Page 24 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

“I say we get some spiced cider and, ah,” I squint, looking for the tell-tale green and navy checked awning, “some of the chocolate basil twists.” I’m not sure entirely what’s gotten a hold of me tonight but for once, for once, I’m out of my head.

I’m out of my head and I’m not thinking about the goddess-damned guild or my coven, and maybe that’s enough for me to enjoy myself.

A smile spreads across my face, and I turn back to look at Caelan, gesturing for him to come with me.

His answering smile is bright, and his eyes dance with merriment.

I like when he looks at me like that, I decide.

I’d like for him to look at me like that more often.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CAELAN

The golden witch hands me a twisted bit of fried black dough, the sweet scent of basil tingling my nostrils and the hot grease soaking through the parchment paper wrapper.

I sniff at it, taking a cautious bite.

“Unghf,” I tell her, my eyes wide in surprise.

“So good, isn’t it?” She takes a bite of her own, dropping a few coins back into the pocket of her dress and tugging me along to the next stall, where a deep red cherry cider simmers on a cauldron over a birch bark fire.

A few more coins exchange hands while I inhale the chocolate dough, a delightful mix of bitter and sweet and herbal flavors, and then Wren’s pressing a striped paper cup full of steaming cherry cider into my hand.

“It’s got a bit of a bite to it,” she warns, then polishes off her dough twist before sipping at her own cider. “It’s strong,” she says with a cough.

The vendor, a centaur with a deep chestnut hide and an overly friendly smile, chuckles. “Sorry, about that. This one fermented at a different level.”

“It’s delicious,” she says, and his grin turns slightly predatory as she takes another drink.

“Do you live around here, then?” the centaur asks, his red-brown tail flicking behind him.

“We do,” I answer for her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her close.

She stiffens slightly at my touch, but the centaur just raises an eyebrow, some of his smile disappearing.

Good.

“Thank you so much,” I tell him, and he steps back a bit when my fangs appear.

As for Wren, she sips her spiked cider with raised eyebrows. Sighing, I detach my arm from her waist and offer her my elbow again.

Unfortunately, now that I know what she feels like in my arms, I fear my dreams will be even more vivid.

“What was that about?” she asks, her lovely lips pursed.

“I didn’t like how he was leering at you.”

“He wasn’t leering,” she says with a laugh.

“He was, and he would have followed you home if you said you had a carrot for him,” I continue. “Not even a sugar cube. A lowly carrot, and he would have been eating out of your hand. Though I’m sure he was much more interested in eating what’s between your legs.”

“Caelan,” she whispers my name in a completely scandalized tone, and I rake my hand through my hair in annoyance at myself.

I don’t want her sounding like that when she whispers my name. I want her to sound like she’s unraveling, coming undone, with my mouth and only my mouth between her legs, feasting on her.

Fuck.

---