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“Next time you’re curious about me, feel free to ask me,” Kingfisher said as he laid his hand on the forge’s brand-new door.
“Incorrect. If you asked me something worthy of a reply, then I’d answer. If I answered, then it would be the truth.”
A slow, terrifying smirk spread across his face. “It’s big enough to make you scream and then some.”
“Maybe the issue is that you asked me a question about my cock like a hungry little bitch in heat and didn’t ask me something that mattered.”
“Because you’re human, and humans are weak,” he snarled. “Because it’s none of your business. Because it doesn’t matter why I did it. Because no matter what reason I give to you, it won’t be good enough. Now ask me something else.”
How did you even kill a Fae warrior? Did you need a special weapon? Could they be poisoned? I made a mental note to ask Rusarius—the old librarian was bound to know.
“You could at least say hello before you start eye-fucking me.” “I wasn’t eye-fucking you. I was trying to see through all of this… steam.” I wafted my hand for effect, but the air was clear, there was no steam, and Kingfisher did not look impressed.
“There you go again, lying your little heart out. You like my sweat, don’t you, human?”
“You are temporary,” he said, looming over me, his huge frame just… everywhere. “And you are rude,” I shot back.
“For centuries, our kind has tried to understand how the relics that allow us to travel through the quicksilver were made. There have been many theories over the years, but that’s all they’ve ever been. Theories. With the quicksilver sleeping, we haven’t been able to experiment or put any of those theories to the test. But now that you’re here…”
“This… is a learning experience, I think. There are always consequences to our actions. Your new furry bracelet is a consequence of human weakness. Wear it with pride.”
“You could slice your own throat wide open with a knife like that if you forget to think, Osha.”
So much skin. So much ink. His tattoos on his back were interwoven—bold, sweeping lines that seemed to form pathways and tell stories. I wasn’t about to lie to myself; I wanted to know about every single one of them—what they meant and when he’d got them.
Fisher looked back at me, his narrowed eyes assessing me. Gods, he was a sight to behold. Every line of him was art. With his full mouth, and the faint shadow of stubble marking his jaw, his fascinating eyes, and all of his midnight-black hair, it was hard not to look at him and ache. I had grown up in a pit of misery, where people died more often than they lived. I hadn’t seen many beautiful things in my short life. But, of all the beautiful things I had seen, Fisher was the most beautiful of all.
“Our Fae hearts rarely betray us. We’re calm creatures. But you, Osha? You’re a ball of chaos. Your heart betrays you at every turn.”
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.”
“It’s beating fast because I’m afraid,” I snapped. “Of me?” Kingfisher huffed a blast of laughter down his nose. “No, you’re not. You should be, but you’re not. That’s one of the things I like most about you.”
“You can pull away at any time. Looks to me like you’re choosing to stay. It also looks like you’re having to stop yourself from touching me. You want to touch me the way I’m touching you, don’t you? To feel the weight of me beneath your palms. The heat of me…” He angled his head a fraction, something wicked dancing in his eyes. “Just to see what would happen.”
“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.”
“Because you’re intrigued. Because you’re bored. Because you’re super fucking aroused right now, and you want to follow through on whatever little fantasies are playing out in your head.”
I hated this male. Hated him with every fiber of my being. But curse me, I wanted him just as bad.
“Careful,” he panted. “I swore I’d be still while you kissed me. At no point did I promise to exercise restraint if you climbed up into my lap and started grinding yourself against my cock.”
“I didn’t say I minded. But for next time, that’s where the line is. You want to cross it, I’ll happily join you on the other side. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Fisher was death incarnate, and he was coming right for me.
“Really? Because I believe you’re wearing my ring, and I don’t remember fucking giving it to you.”
“You like calling me that, don’t you. Knock yourself out. You did lie. You lied with your body. With your mouth. You crawled up into my lap, and kissed me, and rubbed yourself all over me, and used the opportunity to take something from me.”
“To save my friends. To end my exile. To fucking live or die, finally, one way or another. It had nothing to do with you.”
“You are going to stay here, and you are going to figure out how to create relics for us. You’re going to figure out how to manipulate the quicksilver if it’s the last thing you do.”
“I promise you I won’t. I’ll let you torture me first. I will not help the Fae. Not until I know what’s happened back in Zilvaren. I can’t.”
