The prince’s nostrils flared, and he ran a hand through his hair. The movement made his bicep bulge and his wings flex. I tried not to notice, tried to stop my attention from shifting to that gesture, and tried to stop from noticing how incredibly thick all of his limbs were. The male was pure muscle. Everywhere. And it wasn’t the bulky type that some males had who tried to increase their build. It was the type that came from a naturally powerful frame with muscles that had been honed from actual combat and use.
“I wasn’t sure what the reasoning was behind your bruises when I first saw you,” he finally said, his words like ice. “So I didn’t ask. But if I’d known that archon had done that maliciously to hurt you, I would have—”
“You knew it was Vorl?” I blurted out, then remembered how the prince had glanced at my throat and then to Vorl back in the barn. “But how?”
The prince took a deep breath as his aura still pounded out of him. “Illusions leave residual magic. When a fairy with an illusion affinity casts their magic, it leaves a mark, like a flavor or calling card. If you’re in tune enough with your affinity, you can pick up on that mark and track what fairy did it. The magic woven around your neck has a very distinct mark that was tied directly to that archon.”
“Oh.” I shook my head, stunned. “I had no idea.”
“It’s not something fae like to advertise. When one’s illusion mark is able to be identified, it can be embarrassing. Only fae with stronger illusion affinities are able to see through the illusion of a weaker fairy.”
“Meaning you can see through Vorl’s illusions, but he can’t see through yours because your affinity is more powerful than his?”
“Correct.”
The prince didn’t elaborate. Anger still swirled in his eyes, and his strumming aura kicked up another notch, causing a second round of ripples to shoot across the pool.
Seeing as how the prince didn’t seem inclined to say anything further, I asked, “So . . . why did you think this wasn’t done maliciously?” I gestured toward my bruises.
“Sometimes females welcome choking,” he replied distractedly.
My head cocked. “They do? When would a female ever want to be—”
I snapped my mouth closed just as the prince smirked. Blessed Mother. How embarrassing. I might be an untraveled fairy, but I wasn’t entirely na?ve. I’d heard that some females liked to be choked while their partner pleasured them, that it could heighten the experience. Granted, it wasn’t something I was into, and I’d never asked the males I’d been with to do such a thing. Still . . .
Cheeks aflame, I said, “I didn’t realize you were into those types of kinky activities, my prince. Not that I’m judging,” I added.
“I never said I was.” He arched an eyebrow, some of the rippling anger around him morphing into amusement. “But you sound quite surprised that royalty could have a fondness for such bedroom activities.”
I wanted to submerge in the pool and drown right there.
The amusement on his face grew.
I fiddled with my hands and cursed the large male for making me feel so ridiculous. “Whatever fae choose to do in the bedroom is their business, not mine. So if you do like choking, choke away, my prince.”
That infuriating tilt to his lips remained as he drifted closer to me and said in a low tone, “And what about you, Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory? Are there any kinks that you like?”
My eyes widened, and I shoved another wall of water in his face. The wave splashed him, and since he once again didn’t try to prevent it, I guessed that meant he didn’t have a water affinity too.
Aghast, I managed to say, “Are you really asking me about my sex life?”
He wiped the water from his face for a second time, his sly grin lifting even more. “That’s twice now you’ve assaulted me in this pool.”
I snorted. “Well, arrest me then.” I tapped my chin. “Oh no, wait, sorry. I forgot that you already have.”
His smile spread. “Have you always been this insolent to authority?”
I ground my teeth. “Well, until you and Vorl, I never had the need to be.”
His smile disappeared. “You’re comparing me to him?”
I shrugged. “In all honesty, my prince, I’m not sure how much you two differ. You both take what you want when you want it, except you . . .”
“Except I what?” His jaw clenched, the muscle bulging in the corner.
I’d almost told him that Vorl hadn’t murdered anyone, at least as far as I knew, and that he certainly had never killed anyone in my family, but with one glance at the prince’s lethally cold expression, I stopped. “Nothing.”
The prince studied me a moment longer, the tension flowing from him sending another ripple through the water.
My heart beat harder, and I didn’t move.
He abruptly stood, and water cascaded down his chest. I shoved back against the rock as he prowled past me, and despite willing myself not to look at him, my traitorous eyes drifted from his square jaw to the rounded balls of his shoulders, past the heavy slab of his chest, and then to the defined abs beneath it. The water hid what was below his waist, but a clearly defined “V” headed south.
The second my eyes drifted toward his cock, I firmly forced them back up.
When I did, I found the prince watching me at the waterfall’s edge. “And you’re calling me the creep?”
With that, he ducked through the waterfall, and his giant wings disappeared with him. Embarrassment flamed through me until the prince’s next words snapped me upright.
“Follow me, Ilara Seary. You’re not to be left alone out here.”
CHAPTER 8
It struck me on the walk back to my room that the only reason Haxil had left me at the bathing pools was because he’d known the prince was there, so I wouldn’t be unprotected. If only I’d been astute enough to realize that.
It also explained why none of the lodge’s other patrons had been enjoying the hot springs. When the Bringer of Darkness lounged within its depths, one could hardly blame a fairy for being skittish and unable to relax.
Back inside the lodge, I followed the Death Master down the hall as a perpetual scowl painted his features. Apparently, he didn’t like being called a creep and was so bothered by it that he also didn’t care that he was strutting around half-naked.
He hadn’t used one of the lodge’s robes. Instead, a simple towel was looped around his waist, which only amplified his toned abdomen. Wings tucked in tight to his back were like a narrow slit down his spine. Muscles bunched and moved in his shoulders, and ridges that I had no business seeing seemed to beckon my attention as he dipped around corners.
The prince was masculinity incarnate, a beautiful sculpture of death that would delight any female in the throes of her demise. It took everything in me not to throw a dagger at him—if I had a dagger, that was.
Cool air brushed over my skin as we made the final turn to my room. Since I didn’t have wings, the slits in the back of the robe allowed a breeze to flow freely across my backside. I just hoped that my bottom wasn’t on display. Normally, I had to buy my clothing from the youth vendor booths in Firlim’s market. Since pre-pubescent fae didn’t have wing buds, their clothing was still complete in the back, which meant that it kept my bare back covered, unlike adult fae clothes.