29. The Fae King
As I said her name, she looked up in my eyes with what I believed, what I hoped, was longing. Did I dare hope for affection too?
But then I watched as the light flickered out of her eyes. She looked ready to bolt as she asked, ”Isn’t it customary to tell your bride your true name?”
Just like that, romance ended as abruptly as it had begun. I groaned and slid back into the water, hiding all signs of my body’s continued response to her naked form—warm, curved, and so very nearly ready for the next step.
I wanted to give her my name, but everything between us was complicated. Yes, we were betrothed, but I had brought her here as my enemy. Her mother had cursed me. A secret she did not yet know. One among many, including the fate of her own sister.
Maybe it was beneath me, but I snapped. ”Isn’t it customary for a bride to love her groom? Do you love me, little sparrow?”
She paused, an indecipherable series of emotions flickering across her face.
”It’s not fair that you can lie,” I said.
”It’s not fair that you can omit,” she replied.
”You’re right.” I was omitting so very many things.
”Maybe-maybe we should say goodnight,” she faltered.
”Maybe,” I said, trailing a longing hand down her cheek.
As she walked away, I was dying to stop her, to tell her everything. I wanted to make her mine. Now, breaking the curse was just a convenient bonus.
What had come over me?
There was no more denying it. I was falling for this human.
And the landing was going to be hell.