Page 159 of Taken By Shadows

“Maybe you’ll be the one who begs.” My breath was a warm whisper across his jaw.

I ducked out from under his arms and stood in the study.

His hands barely flexed, but I heard a groan of the wood as he remained statuesque for a moment. Eventually, he turned and took a deep inhale through his nose. I missed the confines of his arms, but I held myself steady. As I turned to leave, my foot crossing the threshold, he was at my back.

“And peach”—his hand ghosted over my bare shoulder but didn’t touch—“you will beg for me.”

Every fibre of my being wanted to turn and beg him right there to touch me and taste me. To take me on the desk. Against the bookshelves. On the rug before the hearth. Any of them. All of them.

My mind and my body were warring. I might not be ready to be with Kaed fully. I was going to have to work on that because I wanted him, and the thought of him begging me … that was something I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist.

Chapter forty-nine

Audrie eyed me, backing away as I clutched at tulle and gossamer and satin.

I had pulled everything from the armoire that had been filled with endless dresses, all beautiful. Beaded gowns in silver and lavender, gossamer skirts in teal, sienna and navy that looked as smooth as carved marble and as light as stardust.

But I didn’t want just any dress. I wanted the dress I chose to hurt Kaed when he saw me in it. Not hurt, but I wanted to make him squirm. Ache. Just as he had done to me. He would beg me.

“Can’t you just wear this one?” Audrie pulled out a white and silver piece with a high neckline and no sleeves. Its sheer fabric was beautiful. It looked like spider silk under moonlight.

I half smiled. “And before you suggest it, no, I’m not asking Kaed for anything.” I hesitated. He’d definitely tie me to his bed again if he saw even the slightest opportunity to. No outfit? Well, I suppose you can’t attend … I shook my eyes clear. “He’s busy, regardless.”

Tymon and Kaed were currently downstairs discussing tonight. Tymon was obviously stricken that Sapphine would do something so heinous. But the point of the conversation was not to make Tymon feel sick at his wife’s actions. There were twelve council members. And we only needed to speak with ten of them. Celeste and Morgana were not on our suspect list tonight.

We each had our targets. Ashen and Hael, Audrie’s friends, were even being enlisted to help with the human council members. I would stay with Kaed because he insisted on it as a condition of my attendance. I didn’t like that he was being so imperious about this, but I could see his perspective. I’d just been threatened and attacked. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. And part of me was glad to know he’d be close by.

The second reason was at my behest. To soften dispositions to Kaed.

“You’re panicking,” Audrie stated, as a bundle of fabric spilled out of my hands.

“I just … I need it to be … more?” Audrie’s head tilted to one side. “More …enticing.” I restrained a smile again.

I didn’t know why I thought this sweet person could help me, but I was out of options with everything I had in front of me.

“Help me?” I pleaded, handing her the garments.

Reluctantly, she grabbed the dresses. And then she grinned.

In true Audrie form, she was out the door, shouting something about being back soon. I caught the tail end of her saying something about Kaed’s credit in Viverna.

It didn’t seem like Audrie would be back any time soon at all, so I grabbed a book and headed for the orange trees in the garden.

I had been reading for hours in the sun, and the blossoms of the orange tree overhead had dappled the dazzling rays.

So far, the heavy text was mostly just a dense historical record of every fae born in Aurora. Pale hair, beautiful with moon-kissed skin and power that rivalled the sun. Mostly, it was an ode to Aurorans. It wasn’t very objective. I wondered if I had read my parents’ names—possibly my name—and hadn’t noticed. It was a relatively new volume, judging by the clean pages and unmarked edges. But I might as well have been reading a dead language for all the clarity it offered.

I scooped up an orange from the grass and began peeling it, the zest fizzing into the warm, lazy air. I could have fallen asleep on that bench. There were few worries in this garden as the sun danced with the leaves.

It lasted only for a moment, until I felt something tug on my senses. It was like a whisper. A breath of wind that drifted to me. If the wind had colour, it would be silver as it spoke to me here.

Opening my eyes, I found myself moving towards the back of the garden, to the door Kaed had led us through just a few nights ago.

The whispering intensified until it sounded like a voice.

A male voice.

“Eryk?” I said in disbelief through the closed door in front of me.