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I felt exposed as it dropped from my arm. It felt intimate somehow—as if he was undressing me. And the fear of showing weakness to such a commanding, lethal fae made me want to pull away.
“How were you planning to take care of this?” His voice was low and rough.
I steadied a breath. “I was going to sneak into the infirmary.”
“Is that so? And do what exactly? Rummage the shelves until you stumbled across something you thought would help? This isn’t Wendover, firefly. Pick the wrong salve and you’d have toes growing out of your arm.”
I ripped my hand from his. “What am I supposed to do?”
His smirk turned into a full toothy grin, and I shifted on my feet, realizing I was still in my undergarments and hyperaware of every inch of my body. Every wrong sensation coursing through me.
“You could ask for my help.”
Just when I thought he wasn’t, Talon reminded me how insufferable he was.
“Yeah, and what’s the catch? I think I’d rather take my chances growing toes.”
“Honestly, Elowyn, when have I given you a reason not to trust me? Isn’t it getting exhausting fighting me every step of the way?”
He had a point. I hated it when he had a point. And that deep, deep down, I think I did trust him.
Reluctantly. Maybe not entirely.
Perhaps it was the thick air clouding my judgment, but the fact was, something shifted between us. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it frightened me and intrigued me all at the same time. I knew I couldn’t get caught up in it, though. These trials required my complete attention. Not to mention it was wrong. He was an arrogant, murderous, wicked, insufferable faerie.
However, there was nothing wrong with being friendly, right? It’d be to my advantage to stop fighting him, wouldn’t it? I’d simply play nice for the advantage. No other reason.
Talon dropped his head, his onyx hair brushing his forehead. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He flicked a small knife from his sleeve. It had unique markings whittled into the hilt, identical to the ones on the arena’s entrance. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help every once in a while, you know,” he continued.
My heart fluttered despite the fear that ran through me. How long had it been since I’d had someone to rely on, to lean on?
“In fact, it’s a strength, not a weakness, to allow yourself to be vulnerable.”
I took a step away from him. “What are you going to do with that?” I breathed, wrapping both arms around my middle.
Talon held his hand up at his chest, balancing the knife between his thumb and index finger. “I only need it to access my abilities. In order to heal you, it’s blood for blood. I won’t use it on you, I promise.”
With a curt nod, I took a controlled breath, and he tipped his chin toward the chair. “Take a seat.”
I did what he asked and sat on the velvet cushion, the soft fabric caressing my back. Talon kept his gaze locked on mine—focused and sure—and I felt calm. Secure.
He kneeled between my legs, his elbow brushing my inner thigh as he reached for my hand. Was it on purpose?
My breath hitched at his touch, sending a shiver up my spine.
I watched his cheeks darken—as if he could sense the effect he had on me. And he guided my forearm on top of my knee.
Prick.
Talon placed his hand on mine, his palm up, and pushed the tip of the dagger into his skin. He didn’t so much as flinch as he dragged it across his hand, carefully ripping into flesh. But his chest rose and fell in steady breaths.
Blood pooled in his palm, and I couldn’t take my attention off him. How effortlessly he could draw such a complex design. The way his veins bulged with each movement. And how his brows pulled together with such intense concentration, he didn’t seem to notice his hair fall into his face.
I itched to reach out and push it back, but I didn’t want to disrupt him. Didn’t want to give in to the impulse. Instead, I only marveled at his hard work, trying to ignore the way his touch burned into my skin. Seared me with his fingerprints.
He removed the dagger once the symbol was complete, and it glowed like the sun at high noon—harsh and with fiery promise. I felt the warmth and power that rolled off him as Talon closed his eyes, only reopening them once his blood and the carving had disappeared. His once emerald orbs blazed a deep gold color, and words became lost on my tongue. He was breathtaking. Ethereal.
My skin warmed in response to whatever this unfamiliar feeling was that coursed through me. I didn’t want it to stop.