“I will go, and I will try to get one of these humans who are so fucking precious to you. I will try to bring that human back here, and you will end this madness. In return, you’ll agree to do whatever I ask of you to help me forge new relics and any other instruments I deem fit.”
“It’ll take a while for him to… wake up. Humans are so…” Kingfisher groaned. “You’re all so fucking fragile.”
“I hate that fucking place, but I went there for you. I got stabbed seven times in various parts of my body. For you. This prick said he was Hayden. His blood said he was Hayden. I did what I said I was going to do. Now move. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
“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.” The suggestion in Kingfisher’s voice was a promise made of dark silk.
“My hands have a mind of their own. My mind was fixed on what yours were doing, and let me tell you, human. You are nowhere near as light-fingered as you seem to think you are. You nearly dislocated my finger, tugging at that damned ring—”
“I think it’s hilarious,” he countered. “You’ve been a persistent pain in my ass since we met. Now the universe has seen fit to make your ass smart. I’d call that justice.”
“Careful, Kingfisher. I’ll start to think you actually care about my well-being if you keep—ahh! Ahh, ahh, ahh! Ow, that fucking hurts!”
“I don’t enjoy hurting people. I don’t like it at all. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary. To avoid far more serious pain, sometimes we have to endure a little sting. Sometimes, some of us have to inflict it. You say it so mockingly, but I do care about your well-being. You’re important. Without you, I can’t end this war or protect my people. I have to keep you safe so I can accomplish my goals. So yes, I’ll hurt you if it means I keep you safe. I’ll force you to follow me to the ends of this realm, because that is the only way I can make sure you stay alive. Now drink your beer.”
“So you make a big speech about keeping me safe in order to save your friends,” I said slowly, “and then you tell me you’re dragging me right into the middle of an open conflict?”
meat stew made my mouth water, but I could barely swallow it down. Carrion Swift was in the barn outside. Carrion fucking Swift, when I had wanted Hayden.
To me, Kingfisher was a surly, foul-mouthed bastard who I wouldn’t piss on even if he was on fire. To everyone inside this tavern, he was a living fucking god.
Hayden was alive. Hayden was alive. He was safe.
“He is not my boyfriend.” “—and no one else has been able to do that for a thousand years. And now you’ve made some kind of unbreakable promise to a malevolent legendary Fae warrior who might be completely insane. You don’t know what he wants from you—”
“Anyone can use any old relic in a pinch, but relics are most powerful when they’re forged from something important to its owner. These are the family rings of the warriors who fight for me. Each one has great meaning to the male or female it belongs to. You are going to take each and every one of these rings, and you’re going to turn them into relics.”
“If there’s a stone or some kind of engraving on the ring, you’ll find a way to incorporate that into the medallion you make. Other than that, it should be pretty straightforward.”
“I have fifteen thousand warriors, Little Osha. To have enough relics for my people, I need fifteen thousand relics. When you’re done with all of these rings, I’ll release you from your oath and take you to the closest quicksilver pool so you can leave. Until then…” He eyed the trunk full of rings.
Right now, you’re a tool he feels he has to use to make life better for us all. My concern is that a tool pushed to its limit is a tool that will probably break. And to be blunt, Saeris, you’re a tool none of us can afford to let Fisher break. He needs to see you as a person. He needs to know that you’re more than our way out of a tight corner. And the only way to accomplish that is if he learns more about you.”
“Magic runs through this place the same way your blood runs through your veins. It lives in the very air. The things you’ve already seen here are surely enough to suspend your disbelief… and yet you’re shocked by something so small as me casting my voice?”
“You just love contradicting yourself. One minute, you’re kidnapping me because it’s urgent that I make these relics for you. And then, the next, you’re throwing up obstacles and doing everything you can to make the process as difficult and as time-consuming as can be. You really need to make up your mind. What’s more important? The relics for your people, or whatever sick pleasure you seem to derive from keeping me at your beck and call?”
“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—”
“You nearly died from a scratch that would have been a mild irritation to me. You are soft. You are fragile. You are vulnerable. You are a newborn fawn, stumbling around in the dark, surrounded by predators with very sharp teeth. I am the thing that exists on the other side of the dark. I’m the thing that puts the fear of the gods into the monsters who would eat you bones and all.”
