11. Lysandra
I wasn’t prepared for how dark the maze would be. The moon is full overhead, and magical orbs float every few feet, but the spots between are pitch black. There’s also some kind of magical mist hanging over the path; it’s cool against my skin and never seems to dissipate, no matter how hard I try to clear it. Between that and the lack of sound, it’s disorienting.
I tried to leave a trail of golden sparks to keep track of my movements, but as soon as I doubled back from my first dead end, some asshole had erased them.
Despite the overwhelming desire to beat Puck, I find myself having fun. I walk with some courtiers for a bit; we chat and laugh, and we groan when we come to a dead end. But no one stays together long—except for those moving in pairs—because everyone has their own ideas of which way will be the fastest to the center, where food and wine await.
Occasionally, I catch glimpses of the second generation. I spot Radley hiding in a hedge, scaring the shit out of unsuspecting Fae when he jumps out and grabs them. As soon as they leave—laughing their heads off—he slinks back into the greenery in anticipation of his next victims. Edina and Eldoris are making out in a shadowy corner, not in any kind of rush. Larisa is perched on the shoulders of a burly male with ebony skin as he runs down the pathways, shouting for him to go left—no right. She clearly can’t see from her higher vantage point, based on the number of times they pass me. When a blood-red orb shoots into the sky, I watch as a large Fae male swoops inside and scoops up Hades. Somehow, she finds me and winks as he flies her off.
The thick green walls begin to look the same, and I lose track of where I am. But I can’t give up; I certainly can’t be seen at the other party—not the way they say the word other with thinly veiled disdain. Even if it takes all night, I need to finish.
When I reach my umpteenth dead end, I pound the hedge with my fists like a toddler throwing a tantrum. It moves back to accommodate my blows, then slides right back into place.
“Already disregarding my rules?”
I don’t need to turn around to know Puck followed me into this secluded alcove. His voice is different, not dripping with its usual disdain. It’s closer to the timbre he used right before the maze.
Goddess, that flustered me.
The words, the tone, the way his mouth tilted toward mine…
It took me off guard. That’s all. There was no other reason words completely failed me when I typically have a comeback ready.
Nope. No other reason at all.
I turn from the hedge and find an amused smirk on his lips. “What rule would that be?” I ask, batting my eyelashes innocently.
“Tampering with the maze.”
“I didn’t try to alter it. It moved itself.”
“A likely story.” I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he moves closer, his movements slow and languid like a wolf stalking its prey. I hold my ground, refusing to retreat. “I could have you thrown out,” he taunts, getting close enough that I have to crane my neck to meet his gleaming emerald gaze.
“They wouldn’t believe you. Not when the wall is intact.”
“Hmm.” We’re so close I feel the buzzing of that sound everywhere. A mix of fear and anger burns my lungs. He smells like wildflowers mixed with something undefinably dangerous. It’s an intoxicating combination of sweet and manly that makes me lean in closer. “Get your fill?”
Of course, he noticed I was drifting closer. I inwardly swear for giving him the slightest amount of ammunition. But then his scent becomes stronger, more alluring if that’s possible.
Arousal.I’m smelling his arousal.
The image of him slamming me against the wall, shoving up my skirt, and fucking me roughly where no one can see or hear us suddenly makes it hard to breathe. Puck inhales, and I know he notices the change in my scent too. He smiles, slow and sexy, and for the first time since I told him I was Titania’s daughter, he looks at me with something other than hatred.
He leans closer, and I tilt my neck to give him access. His breath is hot against my skin and sends goosebumps skittering over my flesh. “Oh, princess,” he purrs. “The last thing you want to do is give me your throat.” His hand brushes down the slope of my neck. I tamp down a shiver as he pauses at my pulse point. “It would be so easy,” he says, adding pressure. Squeezing. I swallow and his thumb follows the movement, coming to rest at the hollow of my throat.
I should scream, or kick him in the balls, or do literally anything to get away, but I’m frozen in this place between desire and fear.
“I don’t think you can get away with killing three monarchs,” I gasp.
