“I’m going to start sleeping on the sofa,” she moaned pitifully, her pretend misery melting into a grin as he continued to shake in now-silent laughter against her.
“I’ll be right out there with you, breaking my fucking back all night just to keep you warm. How am I supposed to know which pillow is mine if your head’s not on it, dove?”
Silva found herself pinned entirely beneath him then, the long line of his body covering her own, her thighs spread as he settled between them.
“There’s no other octopus I’d rather have capture me.”
His mouth was hot against hers, and at the first press of him within her, Silva’s head lolled back, gasping as he kissed down her neck, his cock seating within her in one slow press. She whimpered, sinking her fingers into his hair when he began to move.
“I want you to make me a promise.”
His voice was a curl around her ear, a curious reverberating echo moving through her head. He felt too far away, which didn’t make any sense, as he was right there with her. His hips were moving faster now, a driving pressure that made her moan.
Faster still,toofast. Her own pleasure hadn’t kept up with the pace he’d set, far too fast for her liking. Silva shifted beneath him, wiggling her hips in an effort to realign them, somethinghealways did, always ensuring she was comfortable, that it felt good for her too, that she was teetering on the edge of her own orgasm before he began chasing his own. That he’d not done so now was entirely out of character.
“Promise me that you're going to live your life, little dove.”
Thereit was. She wheezed once sparks of pleasure began to light up behind her squeezed-shut eyes, finally rocking againsther in just the right spot. His voice was still an echo in her head, dissipating like smoke. Her fingers tightened in his hair.
Promise me.
A reverberating echo, rattling her skull. Silva felt him shudder above her and his hips surged, still deep within her as he finished, all she ever wanted. Her teeth found purchase against his skin, the line of muscle between his neck and shoulder being too tantalizing to resist, the same place she’d bitten him before. He groaned as he came, her teeth sinking into his tender flesh.
Don’t wait for me, Silva.
“What the fuck?!” A cry of pain, and then she was roughly dislodged. “What the fuck iswrongwith you, Silva?”
She gasped, the room spinning. It wasn’t the bed she was expecting, not the room she thought to find herself in. Tannar. It was Tannar. Her husband. Tannar who’d been atop her, Tannar whom she’d just bitten. He was bleeding from where she’d broken the skin, his eyes moving between the bite mark and her in horror. Reality swept in with a crushing wave, dragging her down in its undertow. Tate was gone, and this was her life now.
Silva nearly fell in her scramble to get off the bed, the room pitching like a boat as she crossed to the bathroom, barely making it over the threshold of the door as she retched. The door swung shut as she dropped to her knees before the toilet bowl. The wave of nausea was interrupted only by her sobs. She could hear Tannar cursing in the bedroom beyond, storming out after a moment, likely to the bathroom down the hallway to wash off his bleeding skin.Bleeding because you bit him like an animal.
The cracks in her performance were beginning to show.
She wasn’t a warrior, wasn’t anything like the elves of old, bloodthirsty hunters who would have crossed the veil without a moment of compunction, dragging back her intended and leaving a trail of fae blood in her wake. She’d gone back down her rabbit hole, back to those dark corners online that could not befound unless one already knew of their existence, learning what mightactuallyawait her if she used her key.
They’ll trick you. There’s no getting out once you’re in. They’ll hunt you for sport, they’ll make you a slave to their queen.No one mentioned anything about being eaten, but Silva had decided the cat-like man at Bell, Book & Candle had maybe not been as off-base in his predictions on what would happen to her as she might have hoped.
And now her performance at home was falling apart.
Silva didn't knowwhyshe thought she’d be able to do this, let alone do it forever. After all, she reminded herself, Tannar had married a package deal, one she’d not delivered on. A perfect trophy wife, a baby to occupy her, their place in Elvish society secured. She’d not held up her end of the agreement.You’re barely providing the wife part.
“What?” Tannar’s eyebrows had drawn together across the table, the night she’d made the tentative suggestion that she might find a job. The night of their first true fight, the first time Silva saw their relationship clearly, outside the puppet play stage.
She’d left the house that day with the singular goal of distraction. Winter was at an end, technically, but it still held an icy grip on this vacuum of entertainment she now called home. The street that ran through town had shops, but they were small and never seemed to have anything new. The antiques she’d looked at during her first explorations of what passed as a business district were the same items still gracing the shelves and probably had done so for the last twenty years. The boutique that sold accessories and random home tchotchkesdidregularly rotate its wares, but the human owner was right there the instant she stepped inside, dogging her heels and asking if she needed help, trying too hard to sell lotion and earrings, despite Silva’s insistence that she was just browsing.
She’d wound up at the library. It wasn’t particularly well-stocked, but at least it was quiet. She’d walked down the aisle of romance novels, sadly running her finger over the spines. She’d packed her books away and hadn’t picked up her e-reader since the move, no longer able to lose herself in the promise ofhappily ever after. Upon her exit, she’d noticed a small placard at the door, an advertisement that they were hiring a page.
“Excuse me.” Silva of the Daytime was a mouse, but she was very good at getting along, being pretty and polite. The two librarians working were both human, one her mother’s age, the other maybe a decade older than herself. They turned at her voice, pausing their conversation, the older of the two giving her a warm smile. “Is-is this still current?”
She’d left with a slight bounce in her step. The humans seemed nice enough, not scary or overbearing at all, and as she’d chatted with them, the children’s librarian had come wandering out of the backroom, a goblin with an infectious laugh. They seemed nice. They’d been encouraging. They seemed like co-workers she would enjoy having, a few hours a week.
“Why would you want to get a job? That doesn’t make any sense.” Tannar had raised his hands in an exaggerated questioning manner, as if he couldn’t puzzle out her words, assuming she was joking.
“It would just be a few hours a week,” Silva insisted, neck heating that she even had to ask permission to do so.Why do you have to in the first place?She didn’t want to admit that she had already spent so many hours trawling the bottom of the deepest, darkest corners of the internet that she was vaguely concerned she might wind up forgetting how to act in polite society, for as much time as she’d spent inimpolite corners. “It’s not an office job. I’m not going to be gone every day. They’re looking for a part-time page at the library; it’s just putting books away. It’s not like I’m suggesting signing up to be a blood bag at avampire clinic.”Not that a vampire would ever willingly choose to live someplace as boring as this.
“What?”
Her eyes snapped up at his peevish tone, widening when she realized her internal thoughtsmighthave slipped out of her mouth without her notice.
