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He steps in close, tilting my chin up. “I want to be good at this, cherub. At us.”
“Tell me a secret,” I whisper. “Another one?” He looks so legitimately put out that I laugh. I can’t even remember the last “secret” he told me—was it about his friendship with Malaki? “Yes, another one,” I say. He groans and pulls me tighter. “Fine—but only because I like you.” I smile a little against him. Can’t believe asking him actually worked. Des smooths a hand over my feathers. “The only thing I dislike about your wings is that they hide your ass—and I really like your ass.” The room is silent for all of three seconds, and then I can’t contain my laugh. “Des, that’s not what I meant
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“You were everything I never knew I wanted. You were chaos. You were desperation. You were the most mysterious secret I’d ever come across. Everything about you drew me in—your innocence, your vulnerability, hell, even your tragic life. You were the most captivating creature I’d ever met.”
In the darkness, I see him staring back down at me. “You are magic, love.”
I catch Des’s eye as he steps aside, and I give him a look. Threatening kids, even creepy ones, is not kosher. He meets my gaze with a steely one of his own. All right. Banishment it is.
“Cheer up, love,” he says. “This will be fun.” Fun, my ass. The only thing remotely pleasant about this experience is that Des is wearing an Iron Maiden shirt, his tattoos are on full display, and his leather pants are hugging the shit out of his backside. I mean, I can be mad at him and still enjoy the view.
“Callie,” he says, sounding disappointed, “I’m wounded. I would never lead you astray.” Says the man who taught me to drink and gamble. I think he needs to tighten up his definition of astray.
“I would steal the stars from the sky for you,” he whispers into my ear. “Anything to hear you laugh like that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I love you, Temper.” Her arms come around me a second later. “I know. How could you not? I blew up a portal for you.”
Des spins the man so he faces the crowd. And then, in front of hundreds of his subjects, my mate drags his blade across the fairy’s throat. A waterfall of blood cascades from the wound. Fucking Methuselah, that is one way to handle your enemies.
“Release your siren.” The order comes out of nowhere. “Why?” I pant, ducking another swing of his sword. “I’m curious about something.” I carve my own blade upward at him, but he springs away before I can make contact. “Leave her alone,” I say. She had a busy evening last night. Even evil bitches like my siren need their rest.
“How did you…?” “I borrowed their light for an evening,” Des explains, starlight reflecting in his eyes. I let out a surprised laugh, remembering our late-night conversation on Phyllia, the Land of Dreams. I would steal the stars from the sky for you. You wouldn’t have to steal them, Des. “You made a deal with the stars?” I ask, incredulous. “I asked nicely.”
“I’ll say this for the Bargainer,” Temper says, “he throws a mean right hook. That pretty-boy king went down like a boner in church.” Temper, ever the eloquent one.
So far today, I’ve managed to eat breakfast…then nearly upchuck said breakfast while training with Des. Oh, the joys of becoming a weapon of mass destruction.
I am someone’s nightmare, I tell myself. Sure, that someone is probably the next macaron I come across, but hey, we all start somewhere.
“What you did…” He searches my face. “No one will forget it. Not that woman you protected, not the room full of fairies, not the Flora Queen and her consort—and not me. Mara might wear a crown, but everyone in that room saw who the true queen was today.”
“My brave mate, my fierce mate. No fairy has ever been prouder of his woman.”
“When I close my eyes, all I see is the shape of your face and the brightness of your smile. You are the stars in my dark sky, cherub.”
“Are they dead?” I ask. The corner of his mouth quirks. “Define dead.” Jesus.
I guess wanting a human woman to fondle you is extra scandalous.
“My friends,” he says, grasping both Des and Mara on the shoulders, “why don’t we find a quiet place to rip each other’s throats out?”
The rescued guard gets up, dusting dirt and bark off himself. He kneels before me, taking my hand and pressing it to his forehead. “I owe you more than just my allegiance, my queen. I vow that as long as I live, my shield and my sword will protect you. My life is yours.”
“If my mate is going to break the law, she should at least invite me along,” he says, pushing away from the tree.
It’s a peculiar kind of agony, knowing the love of your life would be alive if not for you.
“So I’m to have powers but never use them?” I say heatedly. This is an old, scarred battle of ours. “And I’m to read but never speak of my knowledge?” She reaches for my hand and runs her thumb over my knuckles. “And you are to have strength without abusing it,” she adds. “Yes, my son. Be humble. Speak, but listen more. Rein in your magic and your mind.”
