Rumpel's Prize (Kingdom, #8)

Looking thoughtful, he tucked his hands behind his back. “It is a terrible place. The sky is red; the sun looks like blood. The stench of sulfur is everywhere. Death lingers in all places.” His red eyes took on a distant, almost haunted look, as though he were remembering an unpleasant experience.

Perhaps she shouldn’t continue questioning him. She knew she was prying, but Rumpel was a mystery she wanted to crack, to understand. Maybe if she knew him a little better she could figure out why she was here. Nibbling on the corner of her lip, she waited until they’d turned the corner before asking, “And how did you get here?”

This section of the castle was empty. The walls weren’t even made of stone but of opaque white crystal, and each footstep caused the place to echo with a dulcet hum. It was lovely.

Now his look turned happier. “Master, at great cost to himself, brought any and all that cared to join him. He knew if we remained in that land, ravished by disease and war, our kind would eventually annihilate each other. Demone aren’t known for being the kindest bunch.” His chuckle was self-effacing.

“But I’ve met Dalia and now you—you both seem incredibly kind.”

He snorted. “You can thank master for that too. Centuries of etiquette training took the wild out of us.”

“No wonder you’re so loyal.” She reached out, ready to pat his broad shoulder, when she remembered she really shouldn’t do that. Even though she had her charms tamped down to the point of nonexistent, touching was bad, which she’d relearned last night. Curling her fingers to her breast, she gave him a tight smile.

“He saved us all. I only wish it hadn’t come at such a great cost.”

“How so?” She had cocked her head, sensing that maybe she was finally getting to the heart of the tale, when he cleared his throat.

“No matter.” And then a transformation overcame him once more. Aloof and professional as when she’d first met him, he gestured toward the door they now stood in front of. “The gardens are just through there.”

“Thank you, Giles.” Her heart sank because she knew if the walk had been just a little bit longer she might have worked it all out.

“Of course, mistress.” And with another sweeping bow, Giles disappeared in a plume of black.

Shayera had no idea what awaited her on the other side of the door, but the excitement was too much to ignore. After turning the knob and pushing open the door, she stepped out and frowned, because as far as the eye could see there was nothing but a vast stretch of rolling black. Like dark clouds full of rain and lightning, the darkness roiled.

“You see what you expect to see.” Rumpel’s dark, exotic voice whispered in her ear. His presence was so near she felt the shiver of his fabric scrape across her own.

She turned, and her insides quivered at the sight of him. She wanted to be furious, angry… but again he was dressed in jeans and a tight-fitting shirt that molded beautifully to the contours of his tight stomach and muscular chest. His eyes glimmered as they raked slowly down her own body, making her feel as though she might spontaneously combust from his nearness.

“And what do you see?” she whispered in a voice grown throaty.

“Impossible beauty. Sloping, graceful lines and exotic earthiness.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, chest feeling constricted, she gulped.

“And no,” he drawled, “I’m not speaking of the garden.”

“Do you always speak what’s on your mind?”

Chuckling, he shrugged. “I hate pretense, Carrot.”

And when he leaned in, she was sure he was going to kiss her again. She’d let him, as mortified as she’d been, as much it’d hurt last night, the memory of it didn’t seem quite so sharp when he was near. But he didn’t—instead his jaw hovered just at the side of her neck and he inhaled.

“You smell of roses. So fresh and lovely.”

Lashes fluttering, stomach a twisted mass of knots, Shayera turned slightly so that their lips hovered deliciously close, so that she could feel his breath caress her. It wasn’t a kiss, but the way he held her gaze and breathed her in as she did the same made it feel ten times more intimate.

“Last night you detested the sight of me, imp.”

He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen, soft and golden amber with black flecks kissing the irises like freckles.

“I do not detest you, siren. You confuse me.”

Did he mean any of this? Sad to say that she knew so little of Rumpelstiltskin. He was a liar, wasn’t he? Did he simply hope to tame a siren?

The questions snapped her back to herself, to the dangerous game she played in allowing this man to believe he’d have his way with her ever again.

Straightening her spine, she pulled back. She didn’t want to, but she moved two spaces back. Able to breathe again, she shook her head, nervously twisting a length of hair along her finger.

“This is a bad idea. I don’t know what you want from me. Yesterday was the worst night of my life.”