The woods confused her. Every part of it looked the same to her. They could have done nothing but run in circles for all she knew, the only thing was, she could no longer spy even a glimpse of the castle’s spires.
“Bloody hell, that was close,” Robin swore, finally releasing her hand so that he could brush down his body.
Nixie was riveted, held spellbound by him as he drew his shirt up over his head. The way the moonlight bathed his lean, muscled torso, she had to bite her tongue to stave off the thought of walking up to him and licking a line straight up his chest.
Not that she was into sweat drinking, but damn. He had a fighter’s body; even the silvery lines of scars crisscrossing his pecs did nothing to detract from the beauty of his magnificent form.
Only once she turned her eyes up to his face did she see his eyes glowing like chem lights. She smirked. Nixie was starting to understand just what that meant, and she took a minute step forward.
Robin held up his hand. “Don’t,” he grunted, “just…just stay there a moment and give me a second.”
Frustrated beyond belief and ready to cry, she also understood the necessity of what he was doing. Her magical chastity belt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
They stood in silence for so long that even the woods seemed to echo with the sound of it. No bugs chirped, no beasts growled, everything was just…silent.
She curled her hands into fists, willing her body to calm down. Willing her nipples to stop being so erect and painful even when a slight caress of breeze caused her dress to rub against them.
It felt like hours before Robin finally spoke up. “So now you know why.”
“About Crispin?”
“Yes.” He nodded, shoving blunt fingers through his hair and causing the tips of it to stand up a little.
It was sheer force of will that kept her eyes off his chest. But even just looking at his face wasn’t that much better.
“But also about the secrecy, why I couldn’t share it with you?”
Nixie shoved her mask off her face, feeling silly to still be wearing it.
Nixie had begun to wonder if it was mere jealousy that’d caused Robin to want to bring his brother as low as he now was. But her opinions had completely altered tonight.
“I’m still not quite sure why you couldn’t have told me ahead of time about him, though why you wished him off the throne is pretty obvious now.”
The castle that’d seemed so inviting and warm had been nothing short of terrifying once the scales had fallen off her eyes.
“Because he compelled me years ago to keep silent on his gifts. The only people who know what he truly is, are my men and myself. And now you.”
Robin had been compelled to say nothing. She felt kind of dumb for not suspecting that might be the case.
“But I thought you couldn’t be compelled anymore?”
He shook his head. “I can’t now. But that command took hold years before my resistance to him took hold. I can only speak of this to you now because you know.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, Robin.”
“It is what it is,” he answered glumly.
Awkward silence stretched between them for a moment. Robin hadn’t been keeping her out of the loop just to be nasty or high-handed, he honestly hadn’t been able to tell her. It actually made her feel a little bit better to think it.
“He looks just like you.” She wasn’t sure why those were the first words to fall out of her mouth, but seeing a perfect replica of Robin’s face saying those things, it’d shaken her to her very core. “He could have any woman he wanted, he could—”
A soft, but cocky grin tipped the corner of Robin’s jaw.
“What I mean is…” she stuttered, tripping over her words, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Not just her cheeks, but also the tips of her ears heated at those words.
Great, Nix, why don’t you tell him you want to have his kids too while you’re at it?
“Save me my pride, and just let me believe you meant it the way I took it.” His smile warmed her to her toes. But then he turned serious once again. “To understand this story, I suppose I should tell it to you from the beginning, and why this realm has fallen into such evil hands.”
Twisting the ring on his finger he looked, not nervous, but thoughtful.
“Crispin and I were born years ago. Over two hundred by Earth time.”
She frowned. “But your story has been around for centuries.”
“Some fairy’s doing, no doubt.” He shrugged. “There is a thought here in Kingdom that when a fairy touches pen to paper and breathes a story to life, she’s not just writing a tale, but giving us life as well. If you say my story is that old, I believe you. Though I’ve yet to read the thing in its entirety.”
“Why?” Nixie wanted to touch him. To hold his hand and rub her thumb along his knuckles. To ground herself in the reality of his existence. In some ways it felt like she was outside of herself—here, but not quite here either. An outsider in a strange world full of mythical beings and creatures she could not understand.