"Do you wish to know which realm you hail from? Who are your parents? I'm sure?—"
I hold up a hand, bracing myself against the familiar pain in my chest.
I've long since made peace with never knowing who sired me. No need to reopen a wound I've spent decades closing. I have no desire to learn anything about my fairy lineage.
"No. The less I know about this realm, the better."
It is the wrong thing to say. I instantly wish I could pull the words back, but they've already reached her. The warmth in her smile ices over. Flying on her wings, she puts physical distance between us again.
I want to scream.
To haul her against me and never let her go. I don't know why being away from her unsettles me. Even my beast begins to pace within his cage, desperate to have her near. Once my curse is lifted, perhaps so too will be this incessant need for her.
At least I pray it is, or I'll spend the next thirty years of my life searching for another portal to find my way back to this infernal world.
Back to her.
"Of course," the Queen says through clenched teeth.
"Arden, I didn't mean?—"
"You needn't explain. Your opinion of my realm—of me—matters little. Our relationship is nothing more than an arrangement." The cold wind picks up, slicing through my flesh. "You are a servant to my realm's plight."
My hand reaches out of its own accord, capturing her delicate wrist.
She whirls towards me, eyes wide in surprise. Her wings beat in time with my heart. I pull her forward. Green, bare feet sink into the rotted grass as she cranes her head back.
For someone so small, she has the power to bring me to my knees.
"That's twice you've called me a servant."
She arches a pink brow.
"Your point?"
My hand drifts from her wrist to wrap around her upper arm. Her soft flesh is warmer than the sun. My other hand goes to her stubborn chin and tips it up. I stare into her eyes, swirling with gold and green.
A man could drown in such a gaze if he isn't careful.
This is the most I've touched her since we met, and it's not enough. I want to feel her body against mine. The richness of her scent deepens. Her nipples bead against the front of her gown, and I know the trembling in her body doesn't have anything to do with the chill.
She can be flippant and dismissive of me, but her body tells the real story. She wants me just as much as I want her. It's why my words hurt her. Why she banters back and forth with me. It is a dangerous revelation, but I welcome it all the same.
"You don't look at me like a servant, Queenie."
Her pink tongue slicks along her lower lip. My fingers trace over her round cheek, delighting in how she sways into me. Her fluttering pulse makes me long to taste it with my mouth.
I'm not a noble man.
I've never been reviled for my patience. Since I was a child, I was taught to claim what I want. To seize it with force and never let another take it.
Arden is what I want. Even if I have no claim on her, it matters little. She is mine.
My beast growls in agreement. I will not leave this realm without keeping some piece of her, no matter how small, with me.
My heart rests in her small palm, whether she knows it or not.
The fire kindling in her gaze is the barest acknowledgment of the desire we share. It threads between us, binding us in unbreakable irons.
