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Ambrose turned in his arms to look up into his face. Blue eyes so light they almost faded to white pierced her. Ephram had a way of looking right into her soul, seeing through all the different falsities she wore, and understanding. She’d never met anyone like him, much less Fae.
“You were supposed to stay outside of Marlux.”
“I tried.”
Since the last time she’d seen him, Ephram had cleaned up. Likely bathing in a creek or river. His onyx hair was neatly combed back from his face and she longed to ruffle it and make it look messy again.
“I don’t think you tried very hard.” Her fingertips slipped through the dark strands and pulled his face down to hers. “You can never behave. Can you?”
“Mmm. I don’t think I have that within me.” His eyes flared. “Are you going to keep teasing me or are you going to let me kiss you?”
Ambrose pulled away, smirking. “Perhaps I’ll make you work for it. Count it as your punishment for being so reckless.”
She swayed to the bed. The mattress compressed under her as she perched on its end. From here it was easy to admire him and the way the light that came in through the barred windows made his skin glow.He had to have walked through the castle to get in. There was no other way he could have gotten in here.
“What a naughty, naughty girl.”
His light accent picked up the syllables of the phrase in a pleasant way that made her core tighten all over again. A cocky smile revealed all those sharp teeth as he scented her want. On silent steps, he moved to the foot of the bed and stared down at her. Shoving his hands into his pockets he leaned into a bedpost.
“Are you going to tell me how you really got in here?”
He shook his head. “That would only upset you.”
“The Impelling? Whom should I hang from the gallows today?”
“Mums the word.” He pinched his fingers, ran them over his lips, locked and threw away an imaginary key.
The voices in her head were always quieter around him. He was her peace, her sanity even.
“When are you going to tell me how it works? I don’t like keeping secrets between us.”
It was the one thing he hadn’t told her. He’d always refused to. On occasion, it left her to wonder if he’d used it on her? But she quickly dismissed the idea when she remembered the way love swelled in her chest whenever she was near him.
“It’s a secret I keep for your own good. You don’t want to know how it works, trust me.”
She gave him a playful pout. “But I do.”
He lowered next to her, fingers finding a curl and twirling it in his grasp. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Always changing the subject.
A pained sigh left her but she tilted toward him, drawn to him like a magnet.
“How’s your sister?”
“Terrible.” Ambrose moaned before flopping back on the bed.
Ephram’s hands hovered in the air where he’d reached out and touched her. A single black strand of hair fell over his forehead as he cocked his head to look at her. She was running away from his persuasive touch, prolonging the challenge.
Slowly, he settled his hands in his lap and lowered himself to the mattress next to her. “Tell me more?”
Was she supposed to tell him Ophelia still had a plan to find her a husband? She probably should. Even if it tasted like acid on the back of her tongue.
“Well, for starters, when I arrived, she was throwing a damn party.” She stared up at the ceiling imagining Ophelia’s face up there and pretending her eyes were daggers. “Then she locked me away in here.”
“You’re locked in here?” Offense and curiosity both tangled in the statement.
“Even my magic can’t get through the lock. I don’t know what she’s done to it.” Another heavy thought to carry around until she was buried in the thousands of questions she had. “She still plans to find husbands for us both. Secure some heirs.” Her nose crinkled.
