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His golden tattoos were mesmerizing. They seemed to move and change in the dim light, swirling first in one direction and then in the other in patterns that ought to make sense but didn’t. His shoulders were so broad and his chest so muscular—so different from any other male I had ever seen and yet so striking.
All Fae value symmetry—it is part of beauty—and aside from the white scar on the side of his face, Liath Blackthorn was perfectly symmetrical. He was a powerful and yes—a beautiful physical specimen in every way.
Then I realized what I was doing—I was hesitating, wasting the perfect opportunity to kill my brother’s murderer. And why was I doing it? Because I was admiring the perfect symmetry of his muscular body and chiseled features.
I wanted to slap myself—what was wrong with me? Resolutely, I lowered the blade until it was just a hairsbreadth above his strongly corded throat. I would do it, I told myself. I was actually going to do it…
And then his bronze eyes opened and he stared up at me.
“Do it, why don’t you?” he rumbled, in that deep voice that seemed to shake the whole bed. “Slit my throat with my own dagger—isn’t that your plan, little bird?”
I felt frozen to the spot. I wanted to strike the killing blow, but somehow I couldn’t move.
Do it! I screamed at myself in my head. Do it—you’ll never get another chance like this! What are you waiting for—do it, Alira!
But still, I couldn’t move.
Suddenly, Liath exploded into action.
His arm came up, catching my wrist and squeezing until I gasped and dropped the moonstone dagger. Without missing a beat, he caught it by the hilt and put it back on the nightstand. Then he rolled, taking me with him, and pinning me under him.
“Let me go! Let me go!” I gasped, squirming against him. I was caught—trapped between his big, muscular body and the mattress—but my top half was still free. I beat against his broad chest, but I might as well have been beating against a brick wall.
“So you were going to kill me in my sleep, were you?” Liath arched an eyebrow at me, completely unperturbed.
“Of course I was—I am!” I snarled fiercely. “You killed my brother—you took the only person I ever loved from me! You deserve to die!”
“Is that what you think?” He frowned, his face going dark. “You think I killed Quill?”
His use of my big brother’s nickname surprised me, but I wasn’t about to let it show on my face.
“I saw his body when they brought him from the battlefield!” I snapped. “You stabbed him through the heart—and you didn’t even attack from the front! You stabbed him from behind, you craven bastard!”
His face went as dark as a thundercloud.
“You would accuse me of such a fucking cowardly act? What proof do you have?”
“What proof do I need? There were witnesses that saw what you did!” I spat. And then I was so angry I literally spat at him, spraying his face with my spittle to show my rage and contempt.
To my surprise, this didn’t seem to make him angry. He was leaning on his elbows, pinning me to the bed and he simply grimaced and lifted one hand to wipe his cheeks.
“And what witnesses were these?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “Who saw me stab your brother in the back?”
“Well…my cousin, Asfaloth,” I said, feeling uncertain for the first time. “He was at the battle that day—he saw what you did.”
“And is he known for being truthful, your cousin?” Liath raised an eyebrow at me. “I’d say he’s about as truthful as he is kind and compassionate. Which is to say not fucking very.”
“Are you saying he lied?” I demanded. “If you didn’t kill my brother, who did?”
“How should I know?” Liath growled, frowning. “But I can tell you now—it wasn’t me.”
“Why should I believe you?” I demanded.
“You shouldn’t,” he said simply. “You don’t know me well enough to trust me yet.”
“I don’t want to get to know you!” I snapped recklessly. “Why did you even ask for my hand? You told my father you didn’t want to make peace between the two Courts and you know I can’t help you take the Shadow Throne because I have no magic. And of course you didn’t marry me for my beauty, for I have none! So why—why did you ask for me? Why did you take me?”
“Stop. Be still, little bird.” I had been struggling furiously as I shouted my questions at him and now Liath took both my wrists in one big hand and pinned them above my head. He looked down at me, a stern expression on his face. “You’re working yourself up—calm down.”
“No, I won’t!” I panted. “Let me go. Let…me…go!”
I fishtailed wildly under him, but again I might as well have been fighting a wall made of iron. He was simply so much bigger and stronger than me, there was nothing I could do to move him.
