Page 105 of Blood of the Fairest

My pulse pounds in my ears as I wait.

Chains rattle. Something heavy drags against the stone ground. I steel myself when I feel body heat near my face, that same warm spice scent I noticed before drifting over me.

Every nerve in my body flip-flops when Malivant speaks. Whatever face this monster wears, he's close enough that I can almost feel his quiet words moving against my bloodied lips.

"I sense that this spell is sound. But know this: if Reinhilde's nefarious blood harms me, I shall not bother to stop my wrath from killing you this time."

As terrifying as this jerk is, irritation mingles with everything else I'm feeling.

I clench my clammy palms, lifting my chin higher. "Whatever her blood might do, I'm pretty damn sure it can't be worse than having to kiss you."

His soft scoff brushes against the cooling blood. "Take comfort in knowing this shall be equally revolting for both of us."

Then Wrath's lips press firmly against mine.

I almost flinch at the initial contact, but mostly because his lips are surprisingly…warm. Soft, too.

It feels like I'm kissing a man instead of a faerie—right up until the moment our mouths both part for the barest of milliseconds and I know I feel the tip of a fang drag across my lower lip.

Just like that, I wrench away, taking a big step back.

The instant the kiss ends, another wave of magic crests through the air like a warm buzz.

Malivant is still obscured by darkness, but any concerns that the queen's blood might make him explode or something dissipate quickly. The deafening sounds of metal shackles clanking to the ground along with heavy chains fill this prison for a long moment.

That's followed by a quiet sigh of relief. There's a big whoosh inside the cage, and I back two more big steps away when I accidentally glimpse a massive wing unfold. Its feathers are black, but fade into a startling scarlet at the tips.

"Freedom at last," the Thirteenth Faerie murmurs.

Thank god. It worked.

Quickly wiping away any traces of blood on my lips, I press my bleeding finger into my skirt and turn to offer Wulf his knife back.

The Huntsman eyes the blade as if he resents it. Finally, his big, rough hand covers mine, clearly lingering on purpose until he takes the knife and sheaths it once more.

Suddenly, I'm hyper aware that Wulf and Eris both just watched me smooch a faerie. Wulf, who has made it very clear that he's down to get down—and Eris, who apparently feels something for me.

Just thinking about either of these gorgeous fairytale guys wanting me in any way makes my heart do something really fucking weird.

But both of them?

Good thing I'm about to go home, or else I might've been tempted to step right into that budding love triangle scenario. Love triangles are the bane of my existence.

Plus, I genuinely have no idea how I could ever choose between my ethereal confidante and my rugged Viking-like protector.

The thought of never seeing either of them again is making it really hard to articulate a fitting goodbye.

I clear my throat. "Hey Thor, does this whole pledge thing still hold up when I'm gone?"

He nods once, but gives no details.

"In that case, help Eris find his body and escape the mirror realm. Then just forget I was ever here, okay? Go live a good life doing whatever it is you want to do, and… I'm sorry again for feeding on you."

Wulf's gaze burns like dry ice. "I only wish you sated yourself with me more."

Ditto.

Self-control was the right choice, but I know I'll be whipping out my vibrator back home to thoughts of this dreamboat for a long time.