Page 94 of Flame and Sparrow

And even through the haze of divine wine, I noticed something strange.

“There are shadows moving under your skin.” My eyes widened as I realized the energy radiating out with each pulse of darkness felt familiar—and it wasn’t his. It was too cold. Too foul. “Death magic?” I guessed.

“The air of his territory occasionally leaves marks.”

“You were there? Today? Why?”

He shook his head. “You haven’t survived your next trial yet. That was the deal we made regarding more details about that dark place and its master, wasn’t it?”

“What about thistrial I’m surviving right now?” I asked under my breath. “I feel like I should get a reward for it, too.”

“I’m notthathorrible of a dance partner, am I?”

“I’ve had worse. Though not many worse, mind you.”

“Well, I could likely think of a few ways to reward you for your suffering.”

The low, suggestive tone of his voice sent heat creeping along the back of my neck.

“Are you imagining being rewarded, now?” A devious smile flirted with his lips. “I wonder…what are you hoping for?”

“That these rewards involve you going somewhere far, far away and not coming back for a few weeks.”

“So bold tonight.” He chuckled darkly. “I think you’ve had too much wine.”

“In wine, they say, there is truth.”

“There is. But often foolishness, too—at least in my experience.”

“Are you afraid I might let some of that truth slip? Afraid to hear what I really think of you?”

“Afraid?” His eyes flashed to a deeper shade of silver as they fixed on me. “Nothing would delight me more.”

“I promise you would not find my words delightful.”

His smile turned a bit feral, a bit dangerous. “You try my patience, Sparrow.”

It was in that precise moment that I realized he was right: Ihaddrunk entirely too much wine; I couldn’t seem to make myself shut up, even though I knew I was inching toward precarious ground. “Good. Someone needs to try you, and challenge your insufferable, arrogant—”

His gaze turned burning and wild once more, and all the fierce and slightly drunken words I’d planned to say died in my throat.

“Stop glaring at me.” I swallowed hard. “You don’t frighten me.”

“I wasn’t trying to frighten you. Believe me—you’d know if I was.”

We’d stopped dancing, I realized. I started to take a step back but caught myself, clenching my fists at my sides and taking deep breaths, trying to cool myself despite the heat from his body, from his words, from the powerful magic that always seemed to be simmering just beneath the surface of him.

“Though if it’s not fear, then I can only assume it’s something else making you so flustered in my presence as of late,” he said.

“There is nothing but an overwhelming feeling of disdain flustering me right now.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I think there could be something else.”

“I think you’re mad.”

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