Page 202 of Flirting with Darkness

And good gods, I wanted him. Not just sex, buthim. His protective instinct. His vulnerability. Even his grumpy gruffness and that “Hmm” that was the most infuriating answer to any question but had somehow become one of my favourite sounds in the world.

Wild Hunt take me, because I was well and truly lost.

A tragic story waiting to happen.

Except Ari and Ly had no tragedy. Maybe human and fae didn’t automatically mean that.

I pulled him to a stop and placed a hand over his chest, covering a pair of circling wolves. His heart thundered under my palm, as fast as mine, a pounding accompaniment to the music’s solid rhythm. “Faolán.” It was all I knew how to say, but it didn’t convey what I needed to. My tongue was clumsy, my head too foolish for words, my heart too loud to allow my voice box to work. All I could do was stare up at his hazel eyes, breaths heaving, silently asking.

Maybe he felt the same, because he said my name in return and cupped my cheek. His touch was such a relief, I sagged against it with a voiceless sigh.

I burned to hear him say it again. I would’ve scorched myself to ashes to hear him cry it out as he came. It wasn’t even down to the party going on around us—it was something I’d wanted for a long while now.

His fingertips stroked the sensitive skin behind my ear, making me shiver as his gaze trailed over my face like he was trying to decipher something.

“My love, my little flower,” he said at last, dropping my hand and cupping my other cheek. The pad of his thumb skimmed my lower lip, a tease that I felt in every inch of my body.

I stepped in and tilted my head back, tugging on his waistband with my newly freed hand.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he understood my silent demand and bent low enough to kiss me. But he didn’t. He stopped a finger’s breadth away.

“Rose.” His voice was low, but somehow blotted out all the cries in the courtyard. Or maybe it was just the power of him saying my name. Even if it wasn’t my True Name, it had a hold over me—at least, when he used it, it did. “I asked you before. I called in our bargain. You said you didn’t know. Now I’m asking again. What do you want?”

I hadn’t known before. But now? There were too many answers.

“I want to train.” I left out thewith youpart. That felt too raw, too vulnerable for a starting point. “I want to be strong enough and fast enough to fight and be useful and be taken seriously and protect others.” That was what my wish to join Briarbridge’s guard had been about. “I want to be more than a baker. More than someone else’s helper. I want to be someone who’s respected.” I’d never thought it before that moment, but as the words came out of my mouth, I knew them to be true.

I trembled at that. At the things I didn’t know about myself—hadn’t until coming here, until having space and time, until beingasked.

He remained silent, watching me. He didn’t look disappointed by my answers and the fact they hadn’t included him.

But I wasn’t done yet.

My tongue worked around my mouth as I dragged in breaths, voice not knowing where to go next.

“I wanted Ari to be safe and happy… and sheis. And… and I want that. I want to be loved like that. I want a home. It doesn’t have to be somewhere like this”—I shrugged to indicate the mansion we’d been living in for the best part of a month—“just somewhere that is… mine.” I almost saidours. “Somewhere that is ahome. Whether that’s a cottage or a tent, I don’t care.”

The corner of his mouth flickered at that, and I pressed my hands more firmly against his chest. I could’ve sworn his heart thudded a little harder at my last comment.

“I want a hobby. And time to do it.” I huffed out a breath, almost laughing. Again, I never knew I wanted that before, but here we were. “I don’t knowwhathobby, but isn’t looking for one half the fun?”

He nodded in silence, fingers easing back into my hair, tracing delicious lines across my scalp.

“And…” I dragged in a breath, not sure how to say it.

But really, wasn’t it simple?

I wanted him.

But that was too raw an admission. Too dangerous.

Maybe it wasn’t his heart hammering, threatening to drown out all other sound, but mine. Still, I had to swallow and go on, because apparently now I’d started wanting, I had a long, long list.

“I want to hear you cry out my name as you come apart.” My cheeks heated to admit what I’d thought when he’d said my name moments ago. “Ireallywant to know what that sounds like. I want to feel you inside me, again. I want to be held by you. And I don’t want these things because of someone else’s fae charm or because of a dream or because we’re surrounded by people fucking, but because ofyou. I’ve wanted you for days, weeks now, however much I’ve tried to stamp down that feeling.

“And I want thingsforyou, too.” My eyes stung as I said it, as my fingertips found one of the smooth, silvery scars that criss-crossed his body. “I want you to be happy. I want you to never be told you’re a dirty dog or looked down upon or made to feel you’re less than.”

He shifted, weight slanting to his heels, but I grabbed his bearded cheeks and held him in place. Maybe he didn’t want me, maybe he just wanted sex, that wasn’t important right now, but this was.

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