Page 15 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

The male remained still, listening to my threats without a word.

“I am not a pawn, a toy, or a pet. I am not just some princess waiting to be carried off or a female begging to be rescued,” my voice went down an octave, sounding utterly lethal. I closed the space between us until we were breathing the same air, and I did my best to look down on him despite the height difference. “I am an immensely powerful being that offers kindness to those who are smart enough to treat me with respect, and promises wrath to those stupid enough to wish harm on me. So, before we continue our little adventure, tell me, Bellamy, are you smart or are you stupid?”

Bellamy did not react the way I had hoped. Instead of cowering or submitting or even looking stunned, he smiled. His eyes wrinkled at the corners and his dimples deepened. For a moment I caught a sense of his mind, and I realized he had found my speech…endearing. Was I losing my touch?

“I would like to think I am smart, but I find myself growing increasingly stupid in your presence,” he answered, cupping either side of my face with his warm hands and leaning in. Just before our lips met, he paused. It felt like a question, as if he were waiting for permission.

As mad as I was, there was still no part of me that wanted him to stop. He seemed to feel that, because he brought his lips to mine. The kiss was timid and slow. His tongue was in my mouth, wrapping around mine. One of his hands slid to the back of my head, pulling me closer somehow. My hands moved of their own accord, grabbing onto his short, dark waves. I heard him let loose a little moan before pulling away.

To my surprise, he leaned his forehead against mine and smiled down at me. His cheeks were flushed, making his freckles less noticeable. Despite how frustrated I was with him, I also had to admire how utterly free Bellamy was. Something I had never associated myself with by any means, but that I longed for.

I pulled away again, knowing that I needed to keep my wits about me. This male had just taken me across islands without my permission, kissing him was idiotic at best. Even though I knew that, my stomach still flipped at the sight of him licking his lips.

“If you would still like to spend the day with me, I would greatly enjoy showing you where I live,” Bellamy said, holding his hand out to me just as he did in my chambers.

“What if I say no?” I questioned, my eyes forming into slits.

“Then we go back to the palace,” he answered with a shrug. I knew he was being sincere, but I felt as though I should show at least some sort of self-preservation instinct.

“Swear it to me,” I demanded.

“You want me to swear what exactly?” he asked with a raised brow. A fair question, I supposed.

“Swear to me that you mean me no harm and that you will never take me somewhere against my will again,” I said.

Without hesitation, Bellamy got down on both knees in the sand.

“I, Bellamy, swear to you, Asher, that I mean you no harm. I swear to never take you anywhere you do not desire to go. And I will do you one better Princess, I swear to protect you for as long as you are at my side.”

He stood up and once again reached out his hand. This time, I grabbed it. A smirk formed on his lips as he interlaced our fingers. The way his hand felt in mine, our fingers tangled, was strange. It was as if they had always belonged this way, joined. I looked up to see his eyes down as well. Could he too feel that strange pull? The sense of rightness? Without warning, Bellamy began stalking forward, tugging me with him. Together, we walked off the beach.

When the sand turned to stone, we came upon a small market. There were vendors selling a variety of goods ranging from shimmering silks to lush spices to intricate pottery. The stalls themselves were simple, plain even. They appeared to be made of driftwood, the sun and salt-bleached wood shining and providing little distraction from the creations of those running the stands.

My eyes lit up at the sight of it all. I felt Bellamy looking at me but could not manage to pull my eyes away from the wonders of what was in front of us. “Is it normal to feel the urge to touch and taste and see everything?” I asked, mesmerized.

“Females often ask me that, but we are in public Asher.” I swatted his arm, rolling my eyes. He merely let out a deep chuckle. “Yes, the first time I came to the market I spent hours here. There was not a single booth I had yet to see by the time I left,” he said, smiling down at me.

“Then let’s go see it all,” I whispered.

Chapter Nine

Our first stop was to a baker that was selling sweet pastries with sugary powder on top. Bellamy introduced her as Leela, and said she had the best sweets in the market, which made her blush a deep scarlet. I had no coins with me, but Bellamy did, and he seemed more than happy to oblige as he handed her the payment. I ate the first bite and moaned loudly, earning a smile from the female. A minute later I had already devoured the entire thing. She gave me a second one, this time coated in chocolate, for free and kissed my cheek goodbye.

I continued eating the pastry as we were walking to the next booth, reveling in the way I could enjoy a sweet in public, as if it were normal. Out of nowhere, Bellamy lightly gripped my arm, halting me. I looked up at him, eyes squinting from the sun peeking through the gray clouds overhead. I felt the warmth of his hand touch my cheek just before he wiped the side of my mouth with his thumb. He held my stare as he put it in his mouth and sucked off the white powder, pulling it out with a pop.

Heat flowed to my cheeks, and I had to clench my thighs together in an attempt to calm myself down. Clearly, I was deprived. Or depraved. Bellamy winked at me and then began walking towards the next vendor we had been on our way to. My knees were shaky, but I willed my legs to move towards the teasing fae ahead.

We made our way around, each fae flashing Bellamy a wide and genuine smile. Many even came up to him, bowing their head slightly and welcoming him home. Their somewhat formal tones confirmed what I had already guessed based on the well of power I had sensed within Bellamy, he was likely the Fire Warden’s son. I did not recall much about Isolda, but I knew her to be a strong and fierce Fire. The respect Bellamy was being shown would make sense of the heir to a leader such as herself.

Throughout our time of browsing, Bellamy and I went back and forth asking the other questions. His favorite color was red, which I could have guessed. Mine was green, like sage leaves, though gold made up almost the entirety of my wardrobe. When I asked what his favorite scent was, he surprised me and said it was vanilla.

“Like the smell of you,” he had said, making my cheeks burn.

Our conversation continued like that, a give and take that I had never had with anyone other than Nicola. Even Jasper and Farai had never asked me some of these questions. And I was glowing under his attention, bathing in the heat of it. Until he asked what my greatest fear was, and I froze.

I could not share with him those concerns, those horribly intrusive thoughts. There was a fine line between discussing my least favorite food and sharing those deeper feelings that had led me to unspeakable acts. I shook my head, to both rid myself of those memories and to tell him I could not—would not—answer that question.

His eyebrows pinched together and his mouth opened slightly, as if he was poised to argue my refusal. I rushed ahead, aiming for the closest booth. It was the largest in the market, the wooden walls chipped and sun-bleached. Clothing of endless styles and colors littered every surface. The booth was beautiful and chaotic, exotic in comparison to what was sold at The Capital. The male at the counter smiled at us as we approached, and as luck would have it, Bellamy let his previous question go.

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