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His reaction is instant, gold pouring into his irises. “Teasing changeling.” He pulls me up so I straddle him and wraps one arm around my back. “You dare bite your mate?”
“I dare quite a lot.” I lean forward and nibble at his lower lip.
“Beth.” He growls and rests one palm at my throat as he claims my mouth in a searing kiss.
I return it, pouring all the passion I have into this kiss, this embrace, this moment spent with the one who sets my soul ablaze. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I turn myself over to his care, and he pulls me so close it’s hard to breathe, impossible to think.
A knock at the door pulls me from my lusty haze, but he won’t let me go. His mouth chases mine until I’m drugged on his kisses even though the knocking doesn’t cease.
“Sorry to interrupt the sex.” Parnon stomps in, clearly not the least bit sorry. “But we need to prepare.”
Gareth growls into my mouth.
I push him back. “Not so fast, handsome fae. Parnon is right. We need to do this right so we can actually come out alive on the other side.”
“At least let me pleasure you with my tongue.” His feral dances along the surface. “I can smell your desire, little changeling.”
Parnon groans.
My cheeks redden. “In front of Parnon?”
“In front of all. It’s no matter.” He licks up my throat. “Your bliss is my only concern.”
“I’d rather not have to witness such things.” Parnon huffs but doesn’t leave.
“I’ll tell you what.” I slide my hand down his chest, abs, and even lower. When I grip his hard cock through his pants, I might black out for a second. Okay, maybe two. But then I’m back. “When we get through this alive, I’ll wrap—” I peck his cheek. “These lips.” Another peck on his other cheek. “Around.” Peck. “All of this.”
He thrusts his hips against my hand. “All of it? I think not, changeling.” His smirk curls my toes.
“You’ve always told me I have a big mouth.” I kiss his lips. “I’ll show you just how right you are.” I’m almost certain that if it weren’t for Parnon, I’d already be on my knees. Having Gareth under my command, his body bound to my touch—it’s a heady sort of aphrodisiac that becomes more addictive each time.
“Urghhhh.” Parnon rubs his sandy face with his palm.
“Deal.” Gareth grins as magic singes the air.
“Get dressed, winter realm slaver.” Parnon points to the ridiculous outfit, then glances at me. “And if you truly intend to pose as a harlot slave, you’ll need to dress the part.”
“I have just the thing.” Silmaran leans against the doorframe, mischief in her eyes.
“I bet you do.” I climb off Gareth, though I immediately miss his warmth.
He follows my movements with the intensity of a predator. I may add an extra sway to my hips as I walk away. His low purr tells me he noticed.
“This mating stupor is going to blow our plan,” Parnon grumbles.
“On the contrary, I think a lusty winter fae will be the perfect element to attract Zatran. After all, he’s quite fond of the flesh.” Silmaran takes my elbow and leads me away from Gareth.
Parnon shrugs, his thick shoulders rolling like boulders. “Get dressed, my lord, we need to talk strategy.”
I can feel Gareth’s gaze on my backside as I turn down the hall.
“He is mentally humping you right now,” Silmaran whispers.
“I know. Isn’t it great!” I whisper back.
We laugh, and for a moment it’s like we’re back at Granthos’s, the two of us huddled in my room as I recover from my most recent bites and she recovers from her most recent lashing. But we couldn’t be further away. Granthos is dead, she’s a slave leader, and I’m … Well, I don’t know what I am, but I’m free, and that’s what matters.
We walk to another opulent bedroom, this one done in a brilliant cerulean blue. The golden bed curtains contrast the blue walls and give everything the sense of being too much.
“This must be Chastain’s room.” I spy the rumpled bed.
“Our room, yes.” Color blooms high on her cheeks. “I still have a hard time believing all this is real.”
“That you are bound to a fae noble, live in a house as grand as Granthos’s, and intend to free all the slaves in the summer realm?” I sink onto the wide bench at the foot of the bed. “Yeah, I have to say, it’s all pretty wild. How did you meet him? He sort of glossed over the particulars last night.”
