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Instead, I tuck my gaze down, avoiding his as it follows me all the way over to the desk. I set down his tray before I start to prepare his cinnamon coffee. Just how he likes it, I finish it off with a quick stir from a stick of tree bark, feeling his icy eyes on the side of my face with every moment that chugs by.
Once I’m finished serving up his coffee, I move on to the tureen-covered dish. I set it out on the desk, mirroring the plate with cutlery, and fight the internal ache to look over at him.
I know he watches me. I feel the frost of his gaze freeze over the side of my face. I wonder if he is plagued by the same flashes of me in his mind as I am with him. I wonder if he suffers, too.
Just as I think it, a smoothly spoken word echoes in my head.Evate. The anticipation tingling in my body is only drowned out by the sudden rush of curiosity. I want to know what that word means, I need to know what he is saying to me in those secret, forbidden moments between us.
And I almost—almostask him.
Hesitating by the desk, I chance a glance over at him in the dim light of the corner. My mouth parts with the danger of that question on my tongue.
But I’m quick to catch myself.
No matter what’s happened between us, I can’t speak out of turn. I can’t go around the castle, asking the dark fucking fae prince whatever I want, just because he stole away a heated moment with me in the shadows.
“Speak.” Prince Daein reads me too easily. The ice of his eyes cold-burns the profile of my face. “Say what you want to say.”
Clenching my jaw, I shake my head, my gaze stuck to the desk. “I have nothing to say,” I lie through my teeth.
He knows it, too.
I hear the rustle of the parchment scroll falling to the floor before the armchair creaks quietly. The prince pushes up to slowly advance on me, his bootsteps silent on the blackwood beneath my feet.
“Speak your mind to me,” he says darkly, the edge of a threat lining his tone like a dagger. “Lest I will cut it out of you.”
I pale, all the colour and heat draining from my face to my pounding heart.
I slide my hands around to the small of my back, taking a small step away from him as he casually rounds on me. Keeping my head down, I watch the silver toes of his boots step into my line of sight.
“I only wondered one small thing,” I tell him, my voice a whisper.
He hums a disinterested question as he moves around me, forcing me to turn my back to the desk. I lift my eyes to him, my lashes low over my ordinary mud-brown irises, and I back up with each slow, calculated step he takes closer to me.
He shepards me backwards until the base of my spine presses hard into the edge of the desk.
I still, my hands nervously gripping the sides of my skirt.
“I wondered ... I wondered what evate means,” I mumble, fingers twisted around my skirt, wringing it out as though washing the fabric clean.
He advances closer, until he’s towering over me, the warmth of his lip grazing the crown of my forehead. I arch my neck back to look up at him—though I’m not brave enough yet to meet his gaze. I focus my attention on the fine line of his nose.
The prince reaches up for my face. He takes my jaw in his hands, his touch tender, and he keeps my face aligned with his.
“That is what you meant to ask me?” There’s a dangerous edge to his voice again, one I recognise like the cut of a knife over flesh.
I make to turn my cheek.
In answer, his hold hardens on my jawline, making it impossible for me to move my face at all. I blink up at his nose, my mind in shambles.
There’s a threat in how he’s handling me. I doubt this moment will end with his hand up my skirt, but rather his hand in my chest, tearing out my heart.
“I wanted to,” I whisper, my breath catching on my stammering heart. “But I did not want to speak out of turn.”
“Want,” he echoes icily, leaning into me until his body has mine pinned against the desk. He brushes his mouth over my forehead, the ghost of a kiss—the kiss of death.
My fear only churns my gut harder when I feel his lips against my skin turning into a faint smirk.
“Want is to human,” he mutters, his fingertips starting to dig firmly into my face and his smirk fading. “Want is weakness.” He drops his forehead to mine for a pause. His voice drops to a whisper as he adds, “You have me weakened.”
