Page 62 of Cursed Shadows 3

Aleana cuts her off, “The humans know?”

Bee shakes her head. A mousy thread of hair falls into her almost sickly pale face, like she hasn’t basked in the sun for many months. “The humans at Ceol don’t know about the fae. But the owners are litalves—so please, for my sake, behave. My ass is on the line if you fuck up.”

Sitting opposite her, Dare doesn’t hide how obvious is unfaltering stare is… Hisgoldenstare.

It reminds me to touch up the glamours in the kar before we arrive at the bar.

Daxeel doesn’t need a touch up, but once I hesitate on reaching for him sitting across from me, he finally gets what he wants. My gaze.

I look at him.

The power of his ocean stare is a punch to the gut. So much force behind his hunger for me, I forget all about Dare and the kinta, about everyone else in this kar, and only we exist.

For a long while, our gazes are locked; our breaths sync, steady and gentle; and he melts into me as deeply as I to him.

A warm sensation trickles through my insides. It soothes the ache in my chest, and I don’t know if it’s my emotion or his. All the same, I soak in it, swim in the dangerous blues of his eyes and hear only my own heartbeats for the rest of the ride.

Everything else fades away.

I love you.

I want to breathe those words that spiral through me. But I bite my tongue and drop my gaze.

I look down at the loose black threads of his sweater, the whispers of bronzed skin behind the material. The urge to reach out and brush my fingertips over the smooth, tight flesh of his chest—

The kar jolts to a stop.

It’s sudden enough that I slip off my seat—and Daxeel moves for me.

His hands steal my waist.

My breath hitches at the touch.

Then I pull back, out of his grip, as the grating sound of the door opening floods the cabin.

I scramble out after the others.

Daxeel doesn’t let me get away. Not that easily.

He is fast out the kar behind me.

Stealing my wrist in his, he keeps me close as Bee leads us to a set of parted doors. A rope blocks our path, but she flashes a smile at the bulky male guarding the door.

One look at him, and I am certain he is a glamoured litalf; it’s in the way his orange hair keeps a blood-red hue and the blues of his eyes flicker lilac every other second.

He spares a smile on Bee before he unhooks the rope.

A ripple of annoyance spreads through a long row of humans that reaches down the side of the blue-faced building. I spare them a mere glance, hearing the cursed words murmured under breaths, the sighs of exasperation, then follow the others inside.

Through the doors, a sudden muted sensation presses against my ears like the weight of bathwater when I submerge myself too long.

A female—a dokkalf, by the sharp points of all her teeth—sits behind a desk with a money box and a row of coats and bags behind her. The impish grin she offers us is less of a welcome and more of a threat.

Bee pays her no mind, just passes her by, headed for the heavy, crystallised door on the other side of the foyer.

Dare uncorks a small phial before handing it to Aleana.

I recognize the tonic as she brings it to her lips, then downs it all in one gulp.

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