Dyna didn’t move, nor did Cassiel. His tension left her stiff, his breath on the back of her neck rising the fine hairs on her skin. But his touch, she missed. It was a secret craving uncovered by the grasp of his palm, and she didn’t have it in her to move yet.
“I thought I warned you,” he said, his tenor rough. “You must stay near, or you will be spirited away.”
She shifted back, causing his hold to slip away. His wings flared behind him, the impressive wingspan as wide as he was tall, before tucking against his back. There was fire in the way he looked at her, the glow of heated metal in his stare. Gold stained his lips.
She noticed the empty goblet he held, and gasped. “You drank the wine?”
The beautiful angles of his face sharpened. “What of it?”
His irritation sat bitterly in her stomach, heating her skin. He was irate with her. With Aston and the dress, by the way he scowled at it. His silver eyes snapped to a pair of male fae ogling her. One look at Cassiel made their complexions pale, and they took an unsteady step in retreat.
“Your pardon,” one said, with a weak clearing of his throat, and they made a quick escape.
A rough sound rolled in Cassiel’s throat, and his cool gaze fixed on her again.
“Why must you wear this wretched thing?” He brushed a finger over the thin dress strap, sending goosebumps down her arms. His jaw clenched as his gazed slowly roved over her exposed skin.
She’d never seen that look on his face before. Anger mixed with something else that burned in his eyes, wide pupils nearly swallowing the silver. He leaned in so dangerously close, his breath coated her lips. It smelled of sweet faerie wine and ... desire. Her throat bobbed, a rush swooping through her.
“Why,” he asked in a low rumble, “must you tempt me?”
Her heart raced in her chest. “Prince Cassiel, you’re not yourself.”
It was the fairy wine, nothing more. But Aston’s words taunted her.It’s no more than wine to the Folk, but for others, it makes them drunk with desires they wish to deny.
His expression tightened. “That is my title, but when you say it with such formality, it sounds like a barb.”
“It’s not.” It was a separation to remind herself of who he was.
They were two different people from different societies and ranks. She had become too comfortable with him beyond what was appropriate. She had her place, and he had his.
Dyna pushed past him, heading away from the revelry. Which direction had the others gone? Perhaps they had better luck. At least those were the thoughts she forced into her head.
“Please.” The plea in his voice was so incredibly soft. Cassiel took her wrist and his thumb faintly caressed the scratch there, making it throb. “Do not run from me.”
“I wasn’t the one who ran first.”
He had been the one to push her away. The one to construct his wall.
His gaze held her captive as he closed the distance between them. For every step he took, she retreated one. He kept coming until her back pressed against something firm and rough. Dyna’s nails dug into the bark of a tree.
Cassiel’s stare bore into her, and she did her best to look anywhere else but him. “I did not run.”
As he stepped closer, his feathers lightly caressed her upper arms, firing tingles all over her body. His warm breath wafted over her skin, and her mind stalled, air locking in her lungs. Those silver eyes gleamed—dilated and pronounced in the faerie lights. Spelled by some magic.
“That’s a lie,” she whispered. He was so close. As close as he was that day on the cliff.
Cassiel observed her, considering. Deciding. He looked at her the same way he had when his lips had grazed hers in a promised kiss that didn’t come to pass. She should move, but she couldn’t look away. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and the forest spun. A long moment passed where he didn’t move, where she didn’t breathe—then he leaned down. Dyna gasped, and he froze. For a second, his control slipped on his side of the bond, and she was hit with chaos and want and war.
“You call me a liar, but was it not you who lied?” Cassiel murmured. “I recall your promise not to turn your back on me.”
Dyna tried to answer, but only a shallow breath left her mouth. She had meant the promise when she said it, and meant it even now. But she couldn’t talk to him like this. Not when he looked at her as if he would kiss her at any moment, and when she thought she might want him to. Her body tensed with anticipation as his lashes lowered, heart trembling at the base of her throat.
Cassiel inched closer, bringing his body a hairsbreadth from hers, and her breath caught when his head dipped low. His soft lips brushed against her earlobe, sending a current of shivers across her flushed skin. “Do you hate me, Dyna? Or do you hate the bond that makes you mine?”
Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly breathe. He lifted her chin, and fire danced along her skin. His ambrosial musk fell over her and she leaned into his touch, a part of her not able to deny his pull. Dyna read the intent in his hooded eyes as he drew her mouth to his. A wild breath rushed through her chest—then panic. She tore her hand from his grasp and slapped him.
Shock flashed across his face.
