Page 48 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
Bubbles spill over the rim, and the scent of honey and cinnamon set ablaze drags my thoughts down the gutter. I’m toofragile to ingest the most potent aphrodisiac in existence, but I’m also incredibly thirsty for it.
“Cheers.” The softclinkof our glasses shivers through me. “That was quite a performance. I’m impressed.”
The cocktail is slick and warm, enough to scorch my insides.
Seth’s gaze lingers on my lips. “I bet you’d like to pretend there’s nothing more between us than a performance.” His gaze dips down to my stomach, his hands heavy on my waist. “But I can smell your arousal from here, witch. I bet your sweet heat throbs at the mere thought of my cock. Because I’d know exactly how to fuck you to make you scream, myqueen,” he says with an affable smile, as though we’re having a perfectly innocent discussion on the fringes of the dance floor.
I blink, shaken by the molten wave of lust gripping my gut, and take another sip of wine. “You surprise me, pretty boy. I thought you were more of a gentleman.”
He presses a hot kiss at the junction between my ear and neck. “You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I were.”
My lids flutter. The High Fae on the outskirts of the dance floor are all watching—pointing, whispering. I can’t lose my head now.
I twist my hands in Seth’s hair, nails sinking into his scalp, and swallow his next breath with an end-all kiss. It’s the appropriate reward for his chivalrous rescue, but each time our tongues meet, my high wavers. Why does it feel like I’m losing this game?
The rush of humiliating Freya so thoroughly, so publicly, after dreaming of it for years… I should be flying. Instead, I’m unraveling.
Because as much as I enjoyed seeing her squirm, I’ve exposed myself as nothing more than a glittering jewel on her son’s arm. As though I’ve fallen for him, as though Ibelongto him. That’s the price of arranged marriages. Never mind that theengagement makes political sense. Never mind that Seth has fallen under my spell. The woman is the one seen as less-than.
What if the attack was planned, somehow? A ploy to win my trust? Even to me, it sounds like a stretch.
The trouble is, ploy or not, I’ve never wanted to jump his bones more. I’d give anything to be indifferent to him, to shrug off his gaze, his games, the flames he stokes in me, but alas…
Every fiber of my being still aches from the way he kissed me like I was already his. I want to strip him of his ambiguous smiles, his clever quips, and the nonchalance he wears like a crown. His clothes, too. I want to peel them off slowly, until there’s nothing left between us but skin, hunger, and the knowledge that I’m the one in control.
Seth groans into the kiss, the ridge of his erection digging into my stomach, and I finally pull away.
Most of the High Fae are staring now, and I don’t shy away from their fascination. Their tongues dart out to wet their rosy lips, blushes creeping along many of their cheeks. A Winter Fae’s throat bobs with a quick, uneven swallow, just as her companion’s fists clench at his sides. Sex is on their minds, curiosity hanging on their breaths, envy coiling in their bodies.
I’m Devi Eros. Every one of them is picturing themselves in Seth’s place, women included. They all want to know what it’s like.
Seth strokes my back, his callused thumb slipping under the material of my dress. My spine feels like a fuse, channeling heat deep and low, but the insidious caress stops abruptly.
“Uh-uh. Party’s over,” Seth warns.
I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Damian Sombra and Ethan Lightbringer entering together through the ballroom’s main entrance, and the sight stops me cold.
I’d heard rumors that the Shadow King was back to his full power, but seeing him whole makes my heart bleed with joy andregret all at once. By Eros… His bite of power ripples across the room, shadows licking his sculpted shoulders, his black hooded tunic lacerated in various spots and revealing the tanned skin underneath.
Next to him, Ethan slicks his long platinum blonde hair behind his pointy ears, looking more disheveled than usual. His white waistcoat is freckled with dark, oily blood.
A bitter tang fills my mouth at the sight of him, and my core muscles cramp in disgust. Every inch of him turns my stomach, from his long, imperious nose, to the hollows of his cheeks and the arrogant cut of his jaw. Ethan Lightbringer's beauty is a menace, a thing of too-perfect angles and too-quiet calm. But it’s the cruelty in his ice-blue eyes that gives him away. Anyone staring into those eyes can plainly see that the light inside him burned through and left nothing behind.
The vicious man I abhor above all others—the monster who raped my mother.
Every time I see him, I dream up new ways to kill him. Some quick and clean. Most slow and messy. Yet somehow, he’s still walking around like a nightmare stitched into fine clothes.
The dancers all pause, and the royals gather closer, Seth ushering me forward, too. The signature smirk Ethan wears in public disappears when he spots me, and a glint of anger burns in his gaze.
“We should find a quiet place to talk,” Damian announces, the low pitch of his voice echoing deep in my belly.
Elio nods, forced to play referee despite his own grievances. “Cousins, I prepared my private library so we can discuss things further between us.” He doesn’t want any political incident to derail this summit, but it must cost him a lot to keep a level head when Ethan is near. “Come with us, Seth,” he adds quickly.
The prince narrows his eyes. “Me?”
“Yes. Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a moment. I need a word with Devi first,” Elio says, waving for Seth to leave without him. The Winter King’s chest heaves, and he leans in, his posture almost menacing, though his voice remains perfectly amiable. “Lori told me you could feel Iris’s soul inside her,” he whispers.
To anyone but us, it must look like he’s scolding me for the scene I just caused.
