Page 132 of The Stolen Crown

Another cord of tension snapped free in my chest. Words between us had hardly been riddled in emotion, but in this moment, it seemed we might, at last, be brothers again.

“You spoke with the king for some time.” Mira unclasped a bone clip keeping her hair out of her eyes, then sat on the edge of the bed to remove her boots.

I twisted one of the larger silver rings around my center finger, a sigil of the House of Kings I’d commissioned the turn after the war. I grinned at her over my shoulder. “Aye. We sobbed like babes, embraced, professed undying affection for each other.”

Mira snorted a laugh. “Yes, and I’m in love with a sea singer.”

“What about a sea fae?” Godsdammit. The bleeding question slipped free before it was a half-formed thought in my skull.

Mira’s breath caught. “How did you know?”

Blood pounded in my ears. I turned. Slowly. “Is that what you’re saying?”

She slumped like she’d been defeated. “I did not expect you to find out so soon, but I cannot deny it any longer. I love her, Tait.”

“Her?”

Mira fell backward onto the bed and groaned. “It cannot be helped. The woman’s salves had my sun-shredded skin feeling like it’d been kissed by a gentle rain in moments. Moments, Hearttalker!”

“Who the hells are you talking about?”

Mira did not sit up, merely lifted her chin to peer at me. “Blister Poppy, of course.”

“Damn vicious woman.”

“What?” She shrieked when I crossed the room and reared over her. Mira laughed and tried to escape. “Who did…ah, stop!” She swatted at my fingers pinching her waist until she squirmed. “Who did you think I meant?”

I rolled Mira’s body beneath mine. Her cheeks freshly flushed, her eyes like star fire. I brushed my palm over her cheek and pushed a lock of hair from her brow.

I swallowed thickly. “Do you love a sea fae, Vicious?”

Mira didn’t press the question. She understood. “Do you love an earth fae?”

My skin heated, my pulse would not cease its relentless pace. She dulled the hate. For me, it was a truth I couldn’t deny.

I nodded. “Aye.”

A glisten of tears filled her eyes. Mira lifted her head and kissed me slowly, tenderly. “Same, Hearttalker. Very much the same.”

39

The Illusionist

There was a new flash of desire in Tait’s eyes when I said the words, an unspoken truth. I loved him. He loved me.

My heart stuttered when he lowered to his knees. Tait nudged my thighs open and fitted his body between them. “Let me prove it, Vicious.”

Good hells. When did his voice get so raspy, so tantalizing?

His fingers trailed up the sides of my legs, then hooked my knees over his shoulders. I heard myself groan, and Tait echoed the sound, only it rolled over his tongue, deeper, needier. He tugged on my hips until they hovered over the edge of the bed.

A cool stream of air blew against my core. I couldn’t breathe. My arms stretched above my head, fingers grasping at the quilts beneath me. Another breath, then a taunting lick to the inside of one thigh.

Gods, the throbbing need grew too much. I bucked my hips, desperate for his mouth. “Tait, please.”

The first swipe of his flat tongue stole away all thought, all logic. All I had left was instinct. Sensation. One hand dropped to Tait’s head, holding the back of it, desperate for him to never move. The tip of his tongue made small circles around my center, lapping at the taste of me, drawing me to the edge of a precipice.

I could not stand the wait until I fell entirely.