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Lir laughed darkly, leaning closer till they were nearly nose to nose, “I prefer to toy with my mortal princesses first: chase them, play with them, and only then are they satisfying to eat.”
“You wish to corrupt me,” Aisling surmised in barely a whisper. His smile widened then, those fangs winking back at Aisling. An expression that seized her heart, dared her to look away. The cord between them groaning, nearly snapping. “No,” he said, “I wish to show you, you already are.”
“I do not wield magic—I breathe it.”
“And what do you loathe about me?” he asked, pulling her back towards him with a gentle press of her waist as they ambled down a steep slope. “To begin, your bloodthirst.” He laughed. “Ah, yes, we often despise our own vices reflected in others.”
“Don’t be stupid, Kikkul. Where there is a queen, a king is never far behind,”
And once his eyes found Aisling’s, he considered her, circling like a vulture. But there was something more in the glint of his opal stare. Something Aisling hadn’t seen before. “What are you?” he asked.
“It’s easier for you this way, isn’t it? So be it; believe me your wicked fae legend, your nightmare come to life,” he growled, the rage in his voice thrumming through Aisling’s core. The mortal queen stood from where she sat, blowing out her fist of fire as the sun peaked its golden eyes over the summit’s edge. “If I’d been in your position”—she forced herself to meet his eyes—”I would’ve killed you too.” And she was cursed with knowing that deep down, she would’ve enjoyed doing it.
The first ancient, dangerous beast I ever encountered I married.”
“You live in fear, Lir, and it will eat you alive if you allow it.” “No, I live in the past, afraid to either fail you as I did Narisea, as I nearly did at the Isle of Mirrors, or commit the same crimes as my mother in your name. To either fail to protect you or fail to kill you.”
