Page 32 of Don't Fae With Dragons

I’m not a “safe” person –I know that. I’ve hurt and killed more men than I care to count. That’s part of the deal, right? Being powerful means doing horrible things, and the violence you commit requires that you accept responsibility for it.

It wasn’t a surprise Port and I had assassins sent after us, given our “trade.” It wasn’t the first time we ran, either –although itwasthe first time we were truly in danger. Our assailants had some magick about them, something unearthly, that allowed them to dispel some of ourownpowers.

That’s how we ended up here, with Cory. Although it’s become a blessing in its own right, it’s not a good feeling: running away, landing in someone else’s protection.

I’m still getting used to the whole “damsel in distress” thing, obviously, so in its own strange way, keeping Mili safe is comforting. It’s like I have some power again, in keeping my power tucked away from her, keepingmyselffar away. Of course, though, one can only avoid something for so long until it starts to drive you to utter madness.

All that to say ... yeah, I needed to hunt.

I’m ten minutes into following a large deer when the smell of spice and cacao hits me:Mili. Her name echoes around in my mind, catching like flames to dry wood, bouncing through my consciousness. I try to avoid it, but I hear the light rustling of faery footsteps, and I smell her sweat, and I hear her heavy breathing, and I give in–I have to see her.

Even though I was already walking carefully, I slow my pace significantly and shift my trail to head straight for Mili’s scent. The deer hears me turn and sprints away, and I silently curse myself for giving in to the temptation to see the faery. Still, how can I blame myself?

All I’ve been able to think of, since I last saw her in the woods, is that long, black hair, and those bright and gentle hazel eyes. The thought of seeing her now, of watching her work her magick, or run, or fly, sends a hot blush of arousal down my spine.

I walk through the forest like a panther after its prey, stepping slowly – right foot, then left –on soft mud. I avoid leaves and brush, crouching expertly to dodge vines and hanging branches. I breathe slowly, ignoring my pounding heart as I move like shadow through the forest.

Eventually, the smell of her consumes me, and I have to focus not to inhale it in one heavy, choking gulp. I feel my pupils dilate with heat and need, and I clench my teeth to control myself.

Then, suddenly: there she is. The beautiful faery healer of Ethelinda, utterly unaware that I’ve just stalked through the woods to find her.

I can’t let her see me, I know –can’t risk a real interaction, can’t risk her gettingclose–and that kills me. I can behave, though, I can be good. I’ll just crouch low, behind a patch of heavy underbrush, and watch her.

She looks frustrated, her brows knitted together and teeth gritted. She’s grunting, throwing her hands about in some sort of spell, or something. I don’t know much about faeries, I realize with a silent smile. I suppose this is my first real experience with one, anyway. There aren’t many where Port and I hail from.

Her shiny black hair hangs limp from sweat, especially in the strands around her face, and I barely stop myself from licking my lips. The thought of sucking the salt water from her hair, then moving my tongue to her body –oh, godsdamnit. I can’t be here.

My breathing catches as I start to move, inching myself slowly backwards, hoping I can get out of here without her seeing me. My cock is throbbing in my pants, I realize, and I feel a touch of premature wetness on my undergarments. I tighten my jaw, humiliated with the effect this girl has on me without eventrying, and continue my backwards scrabble through the leaves.

Then flames spark up from my fingertips, right as I look back at Mili for one final glance.

Mili whirls around with the sudden crackling sound, and I throw myself behind a larger tree.

“Who goes there?” her voice booms out over the clearing. Her tone is shockingly commanding, and I actually burst out laughing. Damn my fabulous sense of humor.

“Oh, gods,” I grumble through my smile. I stand up and stamp out the small fire with my boots, rolling my eyes at the whole situation.

“Max?” she asks, eyes wide. She stumbles backwards through the clearing, and almost trips over an exposed root.

“Mili, come now. Do we need to do the whole run-for-your-life thing again?”

I feel like an ass already, but it’s easier if she doesn’t like me. I still need to figure out how I’m going to play off the wholehiding-and-watching-herthing, too. Sigh.

“Why were you hiding and watching me?” she asks on point.

This time, I sigh aloud. “Cory doesn’t want you out here alone,” I lie with an eye roll. “Didn’t you know?”

She frowns, crossing her arms. It pushes her breasts up, and suddenly I can’t focus. She says something, but I don’t even hear it. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to clear the image from my mind.

“Are you even listening to me?” she asks, more irate by the second.

I smirk. “Sorry, but no.”I am such a dick.

Then, for some reason, she laughs. Not just any laugh, either – a completely, utterly hysterical laugh. She bends over, one hand on her stomach, and just loses it for a minute. I stand there, feeling increasingly awkward, before she finally stands back up. She wipes her eyes, which are teary with glee, and looks to me.

“Gods,” she says, “I needed that laugh. You’re actually pretty funny, aren’t you? Well, mostly rude, but funny, too.”

I scratch the back of my neck at that. I’m not sure whether to feel more insulted or flattered, so I just shrug. “Someone has to be.”

---