The desperate look in Kamal’s eyes sets my nerves on edge. The way everyone talks about Acca, you wouldn’t think this dumbass shot crossbow bolts at a Limus demon.
Next, Horus steps up to grip Lincoln’s arm, his features on edge. “You’re the last chance we have.”
The edges of Lincoln’s mouth round with a grin. He’s so not worried, it isn’t funny. “And have I ever failed you?”
Kamal scowls. “Not yet.” They finally leave; the door slams shut behind them. Lincoln exhales slowly.
That was close.
In one swift movement, Lincoln moves to face me, his mouth finding mine. The Prince’s tongue plays across my lips, quickly driving deeper with need. Heat flows through my veins, pooling in my core. Lincoln’s body shifts as presses me against the wall, the motion just rough enough to make me moan. Damn, that feels good. My legs tremble as I taste him over and over, his muscles flexing and releasing as me moves against me.
Lincoln sets his mouth by my ear. “You’re lucky those Earls can’t hunt worth a damn. I could hear you breathing from across the room.”
I lick my lips and smile. “Lucky me.”
The Prince stares at me for a long moment. “That was the part where I lose control because I didn’t expect to see you.” He shoots me a shy smile. “Next is the part where I say we take things slowly.”
“Thank you.” Although if I didn’t have such an awful reason for visiting him, I’d talk him into returning to the first part.
Lincoln links his fingers with mine, and then leans back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Our arms swing in a happy motion. It feels insanely good to see him. I smile for the first time in what feels like years.
“Lincoln, what did my eyes look like yesterday?” I stay flush against the wall, careful to keep my head and hood in the shadows.
“Oh that.” He frowns, remembering. “They were changing colors. Brown, blue, red. You said it was from your lust demon awakening for the first time.” He leans in and nuzzles my neck. “Did I mention how much I liked red?”
I laugh. “That you did.” Last night during our walk, we’d take breaks and kiss for a while before one of us would say ‘taking it slowly.’ Over time, it turned into (what else) a competition to see how fast Lincoln could get my ‘eyes to spark.’ Hottie Prince pain-in-my-butt. “No less than six times, as I recall.”
He purses his lips. “As long as I’m consistent, that’s what matters.” He looks at me out of his right eye. “Is that why you came here, to ask me that?”
I fidget against the wall. “No, I came here to show you something.”
Lincoln’s face creases with concern. “Okay. What is it?”
My stomach ties into knots. “What if I were different from who you thought I was?”
His voice stays calm, his face unreadable. “Like how, different?”
“What if I became someone who was a risk, a target?” Nervous energy zings through my body. I have the perverse desire to kick a hole in the feasting hall table. “Someone who needs to disappear for a very long time.”
Lincoln moves closer, wrapping his long arms around me. “And you’re afraid of what exactly?”
I close my eyes and snuggle into his shoulder, inhaling his scent of forest pine and leather. My body relaxes. This is what I’ve needed all day long. Here, with him holding me, I feel like I can say anything. “We’ve already got a lot stacked against us, Lincoln. Maybe you’re better off with someone like Adair.”
“Really?” He kisses the top of my head, gently. “Did you know Adair thinks Simia demons are cute?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re lying.”
“I wish.” He slides one hand up my back. “You’re hiding your eyes again, Myla.”
Damn, he is a good hunter.
His fingers entwine with the back of my hood, slowly pulling it away from my face. “I already told you. I like it when your eyes turn red.”
I grit my teeth and steel my shoulders. It takes everything I have just to keep my gaze level with his. Once he understands what I really am, this could be over, big time.
Lincoln’s forehead furrows. “Your eyes are blue.” His mouth thins to an angry line. “Did someone from the House of Striga cast a spell on you? So help me, I’ll—”
“No, it’s not that.”
He cups my face in his hands, his features drawn with worry. “Are you sick?”
“No, nothing like that either.” I open my mouth, ready to tell him I’m the Scala Heir. What comes out is a fragment of the truth. “My father is an angel named Xavier.”
Lincoln’s mismatched eyes stretch wide. “The archangel Xavier? I studied him at the citadel. Greatest warrior in history. Legend says he never loved anything but battle.”
I let out a high-pitched humph. “Until he met my mother.”
“I can see that. If she’s anything like you.” The Prince eyes me carefully for a minute, his face creasing with confusion. “I don’t understand. That would make you—” He swallows. “That’s impossible.”
“I thought so too.” I bite my lips together. How do you convince your kind-of boyfriend that you’re a one-of-a-kind soul-swapping super being?