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Widening my smile, I allowed him to assist me, whispering "thank you" as my feet hit the ground. They throbbed immediately — the heeled slippers the stylist insisted I wear, somehow pinching my toes and rubbing my heels raw at the same time.
Between the shoes and the damn corset digging into my hips, it was honestly a wonder I could move. "Proper" women's clothing was just a polite name for pretty torture devices. Invented to keep women placid and incapable of running or speaking more than a sentence or two at a time.
Someone called to us from the crowd, and tension radiated through the hand holding mine as the man pulled me closer, looping my elbow around his arm.
His very muscular arm.
Forsaken hells. A heavy heat settled in my belly. Perhaps I'd need to thank Lady Frexin after all …
I could do with some friendly companionship, and this man might be exactly what I needed.
Leaning in, I offered my best flirtatious smile.
My heart skipped at the familiar scent of moonlight and fallen leaves.
"Tye —" the name was torn from my lips as those yellow eyes of his drifted down my body, hot and angry.
At one time, they'd been full of a different sort of heat.
"Witch." His voice was raspy. "On your way to spread more lies?"
The heat inside me writhed wildly as it did whenever he was near.
My throat tightened, and I searched for an escape, but the crowded walkway stopped me. A scene would be the opposite of what Frexin would want.
"I told you to stay away from me," I hissed. "As did Lady Frexin. And your boss."
His lips ticked up at the side. "It won't matter when I reveal the truth," he growled, quiet enough so only I could hear as we walked.
"While on my leave of absence, I learned that on top of you being some sort of mage, you were also part of the Gleyma cult two years ago." He paused. "And you're now using your powers to find dangerous relic creatures — though to what end, I'm not sure." He looked down at me, jaw tight. "Perhaps to support the Rogues in their rebellion against the right and holy kings?"
My breath caught as his theories landed dangerously close to the truth, but I forced my face to remain impassive. "How many times must I tell you? I am not a mage. And I was not part of that gods-forsaken cult — they KIDNAPPED me!"
He growled and squeezed my arm tighter. "The last piece is to figure out how you passed the Trials," he hissed. "Before you, I would have thought it impossible for a mage to cheat that test, but it appears your lot has found a way."
I forced myself not to look at my ring. He'd learned far more than I'd expected in the past year.
Hells! If he got any closer to the truth …
"If only King Torsten would believe me. Somehow, your Lady Frexin has convinced him I'm the crazy one. But we both know the truth, don't we?" He stared down at me, those yellow eyes burning from the inside. "I just need to find some way to prove it. Then you'll get what you deserve."
"Enough!" Gritting my teeth, I leaned closer to him. "As I have said a dozen times before, I'm not sure what happened to you. But it wasn't me. I understand that's hard to grasp, and that it's interfering with your life." I looked at him, long white hair disheveled beneath his hat, clothes hanging loosely from his shoulders. Little remained of the meticulous giant of a man I’d first met. For that old version of him, I could keep my emotions in check, though.
"That must be hard," I continued. "But it wasn't my fault. And if you continue with this harassment, I will have to report it … again. You were already sent away for a year," I hissed. "What do you think comes next?"
"That's easy, Witch." His lips curled into a sneer. "At night, I dream of the day you're collared and confined with the rest of the mages. Forced to hunt by my side."
Forsaken hells!
The slim leash on my emotions snapped. There was nothing left of that sexy tinkerer in this monster.
"A single kiss can't fucking CURSE you! What kind of magic would that even be?" I jabbed my finger at his chest. "And I am not 'yours'. I didn't bewitch you to take over your brain and plant myself in there. That's not even possible! And if it were, it wouldn't even matter," I hissed. "Because I wouldn't choose YOU of all people! So, back the FUCK off."
Growling, he leaned closer until his breath tickled my ear, the scent of leaves and freedom unfurling around and inside me.
"So you say … but did you know that just the forsaken smell of your soap is enough to get my cock hard?" He dropped his head so his nose pressed into my neck and a shard of heat stabbed straight to my core. "That it's hard right now as I stand here hating you with every bone in my body?"
My mouth went dry and my body clenched at the thought of his hard cock slamming into me — begging to complete what we'd started the night of our date.
