It depicted two young human boys and a girl posing in front of a large, green metal conveyance that only resembled the cars he’d seen outside because of the wheels attached to it. A golden field of wheat stood behind the children.
He recognized Ember by the bright blue of her eyes, though her hair was fully black rather than silver. This was her as a child, and he could only assume the boys were her brothers based on their resemblance.
The sizzling sounds persisted in the kitchen, and aromas drifted to him. He recognized those of cooking garlic and meat, accompanied by something sweet and fragrant.
He set down the first painting and picked up another. It was one of Ember and another woman. The two were leaning into one another in a partial embrace, their smiles wide and bright. The other woman was shorter than Ember, with long red hair, pale skin, dark brown eyes, and red-painted lips. She wore a black gown with lace sleeves and a black veil in her hair, and she was clutching a bouquet of red roses. But it was Ember who captivated Nyte. Her hair was black, cascading over her shoulders in soft curls. She wore a sleeveless red corset dress that cradled her large breasts and cinched at her waist before flowing over her flaring hips.
Beautifulwas not adequate enough a word to describe her.
A soft giggle came from over Nyte’s left shoulder. “I think you like her.”
His muscles tensed, but he caught himself before squeezing the frame too tightly, returning it to its place with deliberate care. “Relative to how much I like you at the moment, yes, I quite like this witch.”
Starling flitted to his front, her lips spread in a sharp-toothed smile. “Ha! I knew it, because I know you adore me.”
He dragged his tongue across the front of his teeth. “I’ll not allow your intentional misconstruing of my words to get under my skin, sprite.”
“Oh, do not be so stubborn, Nyte.” She flew closer and tapped the tip of his nose. “If you would let go of your distrust and anguish, you would see that Ember could warm that cold heart of yours.”
She waggled her brow. “And your bed.”
Growling, Nyte shooed the sprite away with a wave of his hand.
Starling laughed and flew out of his reach. “There is nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of the flesh.”
Sex.
It had once been foreign to him. He’d watched others copulate, had even been intrigued by the act—there was something primal about it, something gritty and passionate, something real in a way little else seemed to be. But he’d never experienced it himself, had never felt the urge to do so, not until…her. Until Sarnessa. She’d changed him. She’d awoken something within him, made him crave, made him need.
And then she’d left him cold and hollow.
He had no want to experience that icy emptiness again.
But with Ember, that carnal desire had rekindled. Hells, it had been stoked into a damned inferno. He could only imagine the intensity of the cold snap that would follow.
Nyte glared at Starling. “Have you not meddled enough in my affairs, sprite?”
She leveled a finger at him. “You needed some meddling, or you would have continued to waste away in Despair.”
With her fluttering wings shedding flecks of star dust that disappeared before they reached the floor, Starling zipped past Nyte to peer around the corner at Ember. He hurried after her, grabbed her by her tiny foot, and dragged her back.
“Hey!” She tugged her foot away and put her four hands on her hips with a glare.
“Oh no, no, no. You’ve no right to be cross with me, Starling.Iam cross withyou. You’ve cursed me to a month amongst mortals.”
“And how much time have you spent amongst mortals in the past? You sorely need to remove the stick from your posterior and see this as a gift. A disruption of your stagnant routine.” She tilted her head. “Was today truly so terrible?”
Nyte pressed his lips together, clenching his jaw, because he knew the honest answer to that question, and it didn’t require any thought.
No, the day hadn’t been terrible. Quite the opposite in fact.
But he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit that out loud, especially not to Starling. He’d never hear the end of it.
Without thinking, he leaned aside, peeking around the corner into the kitchen. Ember stood at the stove with her back toward him, fussing over whatever was on the burners. His eyes raked over her body of their own accord, from that long, silvery hair all the way down to her feet.
Void consume him, but she never failed to be a sight to behold.
His gaze locked on the curve of her ass.
