Page 84 of Dark Fate

And me? I’m all kinds of fucked, my body thrumming with a need that’s urgent and all-consuming. I want to rip her clothes off and give in to the primal urges, to bury myself inside her and lose myself in her heat.

But I hold back, my fists clenched as I drink her in, my eyes roaming over every inch of her perfect form.

"Well, hey there, Thunder Throb," she purrs, floating up to me with a sultry smile that makes my blood run hot. Rising on the balls of her feet, she plants a soft kiss on my lips, her scent invading my senses and making my whole body tighten with barely restrained need.

I clasp her waist, yanking her close until every inch of her is pressed against me, and growl low in my throat, "You look fucking delicious, baby—I could devour you right here and now, attendants be damned."

"And you…" She reaches up and tugs at my beard, "I love this." Her fingers thread through the coarse hair. My eyes damn near roll back in my skull, and I let out a rumbling moan as she keeps pulling, the sensation shooting straight to my cock.

The soft coughs from her attendants slice through the moment like a bucket of ice water, reminding us that we’re not alone. "My lady, this way, please," one of them murmurs with a neutral tone.

Damn. There goes my chance to have her all to myself before we have to play nice at dinner.

"Hold up, where do you think you’re going?" I demand, my voice a near-snarl of frustration. "Dinner ain't for another hour, and I’m not done with you yet."

Dani just flashes me that knowing smile, the one that says she’s reading me like an open book. "Drinks in the formal room," she tells me. "We have to make an appearance, Rhyland. You know the drill."

I grunt, knowing she’s right but hating it all the same.

Dani places a soothing hand on my chest. "Down, boy," she murmurs, her eyes sparkling with mischief and promise.

Easy for her to say. I'm riled up, every muscle in my body coiled tight with the urge to grab her, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her off to the nearest secluded corner.

But I know I can’t. Not yet. We have appearances to maintain and a game to play. So I take a deep breath, fighting to get myself under control.

Fuck. This is going to be a long night.

Danica

37

Iwas halfway to cloud nine when Mr. Viking Temptation himself, Rhyland, strutted in. The man's the spitting image of every girl's Norse god fantasy—his hair cut just right, those sculpted features, delicious muscles, and that scruff he’s rocking, all a downright siren call to my fingers.

I let out a soundless "wow"—the man is downright edible.

My pulse picked up the pace as the vibe between us hummed with his craving—it's like a fiery spark just waiting to catch, and boy, is it contagious. I caught his smoldering gaze and let my lips curve in a sly little smirk, knowing I was pushing all his buttons without saying a word.

We saunter into the formal room, and it's like walking into a scene from a Bridgerton episode. Laughter and chatter float over the clinking of glasses, and gorgeous fae folks are dressed to the nines in casual and chic attire everywhere I look. It’s like the Fae of this court decided to let their hair down and throw one hell of a soirée.

Lucian’s lounging with a glass in hand, looking like the cat that got the cream, while Erik stands nearby, all brooding elegance and mysterious allure. Axilya radiates regal confidence beside them, and Faderyn’s hanging out in the corner, talking it up with another noble fae.

Rhyland takes my hand, his touch sending delicious heat through my body as he guides me into the room. His charisma and smoldering looks are like magnets, drawing every eye in the place to us.

We settle into our seats among the group, and our attendants swoop in with drinks that look like some magical mixologist brewed them. The glasses are iridescent and filled with a golden liquid that seems to glow from within.

“What’s this?” I ask, eyeing the enchanted concoction with curiosity and wariness.

Alina, ever the font of knowledge, gives me a conspiratorial wink. “It’s our specialty, My Lady. Brewed from the finest grapes kissed by the sun in our vineyards,” she explains, making it sound like the nectar of the gods.

I bring the glass to my nose, taking in the aroma—it’s like distilled sunlight, zesty with a hint of lemon.

Tempted, I take a small sip; a symphony of flavors bursts onto my taste buds. “This is delicious!”

“Thank you, My Lady. It’s... got a special kick to it,” Alina responds with a chuckle. She gives me a gracious curtsy before making her exit.

“Wait,” I call out, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Who are all these people?” I ask hurriedly, hoping to snag an answer before she can leave.

Alina pauses mid-step, turning back to face the gathering with sparkling eyes. “My Lady, feast your eyes on the resplendent Fae of The Sun Court,” she declares, her voice brimming with a mix of reverence and pure, unadulterated glee. "They've gathered here to extend a heartfelt welcome to you and your friends. It’s in your honor that they've conjured up this magnificent feast and party,” she explains, looking like she might burst with pride.

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