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Darkness, he hated she affected him so deeply with little effort. Staring down at her filled him with tension as he grew hard. He wanted to lean close, bringing his lips a moment from hers. She needed only to touch him, and he would have her screaming his name.
Rune tore his gaze from her, tightening his hold on the carved wooden frame. He stared into the fireplace, assuring himself his thoughts and feelings were an aftereffect of the spell tying him to her. He searched her mind, and in a few short minutes, he found himself captivated by her intoxicating scent.
No,Rune mentally shook himself. This spell was no different than being drugged. Old memories fanned over the edges of his mind, extinguishing his want of her. Rune glared down at the source of his torment.
“Tell me about magic. Balance. Why does this have to be in my head.”
Rune’s mind calmed. Magic was his comfort. He’d dedicated two millennia to his craft. His tension ease as he recalled lessons of his youth. “Balance is needed to invoke your will successfully. In our instance, your mortality has been tied to me. A spell alone could not render me mortal. A living mortal is required. You have been tied to me through a fated bond. In this balance, your life is the trade. Killing you will destroy me.” Apprehension rippled through her, and Rune frowned. “Be easy. I will not allow anything to happen to you.”
He’d expected to feel relief in her mind or a kind of comfort. A wave of anger filled her followed by sadness. Her loneliness clawed at his chest, a deep ache unsettling him.
“You will carry the Darkness as I do,” he assured her. She stared up at him, her eyes like a storming night sky that called him into their depths. He mentally shook himself, remarking, “Another phrase for carrying a shard of Darkness.”
She blinked a few times and looked away before closing her eyes again.
“You should reconsider receiving court training.” She tensed, blistering anger stirring in her. “Why do you refuse? You would be accepted into the mortal court of your choosing when you have your shard.” Courts would offer her anything within their means to secure her. She would want for nothing living out her days in luxury and comfort. His fangs sharpened once more at the thought of court born males fluttering to her. Each too eager to pleasure her in an attempt to win her favor.
Rune was pulled from his thoughts as hurt and fury crystalized, sharp and piercing, through her mind. And through it, the minx seemed to cling to the Ra’Voshnik. This female perplexed him. “We should speak of other things.”
“You think?” Venom edged her voice, cutting.
Rune glanced up for patience. Silence stretched between them as Rune searched her mind. She didn’t speak for several minutes, the set of her jaw growing more and more tense with each passing moment. “I want books. We’re just locked in here without anything to do. And where’s my garden?”
He exhaled. “What type of books?”
“Take me to a bookstore.”
Darkness, she dug her claws in for no other reason than to spite him. “That would cause unwanted attention.”
She opened her eyes, the fury storming within her palpable. “Sparrow made a scene at the high bitch’s court. You don’t think people are already talking?”
Likely. “Adding to the gossip is unwise.”
“Romance and fantasy books.”
Rune stifled a curse, finding nothing in her mind. “We will continue this tomorrow,” he said as he straightened, returning to his desk.
Faye remained silent as the presence that enveloped her faded to nothing. She stood, glancing his way. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find but she felt like a fool hoping some shred of what she felt in her mind would reflect in him. He wanted her, she’d felt it, but the man didn’t even bother looking up from his papers. Faye turned leaving his study.
Dark courts weren’t in her future. She wanted love and acceptance not wealth and power. The things she desired didn’t exist in their world.
Faye made her way back to her sister’s room and found it empty. She followed the hall further in, peaking into each room. The hall turned and opened into a large den. Faye spied blonde curls hanging over the armrest of an oversized chair beside the fire.
“What the fuck, hooker?” Faye yanked her sister’s hair.
“I’m sorry! Let me go.” Sparrow cried, holding Faye’s fisted hand.
“You threw water at me.” Faye pulled tighter, shaking her with each word. “Cold. Ass. Water.”
Sparrow wailed, “Vash help me.”
“Nope.” His voice sounded from behind her. “Sister business. What’d she do this time?”
Faye released her, turning around to rest her hip on the back of Sparrow’s chair. “She thought it would be a good idea to make me flash the Shadow Prince.”
Vashien paled. “Please. Tell me you’re joking.”
“You had a bra on.” Sparrow got to her feet rubbing her scalp.