“Oh.” She turns away and pulls open a wide drawer that’s set into the wall. Clever set-up. Rummaging around, she pulls out a few highly inappropriate clothing items, then turns to me. “Which?” She holds up an emerald green top that barely has enough fabric to cover even my small breasts with equally skimpy bottoms attached to a gauzy, see-through skirt. In the other hand—well, I might as well be naked.
“I’ll take the green.”
“Perfect.” She bumps the drawer shut with her hip and returns to me.
“You didn’t answer my question.” I take the proffered attire, what little of it there is.
She blows out a burst of air, and for the first time in … ever, I suppose … she seems nervous. “Well, heboughtme and then we realized—”
“Wait, back up. I didn’t quite catch that first part.” I lean back on the foot of the bed, my elbows sinking into the luxurious pillows.
“Fine.” She knits her fingers together. “He bought me at the slave market.”
I wince. “Bought you because he fell in love when he saw you?” My tone is hopeful, but I’m not that naïve.
“Well … no.” She sucks on a tooth. “He needed a kitchen slave. I was up for bids to go to the mines, and he saw me, and he wanted me.”
“Wanted you, eh?” I elbow her.
“Exactly.” She wrinkles her nose. “The bastard.”
“But when he got me, he quickly realized I wasn’t going to fall on my back with my legs open for him.”
“Shock of his life, I bet.” I can’t mention it to Gareth, of course, but Chastain is highly attractive, even for the notoriously-good-looking summer realm fae. His golden hair, silver eyes, and cut physique would be highly prized in Byrn Varyndr. Here in Cranthum? He’s a god, if gods were real.
“It was.” She glances at the messy bed. “But times have changed.”
“Spend a lot of time on your back, do you?” I waggle my brows.
“On my back, on my knees, on top of him.”
“Sitting on his face, I hope.”
She smacks my arm. “You’re just the same.” She cocks her head to the side. “But different, too.”
“Good different?”
“Definitely.” She looks at the wall, as if she can see all the way to Gareth’s room. “And it’s clear why. You’ve found your match.”
“Don’t go getting all mushy on me.” I sit up and shimmy my dress over my head, yanking it off and staring down at my body.
She doesn’t quite gasp, but almost. “There are so many more.” She presses her fingertips to one of the
scars on my collarbone. An errant bite from Kizriel.
I wall up my hurt, refuse to give in to how ugly I feel. Instead, I pull my shoulders back, proudly putting myself on display despite the yawning void of self-loathing that threatens to swallow me whole.
“I meant no offense.” She traces her fingers along a few more of the bites, her eyes growing hard. “I hope Granthos is being roasted in a pit at the base of the highest Spire.”
“Nah.” I try to figure out which way the skimpy top goes on. “They wouldn’t give him such grand treatment. He’s probably serving as a meal for an obsidian witch. Though, based on how Gareth left him, he’s probably only good as a dash of seasoning.”
She snorts. “Perfect.”
I finally figure out how the top goes and pull it over my head. “Are you sure I can pass as a harlot with all these scars?”
Her eyes warm again, the amber turning rich. “You’ve always been a beauty. The scars can’t take that away from you.”
I would laugh, but the seriousness of her tone gives me pause.
“You excel at hiding it, but I see how it hurts.” She pulls me into her arms.
At first it’s awkward, but then I relax.
“I know your heart, Beth.” She squeezes me tight. “And I know how strong it is. Believe me, you are beautiful.”
“I’m ruined.” Eyes, stop watering. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“You are exquisite. And if you doubt me for a second, believe Gareth. I can promise you that when he looks at you, his eyes tell a story of your beauty and strength. I’ve never seen a male so smitten.”
“It’s just his mating urge thing.” I take a deep breath. “It doesn’t mean anything. Not really.”
“Is that so?” She pulls back, one eyebrow raised. “Now who’s lying?”
I roll my eyes, the tears receding. “You were always too clever.”
“I’m only half as clever as you.” She takes the green panties from me and turns them the right way. “Most of the time, anyway.”
I stare at the way she’s holding them. “If that’s the front, then where’s the … Oh.” The back is just a thin string of leather. “Everyone will see my ass.”
