“You flew tonight when you found me, didn’t you?”
I release the two remaining cakes from their ramekins so I can store them for tomorrow. “I did.”
“Can I see it?”
“See what?” My gaze shoots to hers, my mind still lost in treacherous waters. Seductive ones.
“Your unseelie form.”
I run a hand through my hair, wondering if this is wise. Why is she lingering? I know why I am, but…
With a resigned sigh, I seek the magic that allows me to shift, a warm tingling that’s always alive in my blood. With a shudder, the magic ignites, and my wings sprout from my back while my horns curl from the sides of my head. My eyes dart to the partially open doorway and the dark hallway beyond. Spreading one wing out wide, I extend it behind me, then thrust it forward. A gust of wind funnels through the room, closing the door the rest of the way.
Briony jumps at the sound. “Why did you do that?”
“No one in this house has seen me like this. Alina and Father knew about my fae heritage, but no one else. Not the staff, not Monty. No one.”
Her brow knits together. “Just me?”
“Just you.”
Her eyes rove over my wings, my horns. “Does it ever get exhausting hiding your past?”
“It does.”
“What will you do after we break the curse?”
That’s a question I’ve had to ponder myself lately. And I don’t have all the answers yet. “Once I’m reunited with the Lemurias, I won’t be able to hide my history. The Blackwood name will fall under scrutiny, and I’ll certainly have a scandal to deal with.”
“Will you discard the Blackwood name after that?”
The question sinks my heart. “I don’t know. I am Thorne Blackwood just as much as I am Vintarys Lemuria. Maybe more so. Blackwood Bakery and Estate have become my life. I don’t know how things will be for me after my family awakens.”
Her expression turns sympathetic. “You thought you had to wait one hundred years to see them again.”
I nod.
She tilts her head to the side and studies the length of one wing. I extend it farther to give her a better look. My chest tightens at her scrutiny. I feel bare like this, with her seeing the parts of me no one else has. Her lips curl into a pout. “How unfair is it that you have an unseelie form when I do not?”
“You don’t think you can shift?” It’s not unheard of for a pureblood fae to be unable to shift. While most fae can—even those with only some fae blood—there are types who have only one physical form. I never considered that a bad thing, but the wistfulness in her face tells me she considers it to be so.
She shakes her head. “If I’m a succubus like my mother, I don’t think I can shift into another form. My magic is tied to dreams. I think my dream formismy unseelie form. And I look the same in both dreams and reality.”
“You don’t need another form. You’re already overwhelming in this one.”
Her eyes lock on mine. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment.”
“It is.”
With a soft smile, she splays her hands out on the countertop just behind her hips and leans back slightly, posture relaxed. It does terrible things to my imagination. She kicks out her legs in a playful manner. “I don’t hate you tonight, Thorne.”
My chest tightens. Whether with guilt or desire, I’m not sure. “That’s unfortunate,” I say, holding her eyes. “I was hoping we could have that hate-tryst I suggested a few days ago.”
She tenses, legs ceasing their lighthearted kicking. For one moment, I can’t tell whether I’ve enraged her…or enticed her. The former had been my intent, but if it’s the latter…
I swallow hard, waiting for her reaction.
Finally, she rolls her eyes and hops off the counter. “I’ve changed my mind,” she mutters and strides from the room with her arms folded over her chest. Her exit seems to take all the warmth from the room with her.
