Page 50 of Immortal Sins
He laughs, his head tilted back, and the joyous sound trickles all over my fiery skin. His beauty shines so bright, I think I might faint. I purr as he picks up the pace. Despite the soreness, the tender flesh between my thighs is still ravenous for the feel of him.
His hold on my wrists hardens. “Then at least let him hear you scream.”
20
ELISHEBA
Nestled in Cole’s arm, I stir awake. A suffocating breeze creeps up my legs, and my skin tingles with the feverish bite of impending danger. My eyes snap open in time to see a blue-tinged spear descend upon me.
I jerk upward, but Cole’s weight prevents me from moving.
The pointy end of the spear presses between my lover’s shoulder blades. An armored Fae warrior maneuvers the pole. His yellow chainmail gleams in the sunlight.
“Philandering and murder. Is that really what I taught you, boy?” The salt-and-pepper hair of the massive Fae flies around his head, the thick strands obscuring the sky. Deep cracks stretch the corners of his clouded eyes. “You could never keep your head straight with a pretty girl present.”
Cole turns to face our attacker, and his hands fly up in surrender.
A heavy shroud of magic presses on my shoulders, my arms, my face.
“Get off her.” The Fae gestures for Cole to move to the side.
My prince rolls off me without a sound and crouches with his hands held up in a halting motion, the way you approach a roaring dragon.
The resemblance strikes me then. The masculine, angular cheekbones of the two men follow the same curve, and their proud noses are almost identical. A pout twists both their mouths with an air of snobbery and lassitude. The few words uttered by the stranger were enough to convince me that they know each other, but he’s clearly family. Definitely not a random dude hunting for reckless newlyweds.
Sweat drips down my neck, and flames lick my chest at how exposed I am. The fire creates a painful shield between me and the man’s stare. Scanning the intruder from head to toe, I search for the best way to disarm him. Family or not, he shouldn’t threaten us with blunt weapons.
Infernal magic tickles the inside of my palms. “Who are you?”
“Silence.” The stranger nicks Cole’s neck with the edge of the blade.
I open my mouth, and my tongue moves, but no sound comes out. Lips stuck in a perfect “o,” I grab my throat. My arms and legs grow heavy, as if severed from the rest of my body—thankfully only metaphorically.
Gods! Does every rabid lunatic in Faerie possess his own Jules off-switch?
The man is Cole’s relative, but not the King. I would know if the King of Faerie stood in front of me.
“Did you kill Elisheba Eillis?” The ancient name rolls off the warrior’s tongue in a rich, multifaceted accent.
Beth… I guess she didn’t always go by that name.
Cole holds his gaze. “Yes.”
My jaw slacks, the adrenaline spikes in my blood, and my lips move faster and faster, trying to rectify the story, but I’m mute and helpless.
The Fae’s lids flutter, his back hunched at Cole’s answer. A short, painful sigh wheezes out of his tight mouth. “Why?”
Cole wraps his hand around the pole of the spear, right behind the sharp head, and sinks it a little deeper inside his skin. “Angel dust.”
The shaft trembles in the old Fae’s hand. “Ennarrii ttou eschne.”
“Eschne meerth.” His eyes are feral, almost daring his opponent to slice his head off—or better yet, calling his bluff.
With a grunt, the warrior staggers backward. The lethal obscurion finally retreats from my lover’s neck.
He points to me and says, “Fenet oust karinina?”
Cole stands. “A witch.”
