Page 146 of Flirting with Darkness

It sizzled.

He tensed against me, every muscle taut, as solid as the granite altar where we’d made our vows. His teeth gritted, his throat corded, and his eyes squeezed shut in such obvious agony, it seized my heart.

But he made no sound.

I gaped as an angry red burn etched into his flesh. Sweat beaded his brow.

“Stop.” It came out on a breath. “Stop!” I shrieked it the second time.

With a trembling exhale that blew across my face, he pulled the knife away. He shifted his grip and at last I could drop the damn thing. It thudded into the rug beside my head.

I sagged, not even fighting as he pinned that hand to the floor. But his clasp gentled as though he felt all the fight leave me. The earlier energy had evaporated, and now my body was even more heavy and aching than it had been from the day’s hard walk.

“I told you I would protect you to my last breath, Rose.” His words came out ragged, as though scoured by the pain. “Do you understand now? We are married. I will not hurt you.”

His chest heaved into mine as he searched my gaze. The lines on his face faded, replacing that animalistic rage with something still hard, but… But it was hard in the same way certainty was hard. “I would sooner die,” he went on, voice so soft in contrast, it rumbled into my body as much as its sound reached my ears, “or endure iron’s cruel kiss than harm my own wife.”

I stared up at him, catching my breath. His hazel eyes glinted with that same hard certainty.

This was no lie. Not even a half truth designed to hide one.

It was a promise. A vow.

It was the truth—or at least as close as fae got to it.

Suddenly I was all too aware of that hard body covering mine, the way his grip on my wrists had grown loose enough that I could pull free if I wished

If.

And the fact his mouth was only inches from mine.

His breath caught, so perhaps he realised the same thing. Yes, the way his gaze skipped to my lips, trailed over them, making me shiver—he’d definitely realised it. Did hewantto kiss me? And what would I do if he tried?

Earlier, he’d picked those flowers and bound their stem before sliding them into my hair, so there was something gentle in him, despite the fact he could so effortlessly kill with one hand. And his broken nose suggested that violence wasn’t an isolated incident.

But… maybe they were fights that had protected someone else. Fights in service of queen and country, rather than brawls to satisfy his own aggression. Protection, rather than violence.

It was possible.

Beastly, perhaps, but maybe,maybenot a monster.

The knot of his throat bobbed before he pulled back a fraction of an inch. His fingertip trailed the soft inside of my wrist, followed by the light scrape of a claw. “Do you understand?”

I gave the barest nod. “I do.”

“Then don’t insult me again.” With that, his weight shifted like he was going to pull away.

“Faolán,” I blurted, stopping him.

The hard look he gave me almost kept the words in my throat. But he’d shown me something of himself, a different angle, and maybe asking now would encourage him to show a little more.

I swallowed and took a breath that brought my chest against his. “Why are you helping me?”

At these close quarters, I could see his lips thin, despite the thick beard. His body tightened, echoing the clench of his eyebrows as they drew together. Irritated and ready to give me no answer again.

I slipped my wrists from his grasp and clutched the front of his shirt, giving it a shake. “Why save me from the werewolves? Why marry me?Why? I need to know.”

He huffed through his nose, one corner of his mouth rising in a smirk. “It’s no great mystery.” The tip of one sharp canine showed as his smirk widened. He shifted, bringing that hard, muscled body of his flush against me, and bent down until his lips were barely an inch from mine.

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