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This bastard would shit himself if he realized he had the Saeris Fane in his grasp.
Sometimes, objects shook around me. Objects made of iron, tin, or gold.
“The Fae were warmongers. Cannibals. Beastly creatures with no temperance, sense of morality, nor any notion of mercy. The eldest Immortals visited their wrath upon the land with an iron fist, leaving a path of chaos and destruction in their wake. The seven cities rejoiced when I cast them out. And now they have sent you to try and kill me?”
Death had come for me, with wavy black hair and wicked green eyes. He’d carried me away from that place. He had brought me here.
Saeris. A pretty name. A Fae name.
Eskin’s success rate is a point of pride for him these days. He hasn’t lost a patient in nearly two centuries.”
It seems highly unlikely that a human woke the quicksilver.”
“One thousand seven hundred and thirty-three,” came a deep voice.
Kingfisher stilled. “Are you asking me how big my cock is, Osha?” “I don’t care how big it is. I care about the way you answer.” A slow, terrifying smirk spread across his face. “It’s big enough to make you scream and then some.”
“Maybe. But I’m not a man. I’m a Fae male.” He paused. “And maybe I’m just well-endowed.”
She hadn’t banked on Kingfisher kicking in my bedroom door, me thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and wailing like a banshee. Nor had she expected his ultra-foul temper, his split bottom lip, or the thin line of blood trickling down his chin. She’d squawked when he’d thrown me unceremoniously down onto my bed and snarled, “Bad human,” at me.
“Admittedly, I do enjoy when a female kneels for me, but in this particular case…”
“Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”
“I’m also a fan of aggressive foreplay. It’ll be a fun reminder.”
Kingfisher leaned forward, his tongue running over his teeth again. He smiled suggestively as he said, “Swallow.”
“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.”
“And here I was, rankled at the thought of having to drag around a helpless, useless human who’d be nothing but a burden. But it turns out you’ve got jokes! At least I can count on you for some entertainment.”
“How the hell am I supposed to stay alive in the middle of a war zone, Fisher?” When he laughed this time, the sound was hollow. “By sticking close, Osha. Really close.”
“Nimerelle is the only thing that’s stood between Yvelia and ever-lasting darkness for the past four hundred fucking years!”
“It’s an honor to kneel at the feet of the Dragon’s Bane.
“Are you thinking about running? Gods, I hope so. I’ll give you a head start if you like. It’s been an age since I’ve hunted anything.”
An unfamiliar tension radiated from Fisher. He seemed to be working very hard at nonchalance.
“That’s right. But I wasn’t just covered in your blood, was I? I was wearing another of your… perfumes.”
“There’s every way,” Fisher rumbled, his eyes darkening. “I’d know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I’d know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I’d be able to scent you—”
Kingfisher towered over me like the god of death himself. His chest heaved, his eyes flashing with green, and silver, and murder. “You all right?” he panted.
“You let a fire sprite jerk you off with a handful of Fae moss?”
“Eat, Little Osha.” His lips moved, but he spoke softly, casting his voice. “Gods, will you stop doing that?” I hissed under my breath. “Why? I’ve seen the way your skin breaks out in goose bumps when I speak to you like this.”
“If I were evil and using your oath for my own purposes, I’d order you onto your knees for me,” he said, cutting me off. “I’d order you to part your legs for me. I’d order you to suck and fuck me until you passed out from exhaustion. Is that what you want, Little Osha?”
“You’re thinking about my hands sliding up the insides of your thighs right now,” he said. “About my fingers slipping inside the wet folds of you. Working against your swollen clit, rubbing you until you’re panting and whimpering, begging for me to sink my cock into your—”
“Don’t share food with that prick again, Little Osha.”
But there was something else tying me to him. Pulling me in like I was trapped.
“When you take all of me, remember to breathe.”
“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.”
“No arguments, Osha. I’ve driven myself half-crazy wondering what you look like. I need to fucking see. Put me out of my misery.”
“Perfect. You’re absolutely fucking perfect. If Danya does rip my head off tomorrow, at least now I’ll die happy.”
“Back in the forge at the palace, I caught a hint of this. I knew then I had to taste you. This smell has been haunting my fucking dreams. I haven’t been able to think straight for remembering the scent of your need.”
“I don’t want a mouthful of soap and perfume. I want to taste you.”
“Oh, no, Little Osha. You’re gonna be looking right at me for this,”
“Gods and fucking martyrs. Holy fucking shit. That’s right. Come. Show me how pretty you are when you fall apart.”
“Don’t call her Sunshine,” he commanded.
“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 was supposed to be here to protect them. I failed them. So I don’t deserve to be called Lord of Cahlish. I am lord of nothing.”
The sound of Fisher’s genuine laughter was rarer than water had ever been back in Zilvaren; it almost brought tears to my eyes to hear it.
“I felt it! I knew the moment the gates opened again. I felt you pass through. There was a buzzing in the air that day.”
“My mother was killed, too,” he whispered thickly. “We have that in common, Little Osha.”
Every warrior in Irrín 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.
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.
Fisher will never forgive me if his sole reason for living is torn to pieces on her first fucking battlefield.”
“You can kick and scream all you like,” he said. “But he wants the Alchemist, Fisher.
“Our Alchemist faced the enemy tonight and stood her ground bravely. We have among us a newly blooded warrior.”
