Oh, you bet your feathery ass we will.
“What are you looking at?” Dante’s question yanks me out of my seething.
I may not be the crow’s number one fan right now, but I still need him, so I grit out, “The stars. They’re blinding on this side of the kingdom.”
The prince’s jeweled eyes level back on mine. “Brighter than on our side?”
My jaw is still so tight that the words come out clenched. “Probably not from Isolacuori, but certainly brighter than from Tarelexo.”
Dante studies me as though trying to see past the walls of my mind. I make sure to buttress them.
“May we continue this conversation at my family’s ranch? I forgot my cloak, and there’s a bite to the air.”
His gaze drops off my chin to travel over my collarbone and bare shoulders. Even though I’m still reeling over my discovery of Morrgot’s clandestine talent, I cannot help but shiver from Dante’s prolonged scrutiny and the ensuing sparkle that touches his eyes.
He may have come with some other woman, but I affect him.
His fingers travel over the gold buttons of his white jacket, undoing each. He spurs his horse toward mine, shrugging out of the elegant garment, then releases the reins, and leans forward in the saddle to drape the heavy white fabric over my shoulders.
The scent of him rises from the collar—mineral with hints of salt and musk . . .familiar. I inhale deeply, letting it reach into me and mollify my mood.
Dante lingers beside me, his leg and eyes pressed to mine. “You scared me, Fallon.”
The heat of his murmur razes everything around us, every sound, every color, every onlooker.
I suddenly don’t care an iota about Morrgot’s deception. As long as he makes Dante king, and me, his queen, the crow can mislead me all he wants.
Furia bites the rump of Dante’s horse, eliciting a pained whinny.
“Furia,” I chide my stallion. I’m about to ask what’s gotten into him, when I realize it’s probably not awhatbut awhom.
Although tempted to glare in the general direction of the sky, I avoid casting my eyes upward and settle on thinking a few terrible thoughts about the crow.
Better get on your way, Behach Éan, for you have no throne to sit on until you make me whole.
His pet name is really starting to get on my nerves.
“Fallon?” The groove between Dante’s eyebrows tells me it isn’t the first time he’s called out to me. He nods to the open gate.
I don’t have to touch my heels to Furia’s flank or shake the reins. My stallion, as always, knows the way.
As we cross over into Tarespagia, my jaw begins to relax and my petulance to wane. Which isn’t to say that I’m feeling forgiving.
Keeping my gaze on the sandstone ramparts cinching pureling estates, I decide to take full advantage of the crow’s intrusion.Since you can read minds, Morrgot, tell me what thoughts are scrolling through Dante’s. Does he suspect I’m lying?
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Dante eases his horse beside mine.
Unlike in the streets of Selvati, a herd of horses could stampede down this avenue shoulder to shoulder.
I fasten the top button of Dante’s jacket so it doesn’t fall off. “Come to you with what?”
“With your desire to travel to Tarespagia.”
“I heard you had company and that I wasn’t to disturb you.” Who knew the princess of Glace’s presence would be so convenient after all?
Bronwen. . . A little voice that isn’t Morrgot’s answers. Bronwen surely orchestrated this. My skin prickles with renewed awareness of mypuppethood.Did Bronwen invite the princess, Morrgot?
Dante’s jaw clenches. “You promised—”
