“Both of you, mind where we’re going!” John snapped the second they stepped out of the dead zone of the sulfur pools and into a forest.
Feeling grateful for the interruption, she rubbed at her arm and looked around, trying to reacquaint herself with her surroundings.
But Nix was completely turned around. She really had no clue what part of Kingdom she’d been tossed to. Cyrus hadn’t exactly been forthcoming when he’d banished her. She knew the pools only because of their scent, but where this forest was in relation to the rest of Kingdom, she hadn’t a clue.
Trying to shake off the soreness of her body, she forced herself to jog just a little bit faster, attempting to catch up to the blond and away from the men who’d made her skin prickle with instant dislike.
“Hey you,” she finally snapped when she got to within a stone’s throw of the blond. The muscles of his back tightened when he stopped and twirled on her and for just a tiny second, a fraction of an instant really, her heart skipped a beat.
In her initial shock of being released she’d failed to note the brilliant blond of his hair, so unlike her own. She’d always been a freaking sucker for blonds, but it was more than just his hair and eyes that had her riveted.
The man was breathtaking.
Covered in grime, it didn’t take away from the fact that he was Kingdom’s version of a young Brad Pitt—like Fight Club Brad Pitt. Super chiseled, a little scruff, some scars, rippling abs—
“Are you speaking with me, creature?” His upper lip curled into a snarl.
And...wait, did he really just call me a creature?
Glaring, she crossed her arms, feeling suddenly defensive and offended. “Does it look like I’m talking to somebody else?”
Nixie blamed her temper on her mother’s side of the family. Latin blood was highly volatile.
His lips twitched, but not like he found her amusing, rather that he didn’t believe what he was hearing.
She notched her chin. “If you haven’t noticed,” she proceeded, taking the opportunity to speak in his silence, “I just woke up. It would hurt nothing to give me a moment to collect my thoughts.”
The men behind her were unnaturally silent, one of them—Thrane, she believed he’d been called—was even glancing off to his right with an embarrassed sort of turn to his lips.
“You would speak to me thus?”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes; there were no words, seriously. “At least let me get through my spiel—”
“Creature,” his deep voice growled.
Slicing a hand through the air, it was all she could do not to stomp her foot in irritation at him. “The name is Nixie or Nix, not ‘creature,’ not ‘demon,’ not ‘dark genie.’ Nix. Got it?” She tapped her chest.
This time when his lips twitched, she didn’t think it was out of annoyance; there was a sudden glimmer in his blue eyes that made her blood spark. The man was such an asshole, why couldn’t he have at least looked like a troll?
Clenching her fists, she took a deep breath.
“Then speak, genie.”
She opened her mouth and it was his turn to cock a brow.
“Or am I not allowed to call you that, either? For you are a genie, are you not?”
Infuriating bastard.
Her teeth clicked.
“Aye, I thought so. So let’s get one thing straight, girl.” He stepped toward her, so close she could smell the sweat and soap of his body, so close she could make out the fine lines around his eyes and mouth. A very kissable looking pair of lips they were, too. Soft and plump, slightly fuller on the bottom than the top.
She swallowed hard, digging her nails into her palms.
Nixie had lost track of time, but she knew it’d been years. Possibly even decades that she’d been trapped. Long enough for her to release Eric’s stranglehold on her emotions, long enough for her to realize she’d move on someday, because he had long ago. Long enough that now this frustrating male made her body snap, crackle, and pop with pent-up desires.
“You don’t tell me what to do, I tell you what to do. That’s how this relationship works.”
Wishing she could shoot laser beams out of her eyes, Cyclops-style, she huffed. “Whatever you say, oh Master mine.” Her bow was nothing short of hubris.
He crossed his arms over his chest. And gah, what a freaking chest it was. Perfectly sculpted pecs that could probably pop a quarter off them, gleaming with sweat, and…and… “At least put a freaking shirt on,” she hissed.
His smile was pure masculine pride. “Like what you see then, genie?”
“I’ve seen better,” she retorted without skipping a beat.
A pulse in his throat fluttered and the light in his eyes vanished.
Score one for Nixie.
“Now that that’s settled”—the grizzly bear of a man stepped forward—“may we resume walking?” His words were for Brad’s clone and not Nix, but she heard a thread of something in his tone that made her suddenly annoyed.