“And yet, here you are. Hiding in the dark with your mother’s murderer.” He leans closer, his arm resting on the hedge behind me and caging me in. Other than the hand still around my neck, he’s not touching me, but I feel him everywhere. Heat radiates from his body and the deep baritone of his voice sends vibrations through me, shooting straight to my clit.
He tsks. “What would everyone think if they could see you now?”
He’s right. I can’t imagine what we look like, but it wouldn’t bode well to be seen with him like this. Just because it’s dark and the sound is dampened doesn’t mean someone can’t walk into this alcove.
Why does that make everything so much hotter?
With each inhale, my hardened nipples brush his chest. He makes a strained sound that has me losing all sense of reason. I can’t think beyond the throbbing in my core.
Laughter nearby has Puck dropping his hand, but he remains braced over me, hiding me from view. I gain the good sense to step away, slipping out from under his arm and heading for the path that will lead me back to the maze. My skin tingles, even out of his hold. I need to breathe, to get oxygen to my brain so I can make rational decisions.
This time, his laughter isn’t sexy, its cruel. “Going so soon?”
It halts me in my tracks. I have the feeling that leaving without the upper hand will be an epic mistake. I can’t let him win, not this early. No matter how much that little moment may have affected me, it affected him too.
I turn and saunter over to him, swaying my hips and drawing his eyes to my curves. He isn’t subtle about checking out my breasts…which I admit, look fucking fantastic. There’s something about the bras here that makes them sit higher and accentuate my cleavage.
“And if I didn’t?” I ask, adding a seductive rasp to my voice. Puck backs up two steps until his back is against the hedge. Perfect.
“If I didn’t rush off, what would happen?” I look up through my lashes. Now, it’s his turn to breathe deeply as I make a point of looking at the very prominent bulge in his pants before slowly scanning back up his body.
I use a flick of my magic to make the strap of my dress slip off my shoulder and then very, very slowly run my hands up my sides until I’m holding the material at my plunging neckline like I’m about to lower it.
“Would I regret it?” I ask, keeping his attention on me as my earth magic slowly slips out. He doesn’t even notice the movement of the plants behind him.
Males. They’re the same in every realm.
“Probably, but not for the reasons you think,” he says, his voice thick with lust.
“No,” I smirk. “I think the only one who’s going to regret this is you.”
My vines snake around his entire body like a cobra and bind him to the hedge. He gapes in shock as they secure his arms to his sides and tie his hands for good measure. It won’t last long, since he has earth magic as well, but pulling one over on him feels really fucking good.
“I hate you,” he seethes, thrashing in his restraints.
I flip him off over my shoulder and add another layer of vines for him to escape.
Turns out, I was really close to the party. One more bend and I reach the center. It’s a large clearing, and instead of the same dark greenery that comprised the maze walls, these hedges are enchanted so each inch twinkles. Nightingales sing atop spiraling topiaries, and magical sparks float down from the sky like fireworks, disappearing above the heads of the tallest guests.
Fountains of sparkling faerie wine emit a fizzy haze in the air. Servers in full tuxedos pass around dainty hors doeuvres. A quartet plays a simple jazz melody as the courtiers who have arrived first chat and laugh loudly.
When Gwyneira—who, of course, is already here—raises her wine to me in salute, everyone else turns and starts cheering. I’m immediately snagged into conversations, the Fae congratulating me on being the first of the second generation to arrive. They ask questions about the mortal realm, my upbringing, and my time spent with Vlad and the witches. I keep my answers short and light, telling funny anecdotes about the time I stayed with a werewolf pack or my time in a band back in high school. At the mention of music, they beg me to join the quartet, and even summon a guitar for me to play.
As I’m dazzling them with my knowledge of traditional Faerie music, Puck enters the party. There’s a leaf from the hedge stuck in his hair, and his perfectly tailored suit is slightly torn from the vines. Fury roils off him in waves, especially when he sees me at the center of everyone’s attention. I pretend to ignore him, pleased that the first round of our public tête-à-tête goes to me.