A warm flush suffuses my skin, and I take a small step closer, parting the willow branches further. Again, the man angles his head, tongue fluttering. The woman whimpers, tosses her head from side to side, eyes still closed. An involuntary pulse throbs between my legs.
“Don’t move.” A hot expulsion of air steams the side of my neck, the order drenched in a honeyed tone. Then the long, lean shape of a body warms the length of my spine.
I practically vibrate with the urge to pull away. I cannot stay here. To watch—
“Closing your eyes will make no difference,” Zephyrus whispers. “You have already seen.”
It is true. How I hate that it is true.
In the dark behind my eyelids, there lingers the imprint of two people coupling. The man’s groan sends a dart of heat through my core. The bed squeaks. There is the slap of skin colliding, wet and immediate.
“Tell me your thoughts, darling novitiate.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. “Why do they do this here?” My voice wobbles. “Anyone could stumble across them.”
“I believe that is the point.”
The woman moans wantonly, and I flinch. A weight sinks onto my hip—his hand?—then is removed. “Why does she allow him to do this?”
“He brings her pleasure,” murmurs Zephyrus.
“He touches her inappropriately.”
“Does he?”
Their breathing spikes, audible over the squeaking bed frame, the man emitting low grunts, the woman’s gasps climbing to higher frequencies.
“Have you ever touched yourself?” Rich and throaty, his voice reminds me of every temptation. “Look again,” he says.
I must be under some charm. It is the only explanation as to why I follow his instruction. There is the couple on the bed, their languorous movements and flushed, open mouths. The man mounts the woman from behind. An uncomfortable warmth spreads through my lower belly.
“Why did you abandon me?” I demand, voice low. “You left me alone, among all those creatures.”
Zephyrus leans closer, and the smell of rain washes over me. “I wanted to see what kind of woman you are. Do you close your eyes, or do you face the uncomfortable truths of the world?”
“What does this prove,” I mutter, “except to make me feel small and afraid?” Whirling around, I brush past him. “If that was your goal, then congratulations, you have accomplished it.”
Zephyrus catches the sleeve of my dress. “Don’t you want to see how it ends?”
The couple, he means. I am ashamed to have been caught staring. More so, I am ashamed by my inexplicable fascination with the display. Why should I care how it ends? It has nothing to do with me.
“No.” I yank my arm free. “I want to return to Thornbrook.”
Zephyrus sobers then, stepping back to give me space. “About that.” He brushes aside a curl falling into his eyes. “There is something I must do first.”
I’m quickly realizing the depth of my stupidity. Trusting a man I know nothing about. I feel helpless, for Zephyrus is my only way out of Under. I must follow him whether I want to or not.
We depart the woods in silence, trees exchanged for a soaring, pillar-lined hall located at the far boundary of the grove, the chaos of the lake muffled by growing distance. Eventually, mist clouds the air, its cooling touch dampening my dress. The walls narrow into a small chamber where a waterfall pounds white foam into a pool below. Pink lights flicker from crannies in the walls.
Partially submerged rocks provide a crossing over the water. Zephyrus leaps across with ease. I pick my way across slowly, following him into an even narrower tunnel behind the waterfall.
“From this point forward,” Zephyrus says, “I will go alone.”
My stomach bottoms out. “You’re leaving me again?”
He glances sidelong at me. “Not for long. The person I’m meeting would take an interest in you. For your own safety, it is best to remain out of sight.”
A nice sentiment, but rather pointless considering how many of the fair folk noticed my presence at the festivities. Then again, why take unnecessary risks?
