so fast,” he said, twirling her away from the water. Ezra brought her palm between them, grazing the gauze of her wrapped hand. “You can’t get this wet.”

“How am I supposed to swim then?”

The fabric was torn off, and the slight sting was quickly replaced by a cool frost that completely sealed the injury.

“And here.” He brushed the hair from her shoulders to reach the one at her throat, ducking lower to get a better look while tilting her chin up for easier access.

“Last I checked, ice melts in water,” Surina taunted snidely, her heart just about leaping out of her chest when Ezra gripped her tighter.

“I’ve enchanted it to last a little longer,” he returned dryly, irises dancing between her throat and raised brows. “Smart-ass.”

The thundering of her heart only picked up when he finished frosting it over, and his fingers trailed down to inspect the integrity of his magic. Vividly recalling just how those fingers felt inside of her, she could hardly breathe in the moment. Not until he released her chin.

“Can I get in now , Your Majesty ?” The gods knew it was a near impossible task, keeping the shakiness from her voice, but she managed to reach a new level of sarcasm while doing so.

“Did you just ask for permission?” He cocked his head to the side, pretending to check her temperature with the back of his hand. “Are you feeling alright?”

She frowned, swatting him off. “I’d be a lot better if you’d stop coddling me.”

“I don’t know,” Ezra drawled, ignoring her complaints as he slung her up into a cradle in his arms. “I think all this sun has gotten to your head. Nothing a dip in the water won’t fix.”

She peered over its surface, spotting her rippling reflection before the water began to swirl, flurries of snow collecting at the top. Was he… freezing it?

Realization hit, probably a little too late when he stretched her over the edge. “Don’t you dare!”

Squirming in his hold, she clawed at his shoulders, trying to keep a grip on him. If she was going down, he was going down with her—at least that’s what she hoped for—but he managed to untangle her arms through a few simple maneuvers.

“Ezra! I’ll fucking k—”

She plunged into the frigidness below, and it was electric against her flesh, igniting every pore of her body as she swam up to breach the surface, sputtering a teeth-chattering shriek.

“You’re dead!” Shoving at the frothy snow, she sent it flying through the air with her affinity and it splattered across his chest.

Ezra only laughed it off, letting it slide down his abdominals. “Feeling better?”

“ Much ,” she snarled. “Why don’t you get in so I can show you how grateful I am?”

Using more magic to propel her away from the wash of ice and into more temperate waters, she made her way to the center, where the willow roots overflowed from the earthen mound.

He shrugged off her threats with a devious grin. “If you insist.”

And with that, Ezra unfastened the buttons of his breeches, letting the very considerable length of him out before removing the fitted material from his body completely.

She might have been gawking—no, she absolutely was—because the villainous flash of teeth he returned made her realize just how crude her stares were.

“Like what you see?” The fine muscles of his chiseled body tightened as he slowly lowered himself into the water.

It took every ounce of her willpower not to look down again.

“Not particularly,” she lied under her breath, turning to grab onto a root that brushed her leg. Pretending that the strands of deep-red leaves were more interesting than the now fully nude male who neared, she slipped behind the spotty curtain, though it wasn’t nearly enough to hide her view of him—which she was shamefully thankful for.

The Mother would have a field day with Surina’s soul when her time came, that she was certain of.

He feigned a gruff cry, like he’d been struck by an arrow. “You wound me, princess.”

“I doubt that.” She peered through the leaves as he started laps around the miniature island. “Your ego is impenetrable. And your vanity? Immeasurable.”

Humming a soft laugh, like his humor was a secret, he let the glide of the water pull him around the curve. “What do you expect, when such a stunning little thing can’t take her eyes off me?” Finding her continued stares between the spaces in the leaves, he winked, disappearing behind the mound entirely.

Her mouth opened to argue his point, but he was so right. Sometimes she thought he was too beautiful to look at; other times it was impossible to look away. Like watching a tragedy unfold—he was frightening and amazing all at once.

That’s when she realized what this was, and why he’d brought her here.

The isolation. The way he provoked every nerve in her body. Even how he swam idle laps around her. It was a scene from that damned book, where the beautiful creature from the deep successfully lured the heroine into the waters— his waters.

She fucking fell right into his little trap. Fortunately for Surina, she didn’t feel trapped, and unlike the girl in the novel, she wasn’t afraid. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She was afraid, but only of the darkened thrill that now filled her veins, and the anticipative desire that swept in with the chilling curl of water at the base of her spine.

