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Bodin folds his arms and stares at her.
“Okay, then,” she mumbles and awkwardly points to the door. “I’ll just... yeah. Get some food, I guess, and... yeah. Do some stuff. Maybe even head into the Nexus.”
“No,” Bodin and I both clip. Our eyes clash. At least on this, we’re on the same page. She must be protected at all costs. We don’t want to draw attention after Milford’s disappearance.
I gentle my tone. “You had a harrowing experience yesterday. You should rest.”
“Fine.”
“Call for me if you need me,”I send her.“And Willow, I’m going to fix everything. Trust me.”
She gifts me with a shy smile and then quickly walks out. When my gaze swings back to Bodin, he still stares at the space she vacated.
“That was rude,” I drawl, raising my brows. “Next time, just ask to join in. No need for the theatrics.”
His dark brows slam down, and he shakes his head. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Dark circles beneath his eyes remind me that he, Legion, and Emrys refused to take sustenance. A thrill flutters through me at a mischievous idea. I close the gap between us until we’re toe to boot. If all goes well, and Varen’s long-awaited predictions of our happily ever after with our queen come true, then I’ll never have this power over Bodin again. He’ll always be the Second. Always be stronger, bulkier, a hammer to my wing.
“You may be the Fifth, Fox, but you were the first to understand true freedom.”Varen’s voice bubbles from my memory.“Catch our falling star, give her your heart, and she will guide us home.”
For years, I ransacked my brain, trying to understand why Varen thought I understood true freedom.
We need love.
Unconditional love.
We need someone who accepts us, fangs, chaos, and all. She might not love us yet, but she will. I just need to keep my arms open, keep waiting for her bright light to fall into them.
“Time to feed, Bodin,” I state.
Before he can pull back, I grip the knot of his braids and tug his mouth against mine, making sure to smear the last remnants of our queen’s desire over his lips.
He stills. Gasps. But draws more of her scent into his lungs. His mouth opens enough for me to spill more sustenance. It only takes seconds, and then his wits return. He palms my chest hard, sending me sprawling backward.
“The fuck?” he growls, dark eyes flashing. He might have his wings clipped, but he’ll gladly try to beat me to a pulp. I’m not in the mood to burst his little bubble.
I’m not sorry and shrug to show him. “Legion said to force it down your throat if you refuse.”
“Varen’sthroat,” he grumbles. “Not mine. I want nothing to do with her unless it’s to help us save Styx.”
“Oh yeah?” My brow arches, and I look at his tongue slowly sweeping his lips. “Then why are you savoring her taste?”
His lips part, then press together in a flat line. I’ve never seen him so flustered. Normally, he’s the first to lash out with violence, to crush his opponents in one fell swoop. It’s Emrys who likes to make the torture last. But Bodin’s fists flex at his side. Tension pulls his broad shoulders taut. He gives me a harddon’t fuck with meglare, and then he storms out.
My amusement dies the instant he’s gone. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be running from her taste. He should be begging for it. I close my eyes and trace my lips while mentally replaying every last glorious second of that act. I hope the more I do, the more I’ll commit it to memory. Because if I can’t figure out how to stop them using her to save Styx, it won’t happen again.
Chapter
Forty-One
WILLOW
The next morning, Bodin unleashes a new nightmare on my body: running laps of the frosted grass courtyard behind the keep. Snow comes in sparse, random spurts over the day. It’s not enough to make training out here difficult.
Any time I pause for a breath or a drink, my sweat turns to ice down my spine. My hands are strapped to protect them from frostbite, but apparently, it’s not too cold to be out. My woolen trousers, cream tunic, and leather vest are useless protection against the elements. But at least my breasts are pinned. I’m on my fourth lap, and they remain under control. Peablossom got that part right when she designed the outfit.
Or was it Legion who gave her the notes? He seems the type to notice details and direct everything down to the cotton used in hemming.
