Page 48 of Cursed Shadows 3

Perhaps it’s a truth he doesn’t want to admit, that he is baiting my focus back to him; that he can’t stand that this phase, I look at everyone but him.

Now, in the foyer of Hemlock House, I have little choice but to look at him. I need to glamour him.

I took my time and some more with Aleana’s glamour. Just to avoid this moment—the moment I finally turn to face Daxeel.

Flexing my fingers, I reach out for the smooth sunkissed hue of his face. And I lift my gaze.

I look at him.

His ocean eyes fix on me. They swim beneath the shadows of his lashes.

Just like that, I’m sinking.

Hesitation steals me. I have that horrid sensation that’s not unlike an iron flail thrashing around in my chest.

I swallow back the ache that rises up through me. Steeling myself against the sudden urge to weep, I loosen a steadying breath and make to touch his face. My fingertips inch closer to the soft beige of his cheeks that I know are silk to the touch.

But then, as I make to glamour his fae-ness, I’m stopped in my tracks.

Daxeel does it himself.

My hands still in the air between us, fingertips just a breath’s touch from the smooth caramel tone of his complexion. His pools of deep blue eyes are fixed down on me—and I watch as he alters his own appearance without so much as lifting a finger.

Shapeshifting.

I know of the trait, but I haven’t seen it transfigure before me.

I’m stunned, silent in my amazement as he dims the brilliant shade of his eyes into something muted; the sharpness of his predator teeth blunt into a perfect row of what would make a dazzling smile on a human; the points of his ears soften, the sharpness of his nails flatten; even the kohl of his eyes fade away.

And, still, he makes one striking human, one so handsome that I might have danced with him—but certainly noticed.

Layers of wispy shadows drape over his shoulders. They curl around his arms, sweep into his tousled hair—thenmeltinto him, until they are gone entirely.

I drop my hands to my sides with a faint slap.

Daxeel folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall. His eyes, though muted, are oceans aimed at me. Nothing kind about that gaze.

Still, I can’t fight the heat flaming my cheeks as I look him over, like I’m pretending to search for hints of fae on his appearance, but really I’m drinking him in. From the black sweater he wears, my favourite one with the little razoredthreads and the small hole at the collar, down to the black pants that are looser on the muscles of his legs than his combat trousers or leathers, then a pair of black boots. Plain. A plain fashion for any human, but so entirely enthralling on him.

Enthralled.

I decide that’s what I am.

It’s a fight to tear my gaze from him. But I manage when I hear a familiar snapping sound.

I look over at Aleana.

Hunched on the waiting chair by the door, she picks at the black tights layered over her legs with mild interest. Like stockings, they hide the bruises that mar her skin, but they are the sort of tights that pull up all the way over her backside—and she’s been baffled by them since she found them in one of my trunks, buried deep beneath a fur shawl that’s too crusty to wear.

She wrestled them on almost right away.

It’s not a lie to say it looks as though she dressed herself. The tips I had for her went ignored.

Over the black tights, she has on my favourite glitter skirt, a faint pinkish colour I don’t think suits her black blouse all too well, but she’s taken to it all the same, just as she’s taken to the silver glitter boots. She had to stuff on some socks to fit them, since my size is a tad bigger than hers, but she’s pleased with her human fashions—and intrigued by her human appearance.

I figure that when she abandons the tights, then finds her gaze in the mirror on the wall opposite and starts to assess herself for the dozenth time since I fixed the glamour on her.

She peels back her lips and inspects her blunt teeth; brushes her fingertips along the human curves of her ears; flattens her hands against the warmth of the foyer and studies her translucent nails.

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