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We've been reduced to embers, yes, but the coals that lie beneath the ash of my ward are still hot enough to burn. Do you know much about metalwork, Captain? I do. It's under the most unbearable conditions that the sharpest, most dangerous weapons are forged. And we are dangerous, Captain. She’s turned us all into weapons. That is why she won’t suffer my people to live.”
“Even in times of peace, the Fae are always at war. There are those among our ranks that might pretend to be your friend, but often they’re hiding knives behind their smiles, ready to sink them into your back. You’d do well to remember that.”
“I've fucked plenty of humans,” he whispered. “Does that surprise you?” “Yes. Seeing as how you...seem to hate us...so much.” His mouth. Gods, his fucking mouth. I needed to look away. I had to. “I don't hate your kind. I'm just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I'm imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.” I was burning alive. I was a living torch, blazing out of control. “I wouldn't fuck you—if you were the last living—” “Don't bother.” The words held bite. “Lying is pointless with your heart betraying you so loudly.”
He gave me a reproachful look. “Are you going to make me say it?” “Say what?” He leaned in even closer. My breath froze in my chest, my throat closing up, but I couldn't move. He grazed the bridge of his nose along the line of my jaw, the contact so light, up toward the shell of my ear. “That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I'm thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you're making for me straight from the fucking cup.”
“Feeling a little sore, human?” “Sore doesn't come close,” I grumbled. “I'll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I've been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”
Kingfisher spun and strolled purposefully out of the room. “You're free to come and go as you wish, boy. Do whatever the hell you like. Though, I doubt you're gonna get very far with only one boot.”
“I can't wait to hear what kind of sounds you make when I thrust into you for the first time,” he purred. “I'm going to make you pant for me, Little Osha. And when we're done, I'll close my eyes and replay the sound of you moaning in my head every time I stroke myself to completion.”
He just cocked his head a little, nostrils flaring, and spoke in a low rumble. “Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”
“I don't...” Watching Fisher grasp for the right words was wild. “I don't hate you,” he rushed out.
Fisher hooked his fingers underneath the hem of my shirt and rested his hand against my skin. The move wasn't sexual. It was simple contact between one person and another. Grounding. Intimate. A connection. “My mother was killed, too,” he whispered thickly. “We have that in common, Little Osha.” I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he had already fallen asleep.
Every warrior in Innìr will smell me on you, Fisher's voice rumbled in my mind. I'm going to make you hoarse from screaming my fucking name. I'm going to mark you in every way imaginable, so that everyone knows you're fucking mine.
Just as he had done when I woke up, Fisher lay behind me, still as the dead, not breathing. Only this time, he was holding onto me for dear life. He didn't let
To all those who’ll listen or haven’t been told, of the day the last drake woke and rose from the cold. Of the young warrior who came veiled in shadows and blood to defeat the foul creature and save those he could. Of the Fisher King, and the wolves at his back, who came howling in the night, together, a pack. The frost blessed the morning. The warriors faced their fate. And thus begins our tale, The Ballad of Ajun Gate.
Fisher rested his chin on top of his forearms and sighed. “What?” I whispered. He thought for a moment, appearing to decide whether he'd answer the question. Then he said, “I was wrong, y’know. You are a good thief.” “What have I stolen?” But he smiled a small, sad smile, slowly shaking his head. “Sleep a little. The water will stay warm. I'll be back as soon as I've spoken to Ren.”
We know who she is, the quicksilver hissed. She is the dawn. She is the moon. She is the sky. She is oxygen in our lungs.
“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I'm about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I'm about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don't forget to tell them I'm the one you worship on your knees.”
