City of Fae

I only realized I’d turned my head away when the ghost of a kiss fluttered at my neck. My breath stuttered, hitching in my throat, even as his blade nicked my skin.

“There’s so much you’ve never known. To dance, to love …” The whispers teased against my neck just as his kiss had. “The queen will not allow you to live. You’ll be gone … Nothing more than a memory.”

“Memories have more power than you know.” New wicked and delicious sensations fed through me. I wanted this. It wasn’t an order or part of some grand plan. It was me. Tingling fragments of draíocht fizzled where his lips settled and then moved on. It was only the dagger hooked at my throat stopping me from twisting in his grip and devouring him. “Reign … I don’t trust myself not to hurt you.”

“That makes two of us.” His voice trailed off behind a growl. Fear mingled with desire, instincts vying for control. The blade at my throat withdrew enough to allow me to breathe, but it wasn’t breath I needed. I twisted in his grip, threaded my fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a kiss that banished any thoughts of the queen, or the concert, or who I was meant to be. He dropped the dagger, let it clatter to the floor. His arm tightened, yanking me hard against him, while his free hand knotted in my hair, clutching me so damn close that I couldn’t think past the raging desire, and didn’t want to. Driving him back against a dressing table, I reached for somewhere to put the dagger, then didn’t care, and I let it slip from my fingers so I could ease my hand beneath his shirt, over the tantalizing ripple of muscles, and soak up the feverish warmth of him. Nerves shortened my heartbeat, kicking up the tempo. Different, enticing tingles skittered low.

“Tap-tap, Alina …”

I nipped at his lip, let him chase my mouth for more, delighted at his growl of frustration, and then succumbed to his savage, hungry mouth. The queen didn’t matter. Nothing did. He was all I needed to ground me, to remind me, to bring me back from the insanity and make me whole again, make me Alina.

“I can’t …” He tore away from me, simultaneously shoving me back. Blood-red pupils consumed the tricolor eyes, bleeding the hound into his face. He stumbled and fell to his knees, bracing a hand against the floor. “You bring the worst out in me.” He breathed, grinding out the words between clenched teeth.

I stepped back, remembering who I was, and where I was, and what I was supposed to be doing. But finding it all dislocated and jumbled. A jigsaw puzzle yet to be completed. The sight of Reign—breathing hard, fast, fingernails scoring the floor—dumped me back into reality. The hound was coming. That monster I’d witnessed on the dockside would be free in seconds. I stepped forward, but he hissed, words failing.

“Reign …” I couldn’t leave him, and couldn’t let this happen. If the hound got free now, it would tear through the crowd. What was it Shay had said? That there might be a way I could control it, like the queen did. Both daggers lay on the floor between us. He couldn’t be allowed to get free. He would never forgive himself if the hound got loose. Reign glared, forcing each strained breath through his teeth. His all-red eyes fixed on the daggers, and then back to me. I could either help him or kill him.

“Reign, I …”

He bent over, releasing a pained groan as draíocht vapor spiraled from his flesh. “Do it.”

Minutes before I’d have killed him without a second thought. But he’d brought me back. Surely there had to be a way to do the same for him? I dropped to my knees beside him. He flinched away. “I can’t make it any worse.” I reached out a trembling hand. His predatory glare fixed on my fingers as though he might tear my hand off. I inched forward, closer to his face. Draíocht rose from his cheek and swirled around my fingers, licking cool and smooth at my skin. “You said when you stole my draíocht, you took some of the queen into you. So I’m taking it back, maybe I can take some of the hound into me.” My smooth, even voice belied the fear churning inside. Stay calm. Stay in control. Don’t provoke the hound.

My fingertips brushed his cheek. Sparks danced through our touch, over the back of my hand and jolted up my arm. I almost wrenched away. Draíocht vapor lapped over my hand and round my wrist, before dissipating. And Reign? Reign stared, wild-eyed and unblinking. Sawing breaths shuddered through his body.