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Viola told me he carried a poison in him, that he needed to dull the edge of his pain like a knife needing a whetstone.
“It’s an heirloom of your mother’s family.
A touch of heat kissed my throat. The droplet at the end of the necklace was burning, and a soft, strange voice entered my mind.
It was much, much worse. A fae man. The storm-gray wings gave it away, as did the
second set of lethal-looking canines retracting back into his gums. He wore a mixture of green and brown leathers, lined with fur and cloth. The daggers at his hip and the bow and quiver at his back promised violence.
“Your cries drew me. If I’d had any doubts of his intentions, your scent would’ve told me everything I needed to know.”
I’ve always stuck to taking the runaways and outcasts, like you.”
Fae males protect. It’s our first instinct, even before fighting and hunting.”
“Your weakness for damsels in distress will ruin you one of these days.”
Embrace what is before you.
Then there were ravens everywhere, surrounding me, never touching; forming a protective circle.
A barrier crumbled; acceptance lay on the other side.
Hunter’s nostrils flared delicately, and for a second, the whites of his eyes showed. Gods, what had he smelled?
His irises were the color of his hair: the silver of steel. Yet somehow, they were aflame.
“She created the Wild Hunt with the sole purpose of tracking down the former queen of Solar. Sefra was meant to be powerful—one of the few who could stand up to Morgan—but she fled her own court to avoid a confrontation.
“But you taste unusual. There’s a heat to your blood, and it’s saltier than—”
Spring meets winter, whispered the disembodied voice.
Hunter cleared his throat. As if nervous. He croaked, “We’ll see each other again—I can promise you that.”
His eyes pulled me in—dark, dark blue, like a midnight storm—flickered
The way his shoulder-length black hair lined the sides of his face, it made me think he used it like I had when my hair had been long: to hide, to become a shadow in the corner of the room.
He might’ve been my male fae counterpart, even though his expression made him seem like a haunted man.
Another image interrupted this chain of dream and memory: the sight of gray wings in flight …
Sami was the elite rank in the fae army tiers.
You don’t get to quit. Fight him tooth and nail and wing. You can’t measure suffering in years. He’s wrong. Now, prove it.
The wanting punched a hole through my gut.
“There’s a thunderstorm in your blood,” he mouthed. Breathless, maybe even in awe.
The words whispered against my skin. An unleashing. I relaxed, molded into his body, and rested my head against his. I yearned for his touch—for more. His body tensed and hardened beneath me.
“You must not mistake my bite as a claim.”
This,” he gestured up and down my body, “blood rage must stop tonight.”
His eyes were cold but intense. “Listen to me, Kovaysi.”
“Look at me, Kovaysi,” he said in a whisper.
The sudden loss of his heat and scent was like being plunged headfirst into ice water. And a desire to keep him close tugged at me. I drew a ragged breath, clearing my nostrils of musk and sweat and earthy pine.
My eyes traveled to Frazer as if pulled by an invisible thread.
He’s waiting for you.
I lifted my chin and stared into him. We’re outcasts; we should stick together.
Wilder locked eyes with me. His gaze traveled to Frazer and finally, to rest on our clasped hands. Surprise, and maybe a rumble of something darker crossed his face.
noise somewhere between a growl, a cough and a sneeze. My eyes found his. I felt a jolt around my midriff and a tug. Instantly, I felt exposed and unsettled but also clear. Like I’d sailed through darkness and weathered countless storms only to see a guiding light from the cliffs. Except, my light came in the guise of a haughty brow and a deadpan stare.
If I’m right, he should be able to hear you too. Visualize a connection—a thread or bond, linking you—and then try to communicate with him.
That’s because you’re an open channel. An undisciplined mind. Frazer’s been taught to guard his thoughts and emotions
But our connection—being able to hear and talk to you despite having my shields up—is something I’ve never encountered. I’ve no notion of how to control it.
You should rethink your affections, Matea.
Depends on the fae. We’ll either shut you out or grip you tight and never let you go.
He won’t hurt you, Auntie told me. Again, cryptically. Nevertheless, I took courage from it.
He gave me a tight smile. I know, but it’s still best if people don’t see affection like that. His mental voice was a whisper.
It’s different with us, yatävä.
said—Sabu Warrior?
The Sabu class was reserved for the leaders of the fae armies.
It created a wall—a barrier between us—despite us being intimately connected every heartbeat. Because while his mind remained his own, our bond was more than shared thoughts, that much had become clear. Even when our minds weren’t connecting, our more intense emotions seeped through the strings that were now so tightly woven that I wondered if we’d ever untangle. That didn’t scare me nearly as much as the glimpses of the darkness, the grief that defied words, existing in the depths of his soul.
“Nimän telo, Tästien Valo.”
I’m not free to act on such desires, Serena.”
