Page 52 of Cursed Dreams
The moment they stepped back out into the corridor, Thalia crossed her arms and shot him a glare. “So, tell me, Vaelith, do you see the temple and the women in it as your own personal all-you-can-sleep-with buffet?”
Vaelith stopped mid-step.
Then, to her complete and utter horror, he threw his head back and laughed.
A full, rich, thoroughly amused laugh, one that echoed off the walls and made her face burn.
When he finally recovered, his silver eyes gleamed with wicked delight as he leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice.
“Your tongue is sharp tonight, little healer,” he mused. “Careful who you use it on.”
Thalia’s face burned hotter, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was from anger
The last of Vaelith’s laughter still lingered in the air as he gave her a sideways glance, amusement twinkling in those sharp silver eyes. “So,” he said, his tone casual but edged with something knowing, “How are you settling into your new role at the temple? Are they working you hard enough, or should I suggest they push you further?”
Thalia huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m excelling, actually. Not that it’s any of your concern.”
His smirk deepened. “Oh, I disagree. I’m quite invested in your progress.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, highly suspicious. “Why?”
Vaelith tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Maybe because I was the one who assessed your magic, or maybe because you seemed to rather enjoy my… attention.”
Heat flooded her face.
“That was the faerie wine’s fault!” she hissed.
His laugh was deep, thoroughly entertained, and far too pleased with himself. “Was it?” He leaned in just enough for his breath to graze her cheek. “Because I seem to remember you matching me kiss for kiss.”
Thalia practically combusted. “You! I! That doesn’t count!”
“Oh, it counts.” His smirk was wicked, unapologetic. “And if you ever feel like a repeat performance, all you have to do is ask.”
Thalia’s brain short-circuited.
Unfortunately, so did her feet.
One second, she was sputtering, trying to form a single coherent response, and the next, she was tripping over nothing, her arms flailing wildly as she went down.
Vaelith sighed, catching her effortlessly before she hit the ground.
“Clumsy tonight, aren’t we?” he murmured, his hands firm around her waist, keeping her stupidly close.
Thalia swallowed, willing herself to breathe as his body heat radiated through her robes. He smelled too good, his grip wastoo steady, and she was far too aware of every solid, muscular inch of him.
She shoved him away. “I tripped because you..because you!” She flailed uselessly for an explanation.
His smirk only deepened. “Because I what?”
Thalia refused to answer. Instead, she bent down to grab her fallen satchel, hastily shoving her spilled belongings back inside. Before she could reach for the last book, Vaelith beat her to it.
Vaelith’s sharp silver eyes flicked over the title of the book in his hands.
High Fae Diseases and Poisons.
His expression shifted slightly, just a flicker of something unreadable, but enough to make her stomach twist.
He flipped lazily through the pages, his long fingers trailing over the faded parchment. "What exactly are you researching?" His voice was smooth, but there was something beneath it, something too carefully measured.
