Page 48 of A Deal with the Shadow King

I draw away from his lips to taste the constellation of Fae tattoos behind his ear, and he meets my gaze. Something shifts, and all of the sudden, I feel lighter than air.

One’s liquid-gold irises are like the pages of an open book, more revealing than the most sensual of fairy tales. Clearer than poetry. Sweeter than music.

His eyes are full of unsung songs.

I start to undress in front of him, unzipping my jacket and shrugging it off, eager for him to touch me. I wait for some measure of warning to spark a storm in my chest, but my dark Fae isn’t offering the same sins I read about in books. The poor women in the stories Esme passed along were all left ruined and alone. They spent their whole lives regretting their moment of weakness and erred until their last breath, trying to repair the damage done.

I’d never regret his touch. If he were to break me with his hands, he’d make sure to glue me back together. I read all that in his eyes and more, along with the shape of his true name.

Spellbound, I scratch deep lines in his back, and he bites my bottom lip in response. The metallic tang of blood smears my tongue, and the eerie lightheadedness recedes.

One tears himself away. All the clarity I’d gained in his arms fades, and I bring a hand to my bloody lip, the name that had been on the tip of my tongue retreating back to the darkness.

Heartbeats echo in my throat, my chest, and the intimate, forbidden place between my legs.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he croaks, his chin angled to the ground.

“I—Why?”

Wait…is he talking about the kiss, the removal of his mask, or the bite?

Blood stains my index finger when I pat the cut. “It’s barely a nick?—”

“Near the end. I didn’t mean to enchant you.” The swirl of shadow over his heart wriggles and writhes like a nightmare threatening to crawl out.

A fierce blush brands my cheeks. All the songs I’d thought I could read in his eyes…that really should have been my cue that something was wrong. Crops.

“It’s my mistake. Let’s pretend it never happened.” He escapes to the darkness, suddenly invisible, his discarded mask vanishing along with him.

A chill envelops me, his heat gone, and the aftershocks of his kiss shiver through my body. “One?” I search the empty room, but the only sound audible is the loud pulse at my temples.

Chapter 17

A Thousand Cuts

“One abandoned you again, I see,” Mara declares. She invades the nook at the back of the balcony I claimed as my own and slumps down in the chair facing mine.

The fragrant smells steaming from her full plate of eggs, cheese, and meat turn my queasy stomach.

“Good morning, Mara.” I unfold my leg from below me and sit straight in the chair, resenting the accuracy in her statement.

One did abandon me last night and sent Lori to bring me home in the morning. The raven-haired girl offered a few encouraging words, thinking my lesson had gone badly, oblivious to the real reason her boss would leave me stranded in a world I don’t belong in, in a bedroom adjacent to a dead body.

The half-eaten apple on my plate is peppered with brown streaks, and I stare at it for a moment, trying to summon enough strength for this conversation.

“When I saw him earlier, I thought he was about to murder somebody,” Mara says.

I snap my book shut. “You saw him?”

Her fork digs into the pile of food, a big chunk already halfway to her lips. “Yes. I was just studying in the bibliotheca with Two, but One strode in like a horseman of the apocalypse and dismissed me with one look. Lori said you’d spent the night in New York…” her voice remains the same, but her eyes flick up to me for a second, the fork hanging in mid-air. “Did something happen?”

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” I leave everything as is and hurry off to the stairs.

“Catch you later, alligator.”

I shake my head, wondering what the crops is wrong with that girl, and sneak to the secluded, second-floor entrance of the library.

The stacks on the mezzanine run perpendicular to the railing, and my breath catches in my throat. A hooded figure crouches in the dark, in a perfect position to spy on the floor below. It’s one of the triplets, but with his back to me, I can’t tell which one.

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