Page 37 of To No End

He must have read the disappointment on my face because he stood and made his way toward me. He crawled into the spot I had made, and now that we were both in this bed without any distraction, the tiny space felt noticeably smaller. He pulled me to him, coaxing me under his arm as I rolled on my side and relaxed into the comfortable crook of his body.

“You don’t seem like the cuddling type,” I remarked teasingly.

He began to trace lazy circles on my arm with his hand. “The pleasures of the flesh are fleeting, we must enjoy them while they last.”

His words were truer than he realized, but I refused to dwell on them.

“Did you read that in some clever book of poems?” I playfully mocked.

He scoffed, disregarding my remark. “I’ll stay with you till you fall asleep, but please take no offense when I make my way back to the chair; old habits die hard.”

I’d take what I could get. I nuzzled myself further into his side, taking in the scent of him. Now that I was paying attention, I realized he smelled like sandalwood and pine. It was a comforting scent that reminded me of riding Rain through the forest in the early morning when the ground was moist with dew.

I began to run my fingers gently across the line of his waist, feeling each ridge of muscle. He grabbed my hand. “That tickles, and if you don’t stop, I’m going to be forced to do terrible things to you.”

While the challenge was more than enticing, I knew better. I was exhausted and sore—and rightfully so, given Trace’s size. I pulled my hand away and lifted it instead to his chest. He leaned in and left a gentle kiss on top of my head, lingering seconds longer to smell my hair like he had done earlier.

By now the tavern had closed and the only sound was the crackling of the fire. I tried to fight sleep, afraid of losing this moment with the dawn. The last thing I remembered was the sight of Trace’s tattooed hand intertwined with mine.

I was foolish to think there was a chance that in the morning I’d awake in his arms. After all, he had warned me. But I did not expect to find myself entirely alone. I glanced around the room from the bed and saw that all of his things were gone. This was what I got for bedding a stranger. Should I have expectedanything more than this? I was heading toward the washroom to retrieve my now-dry undergarments when I saw the note on the table.

Meet me in a week. You showed me yours. It’s only fair I show you mine.

– Trace

Laying across the top of the parchment was a solid black feather, as dark as night. Trace was a Nightwing. Not only that, but he had left me a literal piece of himself.

I carried the feather over to the window sill, letting the morning sun shine brightly over it, illuminating the green hues that only appeared at just the right angle. Nightwing Fae hailed from about as far north as the maps go. They were mountain people. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was from north of North.

I held the feather closely to my chest, letting out a sigh of relief that he wanted to see me again. Another part of me knew that missing him already was a horrible sign, and that I needed to cut off whatever this was. That returning to see him in a week was only going to make things harder.

Maybe I shouldn’t return at all. I’d just never show up, he’d realize I had no interest and move on. What good was it going to do, my having any feelings for him? I had accomplished my goal. I seduced him, I bedded him, and I should check it off the list and forget all of this.

The entire ride home I gently thumbed the feather tucked away in the pocket of my cloak, unsure if I was ever going to be able to shake the memories of Trace. Unsure if I wanted to.

CHAPTER

11

When I arrived back at the manor, I intentionally sped past my mother and father who were lounging in the parlor and headed straight for Versa’s room. I barged my way through her doorway and found her fiddling with jewelry and diadems; another frivolity of being a bride-to-be.

She turned to me in excitement, but I slammed the door behind my back and screeched, “I have a bone to pick with you, sister.”

“What?” she exclaimed, bewildered.

“In all your wild stories you shared with me, in all the recounting of your escapades, do you think you could have mentioned the fact that our wings can just uncontrollably unfurl with climax?”

I was still fuming from the preventable embarrassment I had experienced with Trace. I blamed my naivety on Versa. Of course, she had to have encountered this before. My sister’s cheeks turned red as she tried to hold in an audible laugh.

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t know?” she pleaded, her eyes seeking forgiveness. She wasn’t going to get off that easily. I could still see that twinge of amusement in her features.

“How many of your trysts have we discussed, and not once did you ever mention it,” I complained, waving my hands in disapproval.

Versa nervously twisted the necklace in her hands and looked up at me through her angelic lashes.

“Well, sister, if you must know, it’s never happened during one of my so-called trysts.”

I had already planned my retort but paused.

---