Page 31 of The Cursed Crown

They exchanged a candid grin. “Understandable, in your haste to escape getting bored to tears by my father’s conversation.”

So, he was one of the potential heirs of the autumn court. A worthy ally, though he wouldn’t be of consequence for years to come. Still, Rissa liked him—and she wasn’t politically inclined enough to dismiss a potential friend simply because he wasn’t useful quite yet.

“I’m Teoran Gaulder.” He spoke to her, not Rydekar, which could only infuriate the unseelie king.

Rissa’s grin broadened at the thought. Though it cost her, she forced herself to keep her attention solely on Teoran, ignoring the predator lying in wait.

“Serissa Braer.” That wasn’t news to anyone, and she felt silly saying it. “I do prefer Rissa, though.”

“Rissa it is, then.”

“Serissa, your attention please.” She could hardly keep from rolling her eyes.

Finally, she turned to Rydekar. “Do you have to ruin any fun I might find?”

His expression barely changed, but she did catch a slight tremor of his lip, and the way his eyes brightened.

She just couldn’t help poking that bear.

“We have a dinner to preside over and you have a trip to get ready for afterwards. If you wish to delay either for yourfun, do let me know.”

He didn’t reiterate his threat to throw her over his shoulder and plant her where he wanted her, like he had in the treehouse, but the threat was heavily implied in his smooth, pleasant tone.

A smooth, pleasant Rydekar was more concerning than a crochety one.

Shehadpromised to obey him, for tonight at least. “Fine. Let us dine. I’m quite hungry.” The mere mention of food was enough for her stomach to come alive. The folk hungered for many a thing; food was only one of them. Remembering to eat when she was otherwise occupied wasn’t always easy. Besides, no one had offered her a bite since her arrival—a failing in rules of hospitality that would not have been tolerated on seelie land. The snub may be deliberate or not, but she didn’t care to find out.

Rydekar placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her away. Too stunned to think for a moment, she let him. Awareness electrified her bare skin under his cold palm, awakening a different kind of hunger altogether.

She hated how out of control the unseelie king made her feel.

After a few steps, she thought to glance back. “You’ll sit next to me, won’t you, Teoran?”

His green eyes brightened. “With pleasure, my queen.”

She managed not to grunt. Not him, too.

Rydekar led the way to an impossibly long white oak table that hadn’t dominated half the room moments ago. The king pulled the lone chair at one head of the table, inviting her to take a seat. When she did so, he bent his head close to her ear, breath flirting with the curve of her neck. “Don’t trust the boy.”

She snapped her head to him, before realizing the move brought their lips so, so very close. Barely an inch apart.

Thoughts left her mind—along with the rightful dose of indignation that had just flared into her bones. Rissa had no idea whether a second passed, or an entire year. She was empty of anything but a red, raw need. She could inch into him, just a little.

Rydekar straightened up and walked away to the other end of the table, joining Khal and Havryll.

Her jaw tightened.

Her eyes lowered to the empty silver place setting in front of hers, and she tuned out the crowd, tuned out Teoran, and everything else.

How could he affect her so? No one ever had. Desire was an itch that occasionally needed to be scratched, like hunger, like thirst, and the occasional piss. Not something so wild and free it felt like a breathing, living entity craving to burst out of her.

She should be able to control this. She should be able to control herself.

This must be his power—a form of magic she wasn’t equipped against.

Dinner was a grand affair with several courses of delicacies and delicious wine that tasted like ash on her tongue. She ignored Rydekar. She laughed and made small talk with Teoran and another neighbor whose name she never bothered to ask. What was said, she couldn’t begin to recall.

She was a mess, and it was all his fault.

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