The Thief and the Throne (Carnival of Fae Book 2)

by Helena Rookwood

The door crashed open, and as if called by his words, Davorin appeared in the doorway. “And just how are the two lovebirds settling in?”

“Beautiful chambers, Lira,” he said softly, his dark eyes sliding sideways to look at her flushed cheeks, her anxious expression. “They’re more crowded than I’d like right now.”

She inhaled, the unfamiliar scent of citrus and fir sending her reeling, and looked up to see Davorin’s face set in an unhappy grimace.

Glancing to her left, she saw Davorin standing in the crowd, staring intently at her, as always. What is his problem?

Lira let out a low growl. “If you’re really sorry for thinking I was a spy before, maybe you could express your thanks by just leaving me alone now?” Davorin let out a low chuckle. “Oh, I don’t think so. Since you’re not a spy, that makes what you can do far more interesting.” Lira’s stomach gave a little flip as he put both hands on her waist and whisked her into the air, her green skirts flying out. “Will you stop that,” she hissed, her cheeks flaming as she scrabbled at his fingers, trying to pry them from her waist. “People are looking.”

His eyes sparkled. “Good.” He lifted her again, and her breath caught as she whirled through the air. He replaced her delicately on

She tucked an escaped curl back behind her ear and fixed the prince with her sternest gaze. “As well as extreme gangliness, Your Highness, I’m afraid it seems you are troubled by selective deafness. Is that a typical fae complaint, or is that particular affliction unique to you?” Again, Davorin just stared at her for a moment, something she couldn’t read flickering behind his eyes.

His lips quirked up. “My lady?” He gestured for her to take a seat. Reluctantly, Lira perched on the edge of the wooden sled, facing the dragons. Davorin dropped down beside her. “Vedette told me they come closer when the storms die down.” He indicated the dragons. “And if we’re going to have a difficult conversation anywhere, it might as well be with a view like this.” Lira pulled the wooden cups from her pockets, wedging them into the snow at her feet before pouring out the steaming chocolate. Davorin frowned, his gaze following her movements. “If we’re going to have a difficult conversation,” she said lightly, “it might as well be with a cup of hot chocolate.”

Lira poured herself the last of the hot chocolate. Then, feeling generous, she leaned over and tipped a little from her brimming cup into Davorin’s empty one. He stilled as her arm grazed the top of his thigh, his dark eyes slowly turning to her.

“Who knows? You might even find you like it.” Lira’s mouth downturned, her shoulders tensing. What would it mean to be so utterly under Davorin’s control? In spite of his promises to help her, the prince had shown himself to be quite ruthless. He’d held a knife to her several times now.

Lira, you damn clown. He's clearly flirting.

Davorin eyed her, that unnerving, predatory look returning to his face. “Yes, Lira. We have a deal.”