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“You’re right,na’laa.I don’tneedto be here,” he said, almost as softly as when he had spoken to the Hyhborn in those mere seconds before he ended their existence. “Iwantto be here.”
I felt it then. His gaze. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could feel his stare drifting over my features, then down. A tingling wave of warmth followed.
“After all,” he said, voice thicker, smoother. “The scenery is quite lovely.”
I glanced down, seeing that the midnight-blue robe had come unbelted at some point and the ivory nightgown was visible underneath. It was basically translucent in the moonlight, leaving much of my breasts clearly visible beneath the wispy gown.
“I’m staring. I know,” the Lord said. “And I’m also aware of howimpoliteI’m being now.”
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to him. It was known that the Hyhborn enjoyed only two things equally. Violence and . . . and sex. I shouldn’t be surprised, especially when I had seen how he was the night before, but he was a Hyhborn lord, and now, with him uninjured and in the gardens, I . . . I was just some lowborn—
Come to think of it, what were he and the other two doing in these gardens? Hyhborn tended to interact with lowborn more freely and . . . intimately during the Feasts, even Hyhborn lords, but the Feasts were quite a ways off from beginning.
“Muriel?” I said. “He was the one I heard Finn and Mickie speak of.”
“He was.”
I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. “And Finn? Mickie?” There was a beat of silence. “The fires? That’s where they ended up?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
I did. “How did you end up in the gardens?”
“I’d sent a message to Nathaniel to meet, knowing Muriel is never far from his brother,” he answered. “As luck would have it, this is where Nathaniel requested to meet.”
Then that had to mean the Hyhborn brothers were from Primvera.
“You said you liked those little balls of light?” he said, drawing me from my thoughts, and it took a moment for me to realize he was responding to what I’d said to him and Muriel. “I assume you were speaking of thesols.”
“Souls?” I whispered, surprised enough to ask.
“Not souls of mortals.” That faint grin appeared again. “Butsolsof all that is around you. The tree we sit beneath. The grass. The blooms of the wisteria currently in your hair.”
“Oh.” My hand lifted out of reflex. I ran my hand down my braid until I felt something soft and dewy. I pulled the petal free, cringing. “I didn’t know that.”
He chuckled again. The sound was still nice, which seemed completely at odds with, well, everything. “I’m sure the blossom was pleased to find itself being attached to such a lovely mortal. Though, I can think of far more interesting places I would’veattachedmyself to.”
I blinked once.
Then twice.
And then my mind decided to take a quick jaunt where it shouldn’t go, conjuring up all those interesting places. A sudden aching twist curled deep in my stomach. I shifted on the grass, left unsteady by the intense pulse of desire— by yet another stark reminder ofwhathe was.
“So, were you looking for thesols?” the Lord questioned, lifting a hand. He made a soft humming noise— a gentle, melodic sound.
A heartbeat later, a buttery glow appeared in the tree above us, slowly descending through the branches and vines. Then another. And another. My lips parted. A little over a half dozen floated through the trees.
“You can call them to you?” I asked.
“Of course,” he answered. “We are a part of everything that surrounds us. They are a part of us.”
I watched as one of thesolsdrifted above me. “They’re beautiful.”
“They appreciate you saying so.”
A brow rose. “They can understand me?”
“They can.” He lifted his chin, gesturing to one of thesols.“See how their lights have grown brighter?”
