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And then I punched him square in the mouth.
HA!
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.
“Are you saying that he’s so feral that one small right hook is enough to send him on an explosive killing rampage?” She thought about this while folding a blanket. It took her a while to make up her mind. “Yes,” she decided.
Belikon thought Fisher had ‘used my mother up.’
Yikes...
“I’m not allowed to eat in the library, apparently. And, unlike Layne, I don’t have my own assigned wing of the court. After seeing how nice your rooms were yesterday, I figured I’d come and eat breakfast here. Don’t worry. I brought you some cheese.”
I’m sure that’s the only reason…
His tongue darted out between his lips, his blood staining the very tip of it, and I found myself being flashed by a pair of wickedly sharp canines. The sight of them sent a thrill of panic-tinged intrigue through me. Heat rose up from the pit of my stomach, my blood rushing to my cheeks.
“Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”
His expression was suddenly serious, his eyes alert, his voice low and smooth as velvet. “You’re making it worse.”
Kingfisher’s eyes narrowed, still boring into me. “I was going to get it seen to after this, but now I’ve decided against it.”
😌
Kingfisher leaned forward, his tongue running over his teeth again. He smiled suggestively as he said, “Swallow.”
😈
“And… and why does it smell like a brothel in here? If you’re going to spend the night out whoring and drinking, the least you could do is wash the smell of sex off you before showing up for breakfast.”
Screaming.
“You could at least say hello before you start eye-fucking me.”
💀
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.
He took the pendant, lifting it, placing the metal between his teeth, holding it out of the way as he moved my hand to the center of his chest. “Feel that?” he asked, his bottom lip pressing against the pendant as he spoke with it still clamped between his teeth. The tips of his canines also pressed into the swell of his bottom lip.
😳😳😳
“YOU OWE ME YOUR LIFE!” His fury echoed through the cavern, setting the quicksilver churning. Stepping down from the pool, he prowled forward, a predator about to fall on his prey, and for the first time in my life, I knew true fear.
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.”
Oooh his feelings are hurt 😩
You help me and assist me in any way I ask you to, and you do as you’re told.
You in danger girl…
“What do you think about Onyx?” I asked him.
I love him🥹
“This is not my brother, Fisher. This is Carrion fucking Swift!”
Oh boy 😅
I wanted to dig my heels in and refuse to move, but my body wouldn’t listen. He told me to follow, and follow I did, even though my heart was pumping like a piston, and I felt like I would pass out any moment. I didn’t have a choice.
Uh oh 🫣
As he’d commanded, I didn’t make a sound. What the hell had he done to me? Why was my body not my own?
Oooh girl you got tricked 🫠
“You fucking tricked me!” “No,” he said bluntly. “I taught you a valuable lesson that will serve you well for the rest of your very short human life in this realm. Always pay attention to the fine print. The devil’s in the details. Now go.”
💀
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.
“And there was me thinking you weren’t infatuated with me anymore. I have to say, I would have preferred to stay in Zilvaren, though. I was about to close a spectacular deal that would have made me a very rich man.” Kingfisher stilled, his fingertips curling tighter around Nimerelle’s hilt. His eyes darted from Carrion to me and back again; then he looked off toward the other side of the room, seemingly at nothing.
Well, we knew he wasn’t gunna like that 😅
“He’s an infant with a smart mouth, as far as I’m concerned. But… you’re defensive of him,” Fisher mused. “I suppose that’s only to be expected. I’m honestly surprised that you would want him to leave.” He took a sip of his wine.
Someone is jelly 😏
“That’s right. But I wasn’t just covered in your blood, was I? I was wearing another of your… perfumes.”
There it is 😂
“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—”
I was in a bed. A four-poster bed with birds, wolves, and dragons carved into the posts. The sheets were black. The cushions at the foot of the bed were also black.
Please be Kingfisher’s bed 😭
Carrion nodded. “That night, before you had dinner with him, actually. You’d already left for the dining room. He showed up with these in his hand and said he’d give them to me on one condition.” “Which was?” Carrion snagged a grape from the tray and popped it into his mouth. “That I take a bath.”
Ha!
But he was all wound up about not liking the way I smelled, so I figured fuck it. Whatever. A bath for a new pair of boots was a fair trade.
