Chapter 28 #2
Transfixed by my weakness—his dimples—I registered too late that he’d stalked to me once more and tucked me back into his embrace. His nose returned to the crook of my neck, and since his breath and lips tickled, I couldn’t suppress a squeal.
High time to distract the clingy fae—and have some nagging questions answered.
“How often do you use kohl? You don’t even seem the type who does.”
“Uhm, I don’t.” Dion’s voice sounded muffled since he refused to lift his head.
“Oh? But there’s an entire tray with beauty products in your washroom.”
Dion stiffened as my distraction came to fruition. A coil in my stomach tightened as he straightened.
“Danartha would be my guess. I bet she ordered some servant to stock my bathing chamber with her stuff.”
“Danartha, huh?” My eyebrow shot up, and the unwanted picture of a female fae so beautiful my brain hurt—sprawled out on the four-poster—haunted my vision.
Shrugging, Dion made a face as if he’d bitten into something sour but remained silent.
Maybe he didn’t want to elaborate, but I wouldn’t accept his reluctance to share vital information.
“Your intended?”
“Fuck, no. She wishes.”
“Are you sure she’s aware she isn’t?” The hypothetical female conjured by my overactive imagination snaked her perfect arms around Dion from behind, no matter how hard I willed her to disappear.
His arms circling my waist tightened, and I met his teasing gaze with a preventive scowl. “Why so interested, Naya? Are you jealous?”
Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “No. But unwilling to be the awkward third wheel when your lover visits while I’m stuck in your chambers, princeling.” Which was the truth. Mostly.
“Don’t worry. I never take anyone into my bedroom to fuck. Don’t want them to get funny ideas.”
“Like snatching a royal heir?” On one hand, I was relieved there wasn’t a parade of fae moving in and out of this room, but on the other hand, his comment implied that he wasn’t opposed to trysts anywhere else. But why should he?
“For example. You’ll see, most courtiers are ruthless, cunning, and power-hungry.”
“So, like you?”
“Oh, just you wait, you cheeky tiny woman.” Dion lunged at me, and I squeaked as he nipped my earlobe.
As much as I attempted to wriggle away, the bastard was way too strong. Clinging to my resolve and despite better knowledge, I took another shot at freeing myself. We needed to stop before he succeeded in switching my reason off as well—again.
Obviously, Dion hadn’t gotten the same message, and his arms were like steel restraints trapping me in. He growled in displeasure at my repeated escape attempts, and my resistance melted away as he scraped his canines down my neck, driving me half mad.
Gods.
“I’ll show you how ruthless I am.” His radiant eyes met mine, and the heat in his gaze was incinerating my blood. My breath hitched, and as he pushed me against the nearest wall, caging me in, part of me had already surrendered.
“You should let me go, Dion.”
“No.”
A growl formed in my throat for once. “Yes.” Only, in the exact same moment the word slipped from my lips, he attacked his—and secretly mine—favorite spot with his sharp teeth, and instead of angry, my retort seemed more like a breathy encouragement.
“The only acceptable answer.”
“As if—ah, gods—”
“Oh, Nayana—I can’t wait to repeat our lesson about divinity.”
“There won’t be—”
“Believe me, there will be.”
“Arrogant bastard.” My lips curled into a pout, and I only recognized my mistake as Dion’s gaze dipped to my mouth and his left hand sneaked higher, his fingers entwining in my hair close to my scalp.
That he tugged at my tresses wasn’t painful, not at all. He angled my head to his liking as he crowded me further into the wall. “At least I stopped lying to myself, did you know?”
No, no, no. “Then you’re delusional.” Instead of delivering my words with a strong tone, they were accompanied by shaky panting, and he took this as an invitation to pepper kisses along my jaw.
My defiance was crumbling away, and I couldn’t even be mad at Dion for battering down my defenses.
After all, he didn’t have to be a genius to figure out how much he affected me, despite my best efforts.
Sensing my capitulation, he doubled his aspirations to drive me completely insane. His lips found mine, and all my reservations were forgotten.
A chiming sound echoed through the room right as my lips parted under his demand, and Dion growled in frustration directly into my mouth.
He broke our contact before changing his mind.
His lips branded mine hard for another second before he withdrew again, our faces only inches apart.
“This isn’t over just because someone is at the door.
We postpone. And, Naya, you still owe me. ”
My breath was ragged as I connected the dots. He’d referred to the conversation I’d promised him in Amalach, minutes before the Rite of Binding, but after we’d made out. When I’d still believed him to be human. I was determined to avoid this discussion for as long as possible.
“Wait here. If another male lurks out there and catches your scent, he’ll be a dead fae.” Dion released me and stalked out of the bedroom, disappearing without another word.
So, other fae with his sensitive senses existed? Gods, that couldn’t be true.
Taking a shuddering breath, I refused to focus on such potential horrors and used the respite to collect myself.
But ignoring certain truths became more complicated because I couldn’t deny I came alive under Dion’s touch, no matter how much this scared me shitless.
There were too many reasons why us being physical was a bad idea and not enough arguments why giving in to the attraction would be a splendid plan. Insane chemistry and allure weren’t sufficient to cancel out all the negative aspects.
“Woman. Come.” Dion called from the antechamber, and the earlier playfulness and desire were absent from his voice.
My airways tightened as I left the bedroom, doom on my mind, and I crossed the space to where Dion towered.
His former larger-than-life attitude was firmly back in place, including a bored and arrogant expression on his face, and he’d latched his gaze on two male fae standing in the open door.
Their livery bore a vague similarity to the steward’s, but since the garments weren’t quite as fancy as Fainic’s, I concluded they must be his lackeys.
“Finally. There you are. Come on, you’ll accompany me to His Royal Majesty, High King Galrach Folus Iadrann of Galanta. And you’d better mind your manners.”
Anxiety exploded in my guts. Dion had been so convinced that his grandfather would summon him alone, at least this early on, and I hadn’t mentally prepared myself enough for a royal confrontation yet.
Why hadn’t he taught me about how I was supposed to act in front of the High King of the fae? Which would have been a much better idea than making out.
And now there wasn’t any time left for essential lessons concerning etiquette since Dion was already prowling down the corridor like a menace, the two fae in livery and me in tow.
Keeping my mouth shut, I quickened my step to stay close to the male, who was worlds apart from the playful, pushy bastard he’d been before trouble had appeared at our doorstep.
I wondered, and not for the first time, if I’d ever seen Dion without some sort of mask.
Gods, as if there weren’t more important issues to dwell on. The meeting with Galrach was inevitable, and no matter how much I lied to myself that he wouldn’t harm me, my stomach was in painful knots, pushing burning acid up my throat.