Page 42 of Immortal Sins
I rub the fresh ink swirl.
Flynn drags his feet toward the entrance of the chapel. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“It’s done?” I ask, surprised that the ritual would end so abruptly.
With one last, long look, he adds, “No, but you’ll be happy that I didn’t stick around until the end.” A deep part of me feels his jealousy, his envy. It trickles down my skin like poisonous wine.
Cole caresses the bare plane of my lower back.
My ribcage expands painfully, tight and warm. “This is nothing like the weddings I’m used to.”
He presses me to him. “Welcome to Faerie. Most weddings involve a lot of consummation, and a healthy dose of voyeurism.”
“Let’s concentrate on the first part.” I glimpse at the ceiling of the earthy chapel.
He grabs my chin between his index and thumb and forces me to meet his gaze. “Don’t be so nervous. We’ve done this before.”
“Only once.”
A wicked grin stretches his full lips. “Only one night.” Cole pulls on one end of the bow behind my neck. The Faerie dress tumbles along my legs and hits the ground with aswish. I’m wearing nothing underneath. Mary assured me it was customary, but Cole’s eyes widen.
He picks me up, and I wrap my thighs tightly around him as he walks right into the clear pool of liquid, the magic water not hurting him as it did Flynn.
He deposits me on the obsidian altar like fine jewelry on a velvet pillow. A jewel he wants to fuck.
“You’re mine, at last,” Cole groans, soft and yet totalitarian—a general who won the only war that was ever worth fighting.
“You do not own me,” I repeat, but my voice is soft and teasing.
Cole presses his nose to mine. “But you own me. You’ve owned me since that day in the library, when you let me read the curse written across your back.”
I’m shattered to learn this. “Then why were you such a jackass?”
His lips quirk. “I’m a Fae prince.”
“For you, that explains everything away, doesn’t it?”
“Always.”
His bright smile melts my heart, and I don’t care about the semantics anymore. Arms still linked behind his neck, I dive in for a kiss. The altar is not quite wide enough for me to lie down. Its uneven shape offers a bit of support to my lower back, and it’s at the exact right height for my thighs to rest comfortably around Cole’s midriff.
With one hand, he unbuttons his medieval jacket.
Whispers chime along the stony walls, and the lanterns flicker. The rock below my ass pulses to life.
I cower closer to Cole. He warned me that the spell might get a little weird. Unwanted, incorporeal guests apparently crash all royal Fae weddings.
Magic presses on my shoulders, and the tremble in my bones alerts me to the presence of a dark, powerful energy.
“I got you, Fire Girl. Don’t be afraid.” A small area next to his collarbone blurs. Finger-shaped grooves ply his skin—almost like a helping hand. The jacket—and pants—dissolve into smoke.
Unintelligible voices stir the air next to my ear, but my eyes find nothing but shadows.A healthy dose of voyeurism…the statement wasn’t restricted to Flynn.
Ghosts—spirits—whatever they are…we’re not alone.
“They are harmless,” Cole adds as though he read my thoughts.
Sinister snickers echo through the chapel. Our incorporeal hosts disagree, and I sink my nails into Cole’s neck, unsure I can follow through.
