Page 19 of When the Wicked Sing
As dawn started to creep through the trees, she summoned her magic to shield her from the sun. The light chased the shadows away from the male’s face, and Mariana stilled.
Beneath thick black brows were striking emerald eyes. She could even see flecks of copper deep within the iris. They reminded her of a hidden enchanted forest filled with secrets, and perhaps the monster that plagued his nightmares and caused the dark circles beneath.
Wait …Mariana blinked as realization flooded her mind. His skin … it was the color of stone. She thought the darkness was playing tricks on her, but she could now see the truth. The fae race had been created in the image of mortals with similar skin tones. But this man’s skin was different. Astra used to bring orbs up from the Athenaeum to show her the images of fae and the fae realm stored within. This male’s skin looked nothing like what she had seen in those images. Some creatures, like sirens, could mate with fae and produce colorful fae offspring. Still, society often considered them outcasts as they were nottrue fae. With those prejudices in mind, she wondered how the king employed someone like him.
“Who are you?” she asked in bewilderment.
His mouth tightened, and his eyes narrowed.
“No one,” he grunted, lifting her to her feet.
“You’re—” Her words were cut off as he snatched up his dagger and sheathed it, his movements swift and practiced.
“I’m done talking. Now, let’s go.” He bound her wrists again, leaving her ankles free this time. He ran a hand over his short black hair, brushing off dried leaves. The remnants of their fight.
He peered down at where he held her wrists. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”
“No.” She was, a little, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “I haven’t been on land this long before. Your kind has no ideahow painful gravity is to someone who lives in the sea,” she spat back at him.
The fae male glared down at her, but she refused to feel small as she shot daggers right back, hoping they pierced his soul.
“The solution to that is simple,” he stated as he lifted a small glass bottle from a pouch secured on his waist.
Mariana leaned in close to his face. “Irefuseto be drugged again. Just try. You’ll regret it.”
He shook his head, slipping the bottle back into his pouch. Without another word, he swept her up into his arms. She protested at first, but as the tension left her muscles, she realized how much she needed the relief.
“Trust me not to murder you now?” His voice was tinged with sarcasm, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. She was too tired, her muscles too sore to argue.
The fae frowned, his steps light and cautious as he carried her through the forest, as if fearing to wake a sleeping giant. His eyes remained alert, scanning the trees and foliage for anything that might pose a threat.
“I don’t trust you at all,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on the path ahead.
“Then, why aren’t you fighting me?”
“Because I will defeat you,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “And when I do”—she turned her steely gaze toward him—“you’ll never see daylight again.”
A brief silence hung between them before he spoke again, his tone maddeningly calm. “Even if you manage to beat me, you won’t escape me, siren.”
Mariana scoffed. “What makes you so sure?”
He smirked, staring straight ahead. “I know your scent.”
She stilled, a shiver running down her spine. Their eyes locked, and she could see the certainty in his gaze, the confidence that unnerved her more than anything else.
“There’s no hiding from me. Even in the sea.”
Mariana swallowed hard, her nerves tightening as she stared at the hand gripping her knees, holding her securely against him.
Their eyes caught, and her breath stilled.
“Fresh flowers and sea salt,” he murmured.
She couldn’t stop the way her heart stuttered in her chest. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing on the path ahead.
“Can all fae track scents?” she asked, worried that she had underestimated the fae.
“No.”
