Page 48 of The Stolen Crown

Glamour was not supposed to ache like this. The Far Seas were too distant from my own kingdom. Illusions weakened in the Ever Seas. Here, my body trembled from the hold. Sweat dripped down the side of my cheek. I winced, clinging to the last threads of glamour heating my fingertips until the last trio of birds shot off into the trees.

In a heavy gasp, I dropped my hands and sprinted to the edge of the dark sand.

With care, I gripped a larger stone, careful not to step too near the sinking sand, and stretched out my opposite hand. “Hearttalker! My hand. Take my hand!”

Tait could not move much with the sand pulling him down, but he managed to turn, bewildered.

His blood-honey eyes widened for one breath, then narrowed when he grasped my palm. “It’s Heart…Walker!”

I tugged on his arm. Hard. My face contorted with effort. My feet skidded toward the sand. “Help me!”

Tait let out a hiss. “Please tell me how in the hells I can possibly help any more than I am?”

“You could start by telling me I’m pretty again,” I said through gritted teeth.

Tait’s face was red from exertion. “Never…said…that.”

“Say it!” Another pull. Another slip.

“No.”

“I’m saving your ass.”

“Let the sand take me. I’d prefer it.”

“I’d rather watch the birds slowly finish you off, but we’re not going to get what we want today.”

“Vicious woman.”

I managed to hook my elbow around the top of my anchor stone. Our grips tightened. One heated look from me and Tait gave a slight nod, as though he could read my mind.

I heaved with such might I was certain my arm might slip free of the socket. A desperate cry escaped my throat.

Tait cursed and grunted.

Then his thighs were visible. His fingers turned a dark shade of purple under the pressure of my hold. Next, his knees emerged. Little by little, Tait began to fall on to the stone slab, freeing his lower legs from the sand. When the tension keeping him trapped finally snapped, he lost his balance and fell completely forward.

Tait slammed against my chest, pinning me to the slab of stone.

For a drawn moment, we didn’t move. Tait’s body caged mine. The burn of his gaze was frightening, a thousand thoughts and secrets lived deep within those eyes. I wanted to learn and understand every last one.

Tait flattened his palms beside my head. “Want to know what I think?”

“Only if you don’t ruin it by speaking.”

His lips drew nearer to my ear. Breath stuttered in my chest. He was so near, heart to heart, hip to hip. Gods, I wanted more and could not find the strength to deny it.

“I think your knee is crushing my cock.”

What? My attention dropped to our position, truly studying how we had fallen. Tait attempted to lift his body, but somewhere in the madness, my limbs clung to him like he was the anchor through a storm. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, and my legs curled around one of his. As he said, my knee was propped between his legs, pressing into…

I frowned, nudging my knee upward until Tait grunted. “A bit of gratitude might go over a little better.”

“Tell me what man is grateful to have his balls squeezed.”

“I have a list who’ve experienced my squeezing and will sing my many praises. I’ll be sure to have the names delivered for your perusal when we get free of this place.”

At that, Tait’s eyes darkened. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’d rather cut out my eyes.”