Page 98 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“Morrigan. Morrigan Quinn, Your Highness,” she does a quick curtsy, a bright flush rising to her cheeks, clearly enamoured with the tall, dark, and broody Fae.
“Damian’s not a prince, Rye. Not even close,” Elio corrects her.
“But I will be king,” Damian adds with a wink. “Someday.”
Rye smiles at his confidence. “Then I shall serve you faithfully.”
“You’re a Shadow seed?” Damian asks.
“Yes. I wield both blood and shadow magic, but the former is not a path open to mortals these days. I’m glad of it, if it means I get to haveyouas my king.” She rakes her eyes across his body.
Damian clears his throat in an awkward fashion, clearly unsure how to deal with the teenager’s brazenness. “Then we’ll meet again when you’re of age, I’m sure.”
Aidan’s hot hand lands on my shoulder, erasing everyone else from view. “A dance, fellow kindred? It’s customary for us to open the ball tomorrow. We should practice,” he says loudly enough for everyone in a ten feet radius to hear.
I can’t possibly. Not now, and not tomorrow.
But he made it so I couldn’t say no, and I give him a stiff nod, letting him guide me to the dance floor.
The pressure of his hand on the small of my back is a little heavier than necessary, as though he means to erase Zeke’s handprint there.
“I’ve missed you bitterly, Songbird. Especially tonight.”
“Brittany’s nice,” I say quickly, trying and failing to conceal my annoyance.
Aidan sets the pace of the slow, languorous dance, and the union of our hands shivers through me. “My father wouldn’t let me come by myself. I had to improvise.”
“You improvised a tall, buxom blonde, huh?”
The dance is easy and yet elegant, crushing us together then apart.1, 2, 3, 4 step forward and pivot, 5, 6, 7, 8, step back and he gives chase.The story of our lives.
His gaze softens. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
My mouth hangs open at his guile. “I’mnotjealous.”
“Yes, you are, but don’t be. Brittany is my cousin.”
I barely catch a bright smile from surfacing at the news, but my relief is short lived.
Aidan molds his body to mine, his congenial tone faltering, replaced by the hushed, intense tone of the man who made love to me for hours on end. He grips the curve of my hip. “I can’t stop thinking of you. Your skin… your lips… I’m a ghost without you. One night was never going to be enough.” He leans in way too close for it to be proper, his nose ghosting along the shell of my ear. “Did you get my letters?”
I draw back a few inches, missing a step, and my hand shakes along his shoulder blade. “I did.”
He squeezes my fingers. “Why didn’t you write back?”
“I know how this works, Aidan,” I reply, my voice tinged with more bitterness than I intended. “Soon, your turn will come, and you’ll marry the person your parents have chosen for you, just like Willow.”
“What’s going on? You haven’t held my gaze since you arrived.”
“We said one night. I don’t see why we would torture ourselves further with someflingwhen nothing can come of it.”
He presses his lips to my ear. “Don’t give me that. I’m not going to let you dismiss this, not after the night we had. It’s real between us, Beth.” He aces our fingers, and the motion tugs and tears at my wild, throbbing heart. “Iloveyou.”
“Careful. People will see.”
“No one’s looking.”
I quickly scan the crowd. “Ezra’s looking.”