A shiver prickled her flesh, making her breaths come out in short pants when an arm wrapped her waist, tugging her from the root she clung to. It took all her restraint not to peek into the water below when he twisted her around.

Forced to twine her arms behind his neck to keep from sinking—something she didn’t mind one bit—she made an effort not to drag her fingers through the dripping strands of his hair.

“Am I to receive your gratitude now or later?” His voice was a purr, low and inviting.

She snorted a laugh. “And what exactly do you deserve for tossing me into freezing waters?” Surina could think of one or two things, none of which were a reward to any degree.

“For healing your ailment, you mean?” He pondered for a moment, seeming to consider her question. Though with the hand that meandered up her thigh to cup her ass, bringing her so close to him that she had to curl her legs around his waist, she was pretty sure he’d already decided.

One word from her and he would stop, she knew, but one look from him and she was damned. Especially when those pupils strained, homing in on the lick of her lips as she sucked in the residual droplets of fresh spring water gathered there.

He was on her before she could muster a breath, their bodies melting into one another, the press of his hardened length making her stomach flip with a queasy excitement. And his lips— gods his fucking lips. They were everything and everywhere. Too starved to stay solely on hers for more than a few hungered nips, he dragged them lower, skimming over the frosted patch and right to where her necklace sat between the squeeze of her breasts.

It was all they’d held back for hours . The longing stares throughout the morning, the brush of their skin in what little space they had in the carriage—even his snarky taunts riled her in the most depraved ways.

Groaning a curse when he nipped at the tight cleavage squeezed against her now see-through slip, she fumbled with the hem of it, furiously trying to rid herself of the only obstacle between his mouth and the rest of her body.

He laughed, maintaining a grip on her rear and the root behind her back to keep her steady as she struggled to free the fabric.

“A little help?” she snapped, shooting glaring daggers as he continued to observe her endeavor with playful humor.

A tickle whisked over her shoulders then, and slithering tendrils of scarlet leaves lifted to coil around her arms and under her shoulders.

Surina jerked from their reach. “What the—”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Her mouth fell right open. “How are you doing that?” He’d kept a lot from her, but a whole affinity? There was no fucking way.

“The water in the plants. It takes a bit of concentration, but it’s easy enough to manipulate.”

Relenting, her weight slowly transferred to the flora, freeing up his hands so he could let go.

“Oh.” That made a hell of a lot more sense than a secret affinity for earth. Already having an affinity for earth, she never really considered using water to manipulate plants when she could do so with ease.

She plucked at the tightening strands, testing their durability. It made her pulse quicken, because the male in her book had done something similar, stringing the heroine up in some form of sea moss.

“Clever,” was all she could say when a dastardly warmth ignited in her core.

Being tall enough to stand at this depth, Ezra rose from the water to hover over her where she reclined slightly.

A ruthless grin twisted his lips to reveal the glint of a canine, like he read exactly where her mind was heading. “Back to it then?”

In one swift jerk, he ripped the thin material right off her, and those teal irises raked all the way down, where plump, pink knots tightened beneath his gaze.

His silence was destructive, bringing her pulse to a ferocious speed. And that staring… utterly volatile.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, at last ending the cruel silence. “You’re perfect, and I don’t deserve this—I don’t deserve you.”

Regardless of how unbelievable his words were, what with all of the scars and bruises that marred her body, her chest still ached to hear it.

The leaves cinched around her wrists as her lips parted to disagree, cutting off her words. Then her arms were hoisted over her head, suspending most of her body in the air. Before her weight could cause any pain to her arms, her thighs met hardened muscle. He’d dipped underneath her, perching her on either of his shoulders, just above the water’s surface.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the flesh below her navel, bringing a frosted kiss down.

At a complete loss for words, her thoughts whirled, trying to tie together his apologies and the corrupt, desirous gleam in his eyes. He wasn’t making any sense.

“Sorry for what?” she gasped out, tightening her grip on the strands just to assuage the biting snap of her sun-scarred palm, which hadn’t let up since they entered the gardens.

His tongue pressed into her abdomen, lapping up the droplets that slid down her flesh, all the way up the underside of her breast. Latching onto a hardened knot, he brought the taut flesh in with a terrifyingly pleasant burn.

She bowed against the sensation with a rasping moan. “On second thought, I don’t actually care. You’re forgiven.”

