Page 94 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

“Tamara Blackstone,” he purrs when I reach his table, and my brows jump up. “I had the pleasure of meeting your brother,” he continues. Well, that explains how he knows who I am. I have heard about their freakishly good noses and memory, but experiencing it is something else entirely. He inclines his head, sizing me up, the vertical slits of his pupils and glowing eyes even more unnerving from up close.

“Now, why would a pretty little thing like you approach a dragon?”

Here goes nothing. I take a steadying breath.

“Lorcan.” I incline my head respectfully and hope my smile looks more convincing than it feels. He gestures for me to sit, and I position myself with my back to the wall, even if it means I sit right next to him. “Thank you for your time,” I say, determined to stick to politeness, even if it kills me. Not doing so will kill me for sure.

“What is it?” he asks. It seems like he’s as impatient as the tales say. I look around us, but everyone is out of earshot. Lorcan notices my glances, and I see something glimmer in his eyes. Interest maybe? Curiosity?

Shit, am I really going to do this?

Before I talk myself out of it, I lean on the table, reducing the space between us.

“I need information about cursed ones,” I murmur.

He leans in, scenting my neck. I lock my muscles and make myself stay still even though I want nothing more than to jump away.

“And why would someone like you be looking for information like that?” he asks softly.

It’s a trap. If I lie, I will never get my answers.

He is so close now that I don’t need more than a whisper to reach him. “Because I am one.”

His eyes roam over me. It feels like a caress, so sensual and private that I want to lean back. His voice is a purr.

“I can tell you all about your heritage and your magic,” he says casually.

Yes.

“What do you need?” I try for a neutral tone even though he probably hears my heart pounding out of my chest.

Deep, controlled breaths. Relax.

With a smirk, he rises from his chair. I move without thinking and get up as well. He comes even closer, stepping way too much into my personal space. He wraps a strand of my unbound hair around his hand, tugging me closer, and there is no room to step back.

Maybe putting my back against the wall hadn’t been a good idea. He leans in, scenting my skin again, and I hold my breath.

“I need to taste you,” he tells me, his breath hot against my skin.

I recoil—as far as the wall lets me—and he laughs softly.

“Not so brave now, are you?” He sounds curious. “But you hold yourself better than I thought. I give you that,” he continues, his eyes wandering over me before stopping at my face again. “Body fluids work well…” He does that head tiltagain. A predator assessing his prey. “Blood being the most reliable.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Dragons have a thing for blood? I’ve never heard of that.

“How much blood?” I press out.

“Oh, a scratch will do. Unless…” He licks his lips, and I don’t want to hear what he’ll suggest next.

“A scratch sounds perfect.” My voice sounds too high, even in my own ears.

Hold it together, Ara. Get your answers, and then you can leave.

He laughs. “You sure?” He puts his finger on the pulse throbbing in my throat, and I grit my teeth.

Polite. I need to be polite.

I take a deep breath but release it instantly when I realize how it lessens the space between us.

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