Author: Audrey Grey
Category: Fantasy
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/26858_13
“It just does.” I cross my arms, pretending my body doesn't react to the throaty purr in his voice. “You don’t get it. How can I give myself to a stranger?”
A near-imperceptible flinch ripples across his countenance. Never taking his gaze off my lips, he drags his knuckles gently across my jaw. “Then get to know me, Princess. All of me.”
Fae ears, everything about him—from his voice to his smoldering eyes to the way his fingers press into my flesh—drips sex and desire.
Which is exactly why I can’t trust my feelings around him.
I exhale, trying to break the spell his presence has over me. “What about your father? I thought he would get suspicious if we’re together.”
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“I’ll take care of him.” His sharp features harden with determination. Whoa, he’s sexy when he’s serious—
I clear my throat. “And the school?”
“Everyone thinks I’m still with Inara.”
Oh, that. Of all the reasons—plural—falling for the Winter Prince is a bad idea, his pretend relationship with Inara is the worst. Both let the ruse that they’re still together play out, although for very different reasons.
Inara refuses because her ego can’t handle publicly losing him. And Valerian goes along with the rumor that they’re still together for my safety. Because as long as his father and all the other courts think their engagement is still on, no one will pay any attention to his interest in me.
“I could be expelled,” I remind him.
He smiles, the grin so arrogant that I’m reminded how much power he commands. “No, you couldn’t. One word from me and the headmistress won’t touch you.”
“Okay. What about what happened to Evelyn?” A blush creeps over my cheeks at the thought.
“You mean, what if you became pregnant?” he asks softly. “There are herbs to prevent pregnancy as well as spells. What happened to your friend was a tragedy, but that won’t happen to you—if you choose to give yourself to me.”
Give myself to him? Like a shiny present ready to be unwrapped? I shiver, a pulse of warmth hitting me square in the chest as I imagine his deft fingers slowly undressing me—
No, Summer. We all know where that road leads—darkling city. So unless you enjoy being a zombie who dines on Fae flesh, knock it off.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he leans forward, his wavy ink-colored hair sweeping over his forehead, and brushes his mouth over mine. “What we share will never be simple. It’s always going to be messy and complicated and dangerous.”
The second our lips meet, a wave of need rushes over me, so thick I can’t breathe.
“But screw easy. Easy’s boring.” He nips at my bottom lip. “You can’t tell me this isn’t worth fighting for.” o;Whoever he answers to glamoured him into secrecy. There are ways to break past a glamour that powerful, but most would result in his death, and Cal’s father is a high-ranking general in the Winter Court.” Valerian runs a finger over the sharp tip of his ear. “Back home, our lands are increasingly under attack from the darkling scourge, and we need the general more than ever. Still, if it were up to me and not my father, I would have punished him appropriately.”
I shiver. I know exactly what appropriately means, and it involves the dark side of Fae justice.
Not that Cal wouldn’t deserve to be murdered in the most creative ways imaginable. But . . . still. It’s just another reminder of how different the Fae and the human world is, and all the problems that arise from merging them.
To my left, near a wrought iron set of patio furniture, movement catches my eye. A blur wavers in the air. Once my eyes pierce the glamour, my lips stretch into a grin.
“Hey, Asher!” I call.
The dragon shifter blinks at me with those huge moss-green eyes, his black-tipped gray wings pulled tight to his back. Sunlight swims along the leathery wings, illuminating delicate green markings. “Hey, Summer.”
“Mack’s inside, if you . . . you know, maybe want to say hi?”
He frowns, tugging at his shoulder-length brown hair, pulled back into a man-bun only Asher could pull off. “I’m on duty.”
Right. Now that someone knows Valerian’s name, it’s only a matter of time before they strike again.
I glance around, searching the premises for the other guards Eclipsa assigned to Valerian when she’s not available. But she chose well, and not a single one gives up their position.
Unable to keep finding things to distract myself from Valerian, I turn to my mate. His eyes fall to my lips, but he tears his gaze away, hands me a small, thin present wrapped in ice-blue wrapping paper and ivory ribbon, and says, “Eclipsa said mortals celebrate their birth dates with presents, so . . . this is for you.”
The moment I strip the last shred of paper from the gift and spy the delicate silver frame, heavy and cold against my fingers, I know who’s inside.