Page 45 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

Zylah let his words sink in. In all the books Kara had given her, faeries were always beautiful, flawless, fierce.All High Fae.“And they still exist?”

“Of course they still exist. Is Dalstead a glass box?” Raif rolled his eyes at her.

Arnir had used fear to stop people from discussing the Fae, and it had worked. Dalstead truly was cut off from the rest of the world. “Evidently. What else should I know? About the Fae?” Zylah pushed back her hood to look up at him better, and he winked back in approval.Gods above.He truly was insufferable. A patch of tiny, waxy leaves covered the ground up ahead, and Zylah began gathering the besa leaves into the basket.

“Growing up, I thought all Fae could be split into two groups.” Raif gathered leaves with her as she worked, after a moment of observing her actions.

“I can’t imagine you growing up.” She couldn’t imagine Holt growing up either. Amantias usually grew close to besa plants, a good ingredient to include in healing balms and—ah. Zylah knelt in the dirt before a tree, unsheathing her dagger to cut the springy mushrooms from the bark.

Raif knelt beside her, closer than he might have done had they not kissed the day before. “Adolescence is a very… volatile time, particularly for males.”

“Seven gods, Raif, I don’t need details. The two groups?” She knew if they kept looking, she’d find some jupe, but she wasn’t ready to make poison just yet. Not when she knew so little about the people she was making it for. Some feverroot and celandia could be good though, so she could make a balm for wounds. Oil and wax would be readily available in Virian. With some besa leaves, she could make poultices for infection and fevers. Hopefully, that would be enough for now.

Raif took the mushrooms as she cut them and placed them in the basket beside him. “There are the helpers, and then there are the tricksters—the deceivers.” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke. “We all use deceits—it’s how we hide our ears; conceal things we don’t want others to see. But there are Fae who want nothing more than to trick others at every turn, and those who only want to help.”

She looked up at him. His eyes were bright, and she remembered the darkness she thought she’d seen there after he’d turned his attacker to ash. “No in between?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to decide for yourself. Let me know what you discover.” His fingers brushed hers as he took another mushroom from her, and Zylah rose to her feet, holding his gaze.

“We’re looking for a plant with three leaflets; the centre one is pointed like an arrow.” She cleared her throat, trying not to think about how fast things could have moved yesterday if she’d let them. Words danced on the tip of her tongue as she looked up to see two eyes staring back at her through the bushes. Kopi hadn’t called out in warning.Sprites.Zylah knew they were in the forest, she’d seen them with Holt, well, sort of. They’d been watching then and he’d said they were attracted to his magic; they’d helped him take down that bounty hunter.

The eyes blinked and disappeared as she thought of the way Holt had summoned vines like it was nothing, and again the question of her training spiralled around in her thoughts. She couldn’t have combat training with both of them every day, that was obvious. Maybe it made sense to continue combat training with Holt and to focus on her…abilitieswith Raif.

They moved on through the forest and she soon came across the feverroot and celandia, filling the basket until it was almost overflowing. Raif helped diligently, cutting the plants exactly as she showed him. She stole glances at him as they worked, telling herself it was just to check he was gathering everything correctly.

He caught her gaze and smiled. “How did you learn about all of this?” he asked, flicking his chin at their collection.

My father, she wanted to say. But she didn’t want to think about her father again. Not out here. “I read a lot.” It was half of the truth. There had been a lot she’d taught herself over the years, enough to surprise her father a few times.

“Only books about plants and the Fae?” He offered her a hand as she pushed herself to her feet.

She stared at his hand for a moment before placing hers in it. “No. I read storybooks too.” He’d pulled her close enough that she could feel the heat coming from him, could see the flecks of silver in his eyes, and she willed herself to hold his gaze, to not back down from the challenge that was written across his face. If yesterday was anything to go by, things could get out of hand very quickly… and the thought sent heat racing through her.

Raif took a step closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb tracing her jaw. “What kind of stories? Anything interesting?”

There was barely an inch of space between them now, and his gaze lowered to her mouth as he waited for her answer.

Gods, she was in trouble. Her breath hitched, and she chose her words carefully.

“That,” Zylah swallowed, watching the way his lips pressed together as he waited for her response, “depends on your definition of interesting.”

Raif didn’t reply. His lips were on hers, his tongue sweeping them open. The hand that had been tracing her jaw moments before fisted into her hair and a low, feral sound escaped him that Zylah felt everywhere their bodies touched. Every thought and worry left her head as Raif’s hands grabbed her rear and lifted her, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him.

Her back pressed against a tree trunk as he traced kisses down her neck, his hands warm and strong beneath her tunic.Gods.Zylah’s back arched as his lips traced lower, then slowly, painfully slowly, back up the other side of her jaw. Raif’s shoulders were firm and strong beneath her fingers as she pressed into him, into the thick muscle beneath his shirt. His body was solid and warm against hers, and she wished there wasn’t a scrap of fabric between them.

She resisted the urge to rock against the hard length of him pressing between her thighs, unable to help the moan that escaped her lips as he nipped and sucked at her earlobe, his hands stroking up her sides, fingers teasing lower and back up again. It untethered any leash she might have had on her self-control, her hips moving against him to ease the pressure building between them.

Raif’s mouth was on hers again just as another moan escaped her, and this time when he made that feral sound, she truly did feel iteverywhere. He pulled back, his eyes glazed and his breathing ragged, his hands pressing her to him. “Take us to the safe house,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to her mouth. “So we can continue this somewhere more comfortable.”

“What’s the matter?” Zylah breathed as his lips traced lower again. “Don’t want to get your clothes dirty?”

She felt his laugh in the puff of air against her neck, in the rumble through everywhere his body touched hers, and she squeezed her legs tighter around him. She knew he wouldn’t care about his clothes, but she hadn’t decided how far she wanted this to go.

Zylah put a hand on his chest and he released her, the cold rushing in the moment he put space between them—just the tiniest bit of space. They stared at each other, chests heaving, close enough that they could still share a breath.

“I just thought a bed might be better for what I had in mind.”

“Ah, so now he’s a gentleman?”

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