“Why wouldn’t he seek vengeance?”
“To keep the queen from gutting everyone he has left.”
“Clan Amber.”
He nodded.
“You wouldn’t sacrifice Clan Bismyth to end the queen’s reign.” The words came out as a question.
His gaze met mine evenly. “You think I’m a monster.”
He hadn’t answered my question. There was something raw and needy in his golden gaze, and I felt myself soften. “Did you see the griffin fight on my side? Do you think I believe monsters are what we’re told?”
He laid his hand over mine on his knee. Heat pulsed between us. “You are wildly unpredictable, Never.”
His eyes lingered on mine, his pain softening into something gentler, something he had carried for a long time.
“It must hurt that you and Ander hate each other now.”
“There’s no hatred quite as intense as love burnt to ash.” His lips quirked. “Now I have confessed my greatest wounds to you. I can charm half the kingdom, but I have always been unlovable to my own mother. I found a family and lost them. Then I made another with Clan Bismyth, and I fear that one day, I’ll falter just as Ander did and betray my purpose.”
“I see a world governed by terrible cruelty that I can end.” He leaned forward, his golden eyes lit with dangerous fire. “And because I am the one who can end that cruelty at some terrible cost, I am dangerous to anyone who trusts me.”
“Are you trying to scare me off?” I asked, raising my browsbecause that was so unlike the charming prince. Was this the real Fieran, buried under eighteen masks?
Then, slowly, I understood. “You want me to see the worst of you. To know if I’ll betray you too. You want that just as much as you want me to serve your plans. Because you’re still lonely.”
He scoffed, but his rejection of the words was unconvincing. “I’d rather you called me a monster than called melonely.”
“I know.” I leaned forward and kissed him.
It was an uncertain brush of my lips against his. Clumsy. I wasn’t unpracticed, but I felt odd with Fieran, exposed and a little silly in a way I had never felt with Galin or the others.
I started to pull back. Maybe it had been ridiculous to kiss him after he poured out all that pain, as if I thought it would be healing.
Fieran’s lips followed mine. His hand rose, threading into my hair, anchoring me to him. His lips were warm and soft and claiming.
Fieran kissed me as if he needed me.
And I kissed him back as if I needed him too. My hands slid up the hard, warm planes of his bare skin, as if I couldn’t touch him enough.
He slid under my tunic, his hands warm and rough on my bare skin. I moaned into his mouth, and his fingers tightened on my waist as if that sound might destroy him.
“Let me see you,” he murmured, pulling away just enough to work my tunic up my side.
“Please.” The word came out curt. He was always full of flattery, but what was the point in pretending I was beautiful like the Fae?
He pulled back for real then, pausing us both with his hands on my hips. His gaze searched mine. “I think you’ve misunderstood me.”
“Is that so?” I asked archly. “I recognize my mortal…curves…have a certain novelty, but?—”
His hand went to my throat. I gasped as his fingers curled around my throat, the web of his hand pressed against me hard—nottoohard, not yet, but enough to carry the promise of floating. “I’ll choke you rather than hear you insult the body I worship.”
I tried to say something, and he loosened his grip enough for me to do just that. My voice came out in an eager rasp, changed by the loss of my breath. “Do you think that’s athreat?”
He let out a laugh, throwing back his head. “Fuck, I could love you.”
Both of us faltered for a heartbeat, though I was still smiling; whenever I made him laugh, I felt a giddy sense of power.
