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“You probably can’t talk about it,” he murmurs thoughtfully, running his gaze over my body, marking every pore and freckle like a constellation in the night sky. “She’s probably forbidden you to speak about it, but I know it’s here somewhere. I scented her magic on you last night. I can’t for my life find signs of what the curse does to you.”
How can he not see it all over my face?
“Wh-what do you think I look like?”
“Beautiful.” His answer is immediate. Definitive. Unwavering. “Like our always queen.”
I avert my gaze and shake my head, but he lifts my chin.
“Willow. That she’s cursed you means you’re still a threat to her. With or without your power, she’s terrified of you.” His apprehensive eyes dart between mine. “Can’t you see what that means?”
“Maybe she’s just a petty bitch.”
He laughs. “Oh, she’s petty, alright. But only for those who threaten her power.”
“She found me because I dreamed of you, that’s all.”
“You did?”
“It was just dancing. But I remember the city was much like this one. Are you telling me it was probably a public dreamscape?”
“It makes sense. Dancing with us undermined her authority. You might have dreamed secrets that shouldn’t have been revealed. Like our wings or?—”
“I did. I dreamed you all had wings, and we danced above everyone else.”
His lips curve. “Is that something you want? To dance with us in the clouds?”
“That’s not the point.”
“You’re right. The point is, if you didn’t dream of us, she would have carried on, never caring about your existence. Butfor your dreamscape to travel here from Elphyne... that’s... that’s something.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“My magic has been erratic around you lately. Until now, I never understood why.” He looks at his hands wrapping mine. “I think we’ve already started bonding with you.”
“What?” I step back, my pulse racing.
He moves forward, refusing to allow me space. My back hits the table, jostling the contents on top.
“After Legion touched you on that battlefield, we developed the ability to shift and to walk under the sun.”
“From me?”
“We echo our queen so we can protect her best. When she orders us,” he explains, “we must obey. Our nature is to revere and submit to her. So when you refused my help last night, my magic wouldn’t work properly. But when you were drowning, and I needed toflickerto save your life, it suddenly worked again.” His expression becomes serious. “Willow, you belong to us.”
“Fox . . .”
“Deny it. Try.” He cages me in with his hands.
My mouth opens and closes. Nothing comes out. I don’t know how to answer. I’m just confused.
“Being our queen means you’re ours, but we’re also yours.” His tone lowers as he inhales my scent, eyes fluttering as if I’m a drug. “Allof us. I just need to make the others remember somehow.”
“All of you . . .” I repeat.At once?
“We’ll bow to you, obey, worship, pleasure, feed, and protect you with our eternal lives. We’ll exist for you and only for you because you are our skin. Without you, we fall apart.”
Worship... pleasure... an image flashes in my mind—me, surrounded by all of them. Hot, naked, sweaty. Arousal vibratesdown to my core, spreading hot, prickly, uncontrollable need. It’s so sudden and violent I fear my heat has unexpectedly come on, even though I’m not due for a month. The only other time a shifter feels like this is when they meet their mate.