Ezra hummed, the rumble and suckle of his mouth sending a shockwave of pleasure through her, lighting every nerve. He licked and kissed all the way down her ribcage, until his lips stilled above the fine dusting of hair at her center. “You deserve more than I could ever offer. But I can’t let you go, Surina—I won’t. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Every inch of her body trembled beneath his allusion to what was next. She could have taken the tether of his elemental hold to break her binds at any point, but she wanted this, and not because of some depraved fantasy from a book. This moment didn’t belong to a book. These were her wants. Her desires. This was her story.

A frigid breath against her flesh was the last thing her mind could comprehend before he licked down the very center of her, eliciting a cry that didn’t even sound like her own—it barely even sounded fae. The sting of flora around her wrist was nothing compared to the aching between her legs, where he swallowed her whole.

It was maddening. Her core was molten, but that tongue—nefariously glacial, and she fucking loved it. She needed it.

She needed more .

There wasn’t a single moment of reprieve, not until a new strand of leaves started to fish around a knee, lifting just enough for him to pull a shoulder out from under her.

Like a puppet on strings, she moved to his whim, and then his tongue was replaced by two glorious fingers, which entered her with ease. He had to know she was far past the wanting. Far past the taunting.

Ezra stilled his motions when she moaned against the curl of his fingers inside, and when she found the courage to look down, rising tendrils of fog swirled from his flesh.

“The sounds you make,” he rasped, voice a looming resonance in her ears as he pumped through her slickness, “completely undo me, you beautiful, wicked little creature.”

Every whimper of hers brought forth a thicker cloud of fog from him, which shrouded them in a hazy veil, and through that veil, an ungodly mouth went right back to her center.

He must have been holding back earlier, because the rattling impact shook her to the core. Now, it was his own personal inquisition, sliding along her. In her.

Out of sheer muscular reaction, her legs tried to pull in against the coiling release—it was too much, but even still, it didn’t fill her the way she needed him to fill her. “I want more of you, Ezra. Please, I—”

His hand gripped around her thigh in defiance, keeping her in place. A trembling growl only ensured that the nerves at her center received a pulsing ripple of pleasure.

Seeming to enjoy the way she responded to that, he moved his inquisition north, and it took one graze of a canine against that spot for her to crack, the climax tearing through her body. It roused shivers of delight akin to lightning as he drew the release out as long as it would allow.

Her head nodded back in a blissful surrender, and she studied the way the scarlet strands met at the peak of the willow, cascading around them. It wasn’t until soft, plush grass brushed against her back that she came to.

A finger dragged down the side of her face, directing her chin towards him, where he lingered in the water, an arm draped over the side of the earthen mound to hold him up.

He looked positively corrupt , the way his smile gleamed from the edge—a triumphant king.

Rolling onto her side, she stretched a hand out to him, tracing the hard angle of his cheekbone to remind herself that he really was there. That this was real. “You’re like a statue,” she murmured. “Like the ones in the gardens back home.”

“The statues of the gods?” His touch followed the curve of her frame, all the way down to her waist. “There you go stoking my ego again.”

Sneaking a glance into the water, she chewed on the bottom of her lip as she compared the nude marble artwork from the gardens to the masterpiece before her.

A knowing smile crept onto his mouth when her gaze traveled up, and her hand found its way to his chest. His heart was just as chaotic as hers, hastening with her trailing touch.

Running a sly hand along the ridges of his stomach, she continued down until she met hardened velvet.

He swore under his breath at the first brush, but when she wrapped her fingers around the entirety of him, every muscle tensed with that first stroke. His head fell back in adamant approval. “ Gods , Surina…”

The glide of his cock along her palm was like nothing she’d ever encountered before. And she didn’t mean the feel of a male’s length in her hand. That part wasn’t new. But an immortal—powerful and deadly—falling to pieces beneath a few mild strokes. That was new, and it intrigued her, to put it tamely, to see him respond to her in such a way.

Because he’s been without another’s touch for almost two years . Two years he’d longed for this. For her . The same way she did for him.

Soft curses and whispered purrs curled around her ears like a blasphemous prayer as she worked up and down his cock. The molten flare at her core made her grip him even tighter.

Ezra’s eyes flew open then, finding her unspoken question written all over her face.

She wanted him. All of him. But did he want the same? It sure as hell felt like it.

Clearly having read her mind, he shook his head, though she didn’t think he looked anywhere near sure of himself. “Not here, Surina. Not now.”

“But I want you,” she offered, feeling the bitter sting of rejection as she pulled her hand from his throbbing length.