😂😂😂
“And please enlighten me. Why have you invited half of the household along to a meeting that was supposed to be for just the two of us?” “Meeting? I thought this was dinner. And how would it be fair for me to enjoy the pleasure of your company while these two miss out?” Carrion held up a hand. “I’d prefer not to be here, actually.” “Sit the fuck down,” I hissed.
“Oh? You have experience wielding a blade, then? A proper, full-length sword and not some badly forged back-alley shank?” I was going to shank him in the neck with my very dull butter knife. Then he’d see how proficient I was with a blade.
Quickly, he took hold of my hand and placed it onto his chest, right in the center. Thum, thum, thum, thum, thum, thum.… His heart was racing, the space between beats negligible. Nothing like the slow, steady beat he’d shown me back in the forge at the palace.
“Why is your neck bleeding?” he said slowly, enunciating every word slowly.
Uh oh...
“We have a fucking Alchemist?” “She’s mine,” Fisher said.
“What do you mean, horde?” Carrion bellowed after him as he ran down toward the river. Holgoth yelled one word in answer. “Vampires!”
Excuse me, what???
His eyes were wild, hair even wilder. He made straight for me but barked out a question to Ren. “Have you got the annoying one?” “I have,” Ren answered tiredly. “Uh, I hope you’re not talking about me,” Carrion said, but Fisher didn’t honor him with a response.
😂😂😂
I hated him, I did. But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.
Beneath my palms, the wolf tattoo emblazoned across his pecs came to life. The ink flowed beneath his skin, crossing from him to… to… sinners, it flowed along my fingertips, spreading over my skin, flowing just like his smoke over the backs of my hands. A delicate little bird took shape on the inside of my right forearm. It stretched its wings and took flight, its tiny body flitting over my stomach as its wings beat a thousand times a minute.
What's goin on...?
“Apologies, my lady. I came because I heard a disturbance in Master Fisher’s rooms. When I arrived here, I found Onyx whining at the door, and I decided to wait until… well, until you were finished to see if you needed anything. Intimate relations can be very strenuous.”
💀💀💀
“Would you care to explain what the fuck this is?” I snapped, yanking down my shirt collar. A flicker of annoyance flashed in Fisher’s eyes, but he did not look at me. “Don’t worry. It’ll fade. Probably,” he said in a flat tone. Oh, so he knew what I was pissed about, then? Gods, he was a piece of work. “I did not ask for a tattoo, Fisher,” I hissed. “I definitely didn’t ask for a bird to be permanently inked right above my fucking boob. You need to take it back.” His gaze remained fixed straight ahead. “It doesn’t work like that.”
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!?!?
“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.”
Fisher laughed. Really laughed. The sound was rich and deep, and made something inside me sit up straight. When I’d picked up a pitcher at the Winter Palace and filled a glass for myself for the first time, I’d thought the sound of that rushing, free water would be my favorite sound until the day I died. I was wrong. 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 ran my hands along his shoulders, working my thumbs into his taut muscles as I had been for the past hour. I wasn’t surprised when the ink beneath his skin drew closer to the places where our skin met. I watched it climb my fingers, forming shapes, and then runes and delicate designs as they inched upward.
Please be some kind of mate thing 😭😭😭
Every warrior in Irrín will smell me on you, Fisher’s voice rumbled in my mind.
Is there some kind of telepathy thing goin on rn…?
For now, all I knew was that I’d wanted it. I’d asked for it, and, sidenote, Fisher and I were now randomly capable of speaking into each other’s minds.
YAAASSSSS
Light flooded into the apartment’s living room. The dust sheets had been removed from the furniture and the paintings, revealing a comfortable space full of small treasures, books, and knickknacks that gave the place an easy sense of home. On the mantelpiece above the fireplace, scores of glass jars sat full of stubs of charcoal and paintbrushes.
Oh god he’s gunna be so down bad 😏
“I always know where you are, Little Osha.”
It was physically impossible for Carrion to keep his mouth shut and not get in the way.
“You’re making a weird face,” Carrion whispered loudly. “Are you talking to it?” “Yes, I’m talking to it. What do you think I’m doing?” “I don’t know. You look constipated.”
💀💀💀
