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No wonder the Fae Isles are suffering.
“I’m so sorry, Riven,” I murmur. “We’ll break the curse and free you of this vow.”
“Indeed we will.” His smile is soft as his gaze flicks between my lips and my eyes. “How is it you have become my greatest source of pain and my greatest source of pleasure in only a matter of days?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.
“Are you in pain now?” I ask. Because that’s something I can fix, at least temporarily.
“Yes. My neck is on fucking fire.”
I slip from the bed and pad toward the desk where I concocted Riven’s tonic yesterday. Everything is just as I left it, except the cauldron and mortar and pestle have been cleaned. I make a mental note to thank Lettie as I swipe up the half-full, second vial and toss it to Riven.
He holds it up. Frowns.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “It’s the same tonic as yesterday.”
“It’s half-empty.”
“I only brewed enough for a trial.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I wasn’t going to waste time and resources brewing mass batches of a tonic without knowing if it worked.” Then, before I can shut myself up, I say, “Besides, the healer in the apothecary wasn’t too thrilled about providing me with the ingredients I required. She said she was told she wasn’t allowed to serve me.”
His eyes darken. “Which healer told you that?”
“Vessaryn.”
“Really?” His brow furrows. “That’s… strange.”
“Is it, though? She’s your lover, so I could see her feeling threatened by how close we’ve grown since I arrived at court.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he says adamantly. “She’s not my lover.”
“So I heard Arkyn incorrectly last night?”
His jaw clenches. “It wasn’t— We weren’t— She’s not my lover anymore. Never should’ve been to begin with.”
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, Riven. I don’t know why I brought that up.” I gesture to the potion. “If you wait to take it in a few hours—”
“Let me make myself clear,” he growls, uncorking the stopper and downing the contents in one gulp. “You are the only creature I’m interested in fucking, Gwyn.”
My heart pounds. “I am?”
“You are.” His tongue, that sinful fucking tongue, darts out to lick the corners of his lips. “Now, shut the terrace doors.”
My feet move on their own accord.
Achlys narrows his eyes at me through the windowpane as I turn the lock. I shoo him away, and he shifts, taking to the skies in raven form and leaving Riven and me blissfully alone.
“Come here.”
My blood buzzes as I close the distance between us.
I’m reaching for the laces of my dress when he says, “Don’t.”
I still my hands.
He slides off the edge of the bed. “Do you remember our word of caution, little witch?”
“Yes.”
