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“Ex-fiancé?” His gaze sparkled with mischief.
Yes, Burke would hunt him down for what had been forced upon our village and the shamble we had been left in. But so would every other person in Pasia. Well, anyone who didn’t quake with fear or run and hide.
“More than him.” Ambrose wanted to knock him over the head with her staff for even trying to be here. Though she wasn’t surprised he’d done it. Their relationship had been a series of finding ways to see each other through the watchful eye of the public. This was the first time he’d ever glamoured himself in a crowd this size.
“Still, I am not afraid.”
“Is it love that clouds your mind so recklessly?”
“Ah,” he sighed, stretching out a hand. The tips of his fingers skimmed along her jaw before tucking a curl behind her ear. “When I’m not with you, I see you every time I blink.” Moonlight shone off the wax of his dress shoes as he closed the space between them. Their toes touched.
“Ambrose Havlock you consume my mind at all times.” He lowered his face to her ear. “It’s taken everything in me not to have you right here right now.” His hand slipped from her hair and traced a line down her dress to play along the top of her cleavage. “Loving you is all consuming. How could I stay away?”
“You wouldn’t stay away even to save your own life?” Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Risking my life to see you has become part of our little game, has it not?” His teeth snapped as he nipped at her ear.
It took everything inside of her to place her hand on his broad chest and push him away. The steady beat of his heart thrumming under her palm at the same rapid pace as hers.
“People are watching.”
“Let them watch.” Now his nose was brushing hers. Their fogging breaths in the evening air mingled between them.
Her chin was tipped. Her lips parted and wanting. Despite her words and her intentions, her body betrayed her as it opened up for him.
Ephram watched her with a burning half hooded gaze. He still looked human if she didn’t force herself to concentrate on him. What could they have been if he’d been human or she’d been Fae? Surely it would have been something more than this. It would have been raw, hot, and so undeniable they’d likely have been wed already.
With the idea of what could have been in another life, Ambrose gently pressed her lips to his. He groaned against her, flattening his body to hers. The bush behind her poked roughly at her back. It was a worthy price to pay.
“What I would give to have you right now,” he mumbled against her lips.
Ambrose gave a giggle. “With an audience?”
“I’d fuck you until you didn’t know how to walk as they stared.” A hand was sliding down her torso, fingers gripping at her hips.
“Naughty,” she breathed. The soft form of his lips melded to hers. The pattern of familiarity was there to guide them.
Ephram sucked her lips into his mouth, the point of his teeth biting into the delicate flesh. Blood drew forth only to be happily drank away. Against the tender wound, his tongue swirled and lapped and he drank. His tongue danced against hers and she swore she could taste the bitter tang of his blood too. Not that it would be the first time she’d drank from either.
Weak knees threatened to collapse the queen, her body only kept up by the draping of her arms over his shoulders, the brush at her back, and his firm grip on her hips.
Someone cleared their throat from the ballroom doorway.
Ephram licked away the last of the blood and detangled their limbs in one easy motion, as if he’d been practicing his entire life. Ambrose steadied herself on her staff and turned to face the intruder.
Ophelia smiled. Her hand was white knuckled against her staff, the glow of its flames casting light over her face. It only made her look more ominous. She arched a single brow, her tone measured. “Do you know each other?”
Ambrose coughed, readying to make up some lie about Ephram’s appearance in her court the months prior. It could be believable.
The Fae beat her to the response. Smoothing his hands over the clean lines of his jacket before sinking them into his deep pockets, he watched Ophelia with the same false pleasure she wore.
“No. Just thought I’d make a good first impression.”
That grin turned to Ambrose. She steadied herself burning under the two insistent gazes.
Today she did not wish for the weight of her title, the magic, or her responsibilities. Wishing did not make them go away, so she moved between Ephram and Ophelia and readied herself for battle.
Ace
