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His gaze dips to the glass in my hand.
“Nuh, uh.” I wag my finger at him. “This counts as the same question.” The last word slurs, and the flush clinging to my cheeks burns hotter.
“Well.” He stretches his arms over his head. “I might have almost gotten their king killed.”
“What!” Whiskey sloshes over the rim of my cup and runs down my fingers.Blast it all.I set the cup on the table.
Sigurd moves with too much grace for all he’s consumed and takes my hand in his. “Shame to waste something so fine.”
He raises my hand toward his lips.
My heart stops. My eyes fly wide as my lips part. He’s going to lick it off me, use that wicked tongue to—
Instead, he wipes my hand with his sleeve. Quite un-king-like. Intimate. Casual. Something too much like what I would do. My heart beats again. I remember to breathe, but everything I’d planned to say has vanished from my head.
“All better,” he says.
“Y-yes.” I drop my hands to my lap, twisting them there, unable to hold still, especially with him so close. Our legs touch. His scent tangles around me, mixing with the whiskey on my breath.
“But yes,” he says, leaning back against the cushions as if nothing just happened. “What occurred was unintended. I planned to pay him back for an offense from long ago. I thought if I got some measure of revenge, I’d feel better. Or maybe he would realize the pain he caused me.”
“Do you?”
“Hm?”
“Feel better?”
He sighs through his nose. “No, nor did I get my revenge exactly. There was a complication with the Unseelie, and his human woman was much more…” His brows pinch before the hint of a grin stretches his lips. “Not what I expected.”
Inky, slimy feelings curl within me.
“Who are the Unseelie?” I ask, shifting the topic away from some girl I’ve never met and totally can’t be jealous of. I reach for my drink and make sure to slide my hand down his thigh as I settle myself against him again.
It’s the whiskey. It has to be.
Sigurd coughs into his fist. A sudden breeze stirs my hair and encourages me to nestle closer. Could be the whiskey, but I’d swear he shivers.
“The Unseelie are dark fae. We were all one people once, many ages ago, but the Unseelie were dissatisfied with our ways. They corrupted our magic and preferred to live differently—apart. And so, they split from us. The ages have changed them even further, creating them into the monsters they are now.”
The hard edge in his voice makes me shudder. I sip at my drink, savoring the warm burn that smooths away the goosebumps on my arms.
“They were of your kingdom? People of air?”
“This was before the Court of Air existed.” His eyes shine a little brighter. “Fae history is long.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Complicated.”
“And fascinating.” I lean in.
“You think so?” His arm slides around my shoulder, pulling me closer.
“If the Unseelie wanted to be separate, why do they bother you now?”
“So many questions, so few drinks.” He winks.
I raise my glass, but he places his hand atop it.
“If you have any more, you may not remember a word I say.” He plucks the drink from my hand and sets it on the side table with his own.
“This game was your idea.” I poke him in the chest.
