I imagine being subjected to his wind storm. And, possibly, losing my blanket. “Uh, no thanks.”
Sylvian snorts. “Nice try, Ashton.”
For a while, no one speaks. The only sounds are the crackling fire, the river, and our own breathing.
Then Ashton glances over, eyes twinkling, and says, “You know, I’m impressed, little human. Not a single one of us got a good peek at you.”
I try to glare at him, but it comes out shaky. “If you want to see a naked girl so badly, go back to the castle and have your pick.”
He grins, but there’s no meanness in it. “It’s not the same. Fae women are beautiful, yes, but they’re all the same. You’re…” he tilts his head, as if searching for a word, “unexpected.”
I pull my blanket tighter, hating how it makes my cheeks burn. “Is that a compliment?”
Sylvian looks over, his voice soft. “He means it kindly. When you live as long as us, sameness is a death sentence.”
There’s another long silence, and I find myself staring at the fire to avoid looking at the bodies around it, but my traitorous gaze continues to drift about. The heat from the flames brings out the shine of Sylvian’s skin and the deep shadows of the scars on Oberon’s chest. Ashton’s hair dries in quicksilver waves, andCassius’s profile is sharp and beautiful, like something carved from ice.
I can’t help but look.
And, of course, Ashton catches me. He winks, then spreads his arms, blanket slipping so I get an even better look at his body. “Enjoying the view?”
I choke on my own spit.
Oberon’s eyes narrow. “Put that away before you blind her.”
Ashton beams, unbothered. “You’re just jealous she prefers wind to fire.”
Sylvian laughs, soft and genuine. “She prefers earth, you can bet your life on that.”
They keep bantering, but I stop listening, too distracted by my own embarrassment. I wrap myself in the blanket like a cocoon and stare at the fire until my eyes sting. For a while, it’s almost peaceful. I could almost forget we’re in a death maze.
But then, out of nowhere, Ashton says, “This would be the point in the evening where the wind court would start an orgy.”
The fire crackles. Silence falls like a hammer.
“What’s an orgy?” I ask, confused.
Ashton grins. “Imagine if we filled up all your holes.”
My jaw drops open. “Myholes?”
Ashton snickers. “You know, with our…”
I picture the animals on the farm. “But there’s only onehole!”
Sylvian and Cassius are laughing behind their hands.
“Think a little harder,” Ashton says, then grins. “Or, I can paint a really clear picture for you of what your mouth is used for, and your hands, and–”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
Sylvian looks at me with sympathy. “Fae culture is… different. We don’t have the same hang-ups as humans. Weshare everything with our own kind—land, food, even partners. The idea of being possessive is very funny to us.”
“Unless you’re desperate to hook a king,” Oberon mutters.
Cassius chimes in, “Sylvian’s exaggerating, but not by much. Our houses do have different customs, but it’s not orgy time every night for all of us.”
