Page 88 of Dark Fate

"Damn, check you out, suppressing all those wild urges and cravings—and I'm not just talking about what you're stuffing in that beautiful mouth,"Rhylandmurmurs, his voice low and rough, meant for my ears alone.

I shoot him a knowing smirk, not missing a beat. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises. But don't worry, keeping my cravings in check is a talent—and trust me, it's not limited to the dinner table."

I let my words hang between us, heavy with promise and innuendo.

Rhyland's reaction is immediate and almost comical—his cough is a strangled sound, and his drink doesn't go down as smoothly as planned. As he sputters and recovers, I don't dare let the concern flicker across my face. Instead, I cock an eyebrow and lean in with a half-smile dancing on my lips.

"Is that a threat?" he growls lowly, eyes flickering with that familiar fire that tells me he's already weaving strategies and scenarios in his head, plotting his next move in this dangerous game we're playing.

My response is laced with mischief, a siren's call wrapped in a teasing lilt. "Only if you think you can handle it, Viking."

Rhyland's lips curve into a smug grin, his ocean-blue eyes blazing with a dangerous promise that sends a shiver down my spine. "Handle it? Sweetheart, no force on this earth or beyond could stop me from handling anything you dare to throw my way." His voice is a low rumble threaded with the certainty of a predator who's never known defeat, a king who's never met a challenge he couldn't conquer.

I snatch up my glass, its contents catching the light and twinkling like liquid stars, and down it a bit faster than intended, the sweet burn of the wine a welcome distraction from the heat building between us. The vintage is sweet, with a subtle kick that sneaks up on you, much like the challenge I've just lobbed intoRhyland's court. Setting the glass down, I tilt it expectantly, silently asking for another pour, even as my inner voice screams to slow down.

Shit.

My inner voice reminds me that challengingRhylandis probably not the smartest move, especially here and now, surrounded by the watchful eyes of the Fae court. We're supposed to focus on diplomacy, forging alliances, and gathering information, not on the electric current of desire that crackles between us like a live wire.

It's too late now, though. The gauntlet has been thrown, and the twinkle inRhyland's eye says game on. I can practically feel the anticipation thrumming through him, the barely leashed hunger threatening to consume us both.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself and remind myself of what's at stake. We have a mission and destiny to fulfill, and I can't let myself get distracted. We need to make nicey-nice with these Fae right now.

But even as I try to focus on the conversation swirling around us, the pointed questions and veiled insinuations of the Fae nobles, I can feel the pull ofRhyland's presence like a physical thing. It's like he's the sun, and I'm a helpless planet caught in his orbit, unable to resist the gravitational force of his desire.

Danica

39

The meal winds down to a close with few words shared amongst us—I’m too wrapped up in my own sensations to contribute much to the conversation anyway. It’s like my body has become a live wire, every nerve ending sparking with a strange, effervescent energy that I can’t quite place.

That same handsome Fae andFaderynseem utterly engrossed in whatever world-saving topic they’re quietly debating, their heads bent together in intense discussion. Then, they both grab their drinks and head off to another room.Lucian, of course, draws peals of laughter from Elowen, his charm as potent as ever. I can’t help but wonder what stories he’s spinning to coax such mirth from the usually composed Fae, but knowingLucian, it’s probably a mix of outrageous anecdotes and flirtatious quips.

As for me, I’m trying to pinpoint this peculiar buzz creeping over me, a sensation that’s both exhilarating and unsettling. This isn’t like the wine back inWhispervale, with its pleasant warmth and gentle loosening of inhibitions. No, this is something else entirely, an almost... magical force.

Each sip I took felt like swallowing a spark of pure energy, and now I’m fizzing inside like a potion about to boil over. Heat creeps up my skin, a flush that starts at my chest and rises to my cheeks until I feel like I’m glowing from within. I resort to fanning myself with my hand, seeking respite from the inexplicable warmth engulfing me.

Glancing around the table, I notice that others seem to be in similar states of merry disarray, their faces flushed and their eyes bright with a feverish light. Some sway in their seats as if caught in the throes of some private euphoria, while others drift off to chase their newfound bliss elsewhere. ButRhyland, he’s cool as a cave in winter, his composure unruffled and his gaze sharp and assessing. His self-control starkly contrasts my mounting disarray.

Rhyland’s gaze cuts through the haze, enveloping me, pinning me with a look of concern that’s tinged with something darker, more primal. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and rough, threading through the fog inside my head like a beacon at night.

I pull myself together with an effort, determined not to let the weird, effervescent feeling show. “Yup! Just need to find the potty,” I say with what I hope is a convincing smile, my voice coming out a bit too bright and chirpy to my own ears.

I rise from my seat, the motion slow and deliberate to counteract the dizziness that threatens to send me tumbling back down. Alina, bless her, points me in the right direction with a knowing look, and I stumble off searching for the facilities.

But even as I weave through the crowd, dodging swaying bodies and tripping over my feet, I can feelRhyland’s gaze burning into my back, a tangible force sending liquid heat to my already burning core.

Navigating through the blur, I stay focused on my destination, my mind locked on the singular goal of reaching the restroom before I combust. The path feels longer than it should, a winding maze of corridors that seems to stretch on forever, but soon enough, I’ve found sanctuary in the blessed privacy of the ladies’ room.

After taking care of the necessities, I wash my hands in the ornate basin, and the cool water is a welcome respite against my overheated skin. But the relief is short-lived, as another wave of that bizarre, electric sensation surges through me, setting my nerves ablaze with a force that steals my breath.

This time, it’s not content with just making me hot and bothered—oh no, that would be too easy. Instead, it stokes a fire inside me, arousal so fierce and consuming that it feels like it’s trying to claw its way to the surface, to break free of the constraints of my body and mind.

I grip the counter’s edge, my knuckles turning white with the force of my hold, as I try to ground myself against the onslaught of sensation. This unbidden intensity has alarmed and confused me, leaving me reeling and desperate for answers.

What on earth was in that wine?

The realization strikes me mid-shudder, the heat coiling tighter in my belly as understanding dawns. Could it be? It’s not beyond the realms of imagination, especially not withRhylandinvolved. The man’s a landmine of vampire allure, a walking, talking aphrodisiac with a smirk that could melt panties at fifty paces. And knowing our bond, the strange, inexplicable connection that seems to grow stronger with each passing day, it’s not a stretch to think he could have sent a sizzling, wordless command through whatever mystical channel we’ve got going on. Horny bat signals, indeed.

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