Heaving a deep sigh, as if he was talking himself down from making a grave mistake, Ezra raked his fingers through the moist strands of her hair. “It’s my saliva. It’s still in your blood. That will fade with time.”

“It’s not the saliva.” Surina swallowed, feeling the blatant admission in the strum of her heart. Dragging herself up, she twisted onto her rear, slipping her legs over the edge where he stood in the water. “It’s you .”

Ezra studied her with shifting features—clearly trying to determine whether she was telling the truth or not.

She was, but even still, he looked away, staring somewhere in the distance. “It doesn’t matter, because it’s not happening.”

She wouldn’t lie, him refusing her was surprising, but maybe that just showed how little she knew of Ezra, if she thought he’d be willing to go all the way after a quick dalliance in the forest.

Twice now he’d given her such a euphoric release, though, and she’d be damned if she let that debt stack up against her.

“Then let me give you something else,” she countered, dipping into her magic to pull the enchantment from her palm, where the healing cut from her fall struggled to close itself up.

“No.” His response was firm, nostrils flaring with the terse cut of his jaw. “I shouldn’t have overstepped with your blood yesterday, and I’m sorry for my lapse in judgment, but you’re not mine yet. Not entirely. Not in your heart.”

She had to grit her teeth together to keep her mouth from falling open, because the hypocrisy was astounding. Moments ago, his tongue was literally inside of her, but that wasn’t overstepping?

“Then make me yours,” she refuted, her brows furrowing to mark the start of her tantrum.

Frigid fingers slunk into the sopping strands at the base of her head, drawing a gasp from her. Tugging the hair at her skull down, he forced her chin up, the cool wisps of his breath coasting her lips. “Make no mistake, the second you’re ready to give me everything, I will know, and I’ll take it all. Happily. Every part of you will be mine. Your heart, your soul, and your body.” He leaned in, a goose bump-inducing gaze tickling her flesh as it floated down the sensitive marks of her throat. “To include your blood.”

“So, until then, you’ll just drink from others?” Gods she couldn’t get her mouth to shut it already—was she really pointing a finger at him for eating ?

The ferocity in his glare softened against her claims. “You know it’s not like that. I don’t feed from them; I just drain them. There’s no connection involved, not like there is when taking directly from a host.”

“Why do you have to drain anyone at all when I’m right here and can give you the same thing?”

“Because you’re not a meal, Surina, and I fail to see—” The corner of his lips kicked up, his eyes going wide with recognition. “You’re jealous , aren’t you? Of a feeder ?”

Fervent heat washed her blood and flesh with a kindling rage. “No, but I’m apparently the only one who thinks it’s weird to drink the blood of complete strangers.”

A rumble churned in his chest as he ignored her reasoning. “Jealousy paints a lovely shade on your cheeks.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving at his chest to make space for her slide into the water. Searching through the receding haze of mist for their clothing on the other side. She finally spotted it and moved to make her way towards the pile. “I told you, I’m not jealous. But I can’t help but wonder how you’d feel if someone else were to bite me before you get the chance.”

A jerk at her arm pulled her firmly against the moss-covered root of the willow, and there was no more amusement in his tone, or in the way he glowered down at her. That iron hold was the only thing keeping her above the pond’s surface.

“Is that a threat?” His eyes prowled her face with a seething fury.

Shivers blanketed her spine. She chose her words carefully. And by carefully , she meant a cataclysmic selection of words that she immediately regretted.

“Worried I might take my curiosities elsewhere?” She totally wouldn’t, but with the steadfast way she spoke it, he probably couldn’t tell she was lying.

He turned into the male—the king —in the throne room. The one who’d ripped the heart from Lord Redbane for simply speaking against Surina.

Her pulse leapt when jagged spikes of ice broke the surface, enclosing them in an arctic prison. But that wasn’t the worst part, because in that moment, he’d revealed something she struggled to make sense of in her mind. Something that couldn’t actually be real. It was there, though, irrefutable evidence of what she thought she’d imagined last night with Giselle.

Protruding from his bared teeth were two ivory canines, only these were different. These were elongated, almost like a snake’s fangs.

“Is this what you want?” he barked, voice dark and rough. “I can assure you, it doesn’t feel good, Surina. Not until the saliva enters your bloodstream and makes you think it feels good. But if you intend to offer yourself up to just any fae, I’ll gladly be the first.”

In a flash, he clawed the hair from her shoulder, revealing an unmarked portion of flesh that he scraped a thumb over. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, or even scream , as those teeth—those fangs —angled towards their target.

Her .

And then, he struck.