Page 43 of Taken By Shadows

I fought a groan at my errant thoughts and pushed out of the encompassing waters.

But I came up for breath only to lose it to a scream.

Kaed was leaning against the far wall like this wasn’t a private affair. His hair fell loose over his brow with the steam of the room.

“What in the hells are you doing here? Get out!” I tried to gather the foamy bubbles to cover my modesty. His eyes landed on me, dark, hooded. Hungry.

I tried not to shift under the weight of his gaze. Something had heated inside me, far too low and deep to just be the water around me.

But then his eyes shifted. A mirror catching the light for a briefest moment before rearranging its facade.

“Is that any way to speak to your would-be husband?” He pushed off the wall with a grin.

His mood shifts were impossible to predict. Raging with darkness one moment and quipping about us, besotted in our betrothal the next.

“I don’t care what you think this game is, but it is not this.” I gestured between us for emphasis.

“You’re right, it is a game. And we’re going to play it. Properly.” He handed me a towel and made a show of looking away.

“What does that even mean?” I would have put my hands on my hips in indignation, but I wasn’t about to expose my entire self to him.

The towel still dangled between us. I snatched it, careful not to touch his fingers.

“I’ve thought about it.” He ignored me, absently picking at a selection of soaps piled in a dish. “And I think we can make this work to our advantage.”

“Our advantage?” I raised a brow as I tucked the towel around me. “I doubt that.” My hair dripped as I waited.

“I think this could be useful.” Kaed leaned back against the wall again. “Newly engaged to be wed. The questions will be about love”—the mockery of the word on his tongue seemed to burn as he bit it out—“and how we met. A beautiful creature on my arm. People are less suspicious.” His eyes fell to something insignificant on his nails as he examined them.

“How we met is not exactly a romantic epic to regale the masses.” Darkness tinged my laugh.

He looked at me then. I must have been a sight. Hair clinging to me, lips red from the hot water. Dripping wet. My heart thumped a little harder in my chest, and I shifted.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said, clearing his eyes. “This will work.”

Was he talking to me or himself?

“What did you mean? You said suspicious. Why would people be suspicious of you?”

He gave a dark laugh. “Let’s just say my father is not the most popular fae in the Four Corners.”

My eyes grappled for the scar on his cheek. I bit back my next words before I could ask about the way his father had treated him. I wanted to know … something inside me, buried under my own scars, wanted to understand his pain. But I also wanted to keep my head. Getting lost in Kaed’s past would not help my future.

He might be beautiful, but he had a short fuse that usually ended with the threat of a cell with iron bars. And violence. At least to others. He’d been surprisingly reserved with me. I thought by now he’d have tried harder to get the faebane location from me. And perhaps I was becoming bolstered by the lack of torture at the hands of my kidnapper, but I spoke to him like he wasn’t a threat. And that was dangerous. To let my guard down around him.

But it was hard not to get lost in him. He was more than the stories could ever have told me. There was an ethereal aura that clung to him, the shroud of magic and power practically phosphoresced around him. And I felt lost in him. I felt like I was following a star, not a map, as I looked to him.

And I was curious. I wanted to know what being fae—truely fae—was.

“And you think showing up to events, parties with your betrothed will somehow make you more likeable? I think it’s going to take a lot more than that to help you there.” I looked him up and down and grabbed a comb on the vanity to start working on my knots.

As I moved, I felt his gaze on me, and I allowed it to linger. Anything to drop his guard around me. Better that he see me as a pretty flower than a thorn. I could feel his gaze even as my back turned to him.

“You’re right,” he said, clearing his throat. “It will take more than that. You’ll need a new wardrobe. And combat and defence lessons.”

My ministrations came to an abrupt halt. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean?”

“The Head Sentinel, Denora,” he clarified, “will instruct you when she arrives.”