Dylan steers me out of the room and down a hallway as I search for Jordan. I know that laugh. He’s here, somewhere. “I need to go.” I pull Dylan to a stop. “Sorry, I need to get out of here.”
“He’s not your mate,” Dylan says lowly. His voice has changed, but I can’t quite put my finger on the difference.
I turn around, catching that his expression has shifted from friendly to… bored? No. That’s not it. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. “What?” I take a small step backwards.
“Your ex, he’s not your mate.” My eyes narrow as I place the shift in tone. The earlier ease and kindness have disappeared from his voice.
“How do you know who my ex is?” I take another step back, watching him warily.
Dylan doesn’t move, just cocks his head at me. “Tell me, Bliss. Do you enjoy being a succubus?”
My shoulders tense. It’s not entirely crazy that he’d clock my species. Succubi don’t have distinguishing markers like warlocksand vampires, but sometimes our scent gives us away to an experienced fae. Other succubi have always smelled rich and warm to me, but in slightly different ways. How the hell does this guy know about Jordan, though?
“Are you a friend of his?”
Dylan looks off the way we came, where Jordan no doubt is enjoying the party. I should have assumed he’d be here. His family has amazing connections within the fae council and this is a party held for all fae in this prestigious circle. “I am offended you would think such a thing. No, I am not.”
My brows raise. “How do you know he’s my ex?”
Dylan leans against the wall, glancing further down the hallway. “Unimportant. Now, answer my question, if you would be so kind.” His almost violet eyes narrow on me.
“Why do you care?” My feet shuffle backwards and I look over my shoulder, readying to bolt out of this hallway.
“I wouldn’t.”
I freeze in my tracks, but not of my own accord. It’s like something is physically wrapped around my feet, but there’s nothing there.
“Fine,” he continues, “I won’t waste either of our time. I think I have something you might like. And I’m willing to offer it to you for a very simple exchange.”
“And what is that?” I ask. “What do you think I want?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Your mate.” He lifts off the wall, coming to stand in front of me. “And I think when you are alone and can be completely honest with yourself…” He trails off as he leans down to be somewhat eye level with me. “I think you wish you could be anything other than a succubus.”
I stay silent. Of course I want my mate. But how does this guy know I’ve fantasized about being anythingbuta succubus?
I’ve thought countless times about what it would be like to be a wolf shifter, or an elemental fae. A water nymph has alwayssounded appealing. But succubi are constantly treated less than, as sexual objects, or as sluts by other fae. So was it really a leap that a stranger might clue into that?
“So you’re good at reading people,” I fire back defensively. “It’s not like you have any control over those things.” I want to run. I want to leave this hallway, but my feet won’t budge. What type of magic is he using on me? He hasn’t muttered any incantation, nor used any potion that I can see. If he was an incubus, or a wolf shifter using his command, I would have felt his magic influencing me. And fae compulsion only works on non-kindred humans.
His smile grows until I can see his sharp canines. “Oh but I do, Bliss. Your bond is encased in strong magic that cannot be broken through. Without my help you will not find your mate.”
How could he possibly know that? “Did Bridgely tell you that?”
He cocks his head again, his brow arching in confusion. But something tells me it’s forced, that his face isn’t used to making any expressions at all. “Bridgely?”
“So what? You were listening in?” An image of this dark-haired tall fae standing outside the room Bridgely performed the ritual in, with his ear pressed against the door, pops into my head, but it’s all wrong. He doesn’t seem like the type to need to do that somehow.
“I canseeit.” He places a hand on my shoulder. The sensation is odd, like I can only feel the ghost of his touch. “Bliss, can you tell me what type of fae I am?”
I look him up and down and pull in a deep breath through my nose, trying to find a hint of something that’ll give it away. “No.”
“Because I’m not one.” He blinks and in a second his almost violet eyes are deep red.
I shrug his hand off and try to scramble back, but I still can’t move. I open my mouth to shout, but he wags a finger at me and suddenly I can’t make a sound.
“We still have much to discuss, Bliss.” He steps back, and with a wave of his hand a plush upholstered bench appears. Without willing to, I take a seat and he sits beside me. “I can help you. I can break apart the magic so you can find your mate.And, I can transform you into any type of fae you wish.”
He waves his hand again and suddenly I have my voice back. “And what? I just have to sell you my soul?”
