Page 51 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
Kind of like the way my mom and her friends continue to have their cocktail tradition.
Of course, Nero used our love of music as propaganda. He forced my Aunt Melody to sing certain songs so he could evoke the mood he required before grandstanding about the so-called Tainted Fae. Tears prickle my eyes, and I shake myself a little.
I have to stop blaming myself for what happened. If I hadn’t been in Crystal City, Queen Maebh would have killed me. Melody would never have met her Well-blessed mate Forrest. Multiple matings afterward wouldn’t have happened either. How can I put my suffering before the love of so many couples? Events were even manipulated so my parents would find each other because of my prophesized birth.
I was kidnapped, alone, and made to murder animals and innocent people, then bring them back to life so they could murder more under my direction. But now I’m here, searching for redemption and my happily ever after. A tugging in my chest lifts my gaze to Bodin. His eyes are closed, his brows pinched, and he sways as he did at the bar.
Concerned, I touch his hand. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He tugs his hand away and resumes a listless search of the crowd, but his eyes have lost the spark they gained when feeding me berries.
I probably look like a mess. I’m sticky, covered in juice, but he seems to like that. A wicked idea forms in my mind.
“Tell me what’s making you frown . . .” I rifle through the fruit and hand him a round, plump berry that smells divine. “. . . and I’ll let you do to my mouth whatever you were fantasizing about earlier.”
The impact of our eyes clashing steals my breath. The intense wave of lust and longing from him nearly bowls me over. It smells spicy, male, and good. He slowly removes the berry from my fingers and inches closer, but I shake my head.
“You go first,” I say.
His arrogant, frustrated growl floods my lower belly with desire. That shouldn’t turn me on, but it reminds me of how he pinned me beneath him after our sparring. The way he dominated me triggered every wolfish instinct in my body.
Stay strong, Willow. He needs to learn to share. How can I help him, how can we bond if he can’t share his worries?
“Bodin?” I press. “If you let me in, maybe I can help.”
He cups the back of his neck, stares at the berry, then rushes out his words, “I keep seeing things in my head. It makes no sense and leaves me ill.”
I glance around to see if anyone is within earshot, but the music is loud enough to cover us. “What do you see?”
“Yellow feathers. Blood. In my trembling hands.”
Cait questioned Legion,Does he know about your canary?
Nero forced me to kill birds and then bring them back to life. At first, I refused. After a while, he threatened to use Rory as the practice subject. That’s how he lured me into my first kill . . . I was trying to protect her.
The death of an innocent, no matter how small, is harrowing.
My lips part to ask more, but he pushes the berry into my mouth. I’m unsure if it’s my surprise clamping down or his trembling fingers squishing, but it bursts. I groan appreciatively. It’s the juiciest one yet. He swears again at his ineptitude, but I laugh as rivulets run down my neck and tickle.
“It’s fine.” I lick around my lips. “It’s just juice.”
“I hope so,” he grumbles, wiping his hands on his shirt. “I don’t recognize this delicacy.”
“It was an accident.” I grip his arms to stop his fussing. “What are you worried about?”
“What if I poisoned you because I—” He bites off his words and frowns at my lips. “I should . . . taste it to see. Maybe.”
“You’re going to poison yourself too?” I laugh too easily.
His mood is anything but amused as he dips and swipes his tongue along my lip. Warm, wet, male. He tastes—oh. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and now he’s kissing me, slow and deep. I am dazed and disoriented when he breaks away.
I chase his lips, but he mutters darkly, “It won’t kill you.”
“What won’t?”
“The berry,” he explains, still close, breath warm on my face. “It’s not going to kill you.”
“You sure?” That was dumb, Willow. Use your words. “Maybe you should check again.”
