Page 74 of A Court of Sugar and Spice
He rests his forehead against mine. “I thought the scent of you was the only thing compelling me—luring me to obsess over you. But your scent is concealed from me now, and I still have these feelings—this inner dread at the thought of losing you, this ache, even when you’re near me, because you’re not close enough, because I need you—not your body, not only that, but more. I—I admire you, Louisa. I admire your confidence, your keen mind, your beautiful enthusiasm for everything, your courage in crisis. I long to be like you. I wish I could lose myself entirely in you.”
His mouth presses to my forehead, a hot seal of yearning.
“You want more than just my body.” I feel as if my mind is stuck, gears locked in place over that concept.
Men don’t want more than my body. Sometimes theythinkthey do, after sex, and then later they change their minds. And I pretend not to notice, or care.
“Yes, I want so much more.” He plants another burning kiss, this time on my cheek. “I know I tried to frighten you about life in Faerie—I wanted you to leave, because then I might get some relief from this agony. I told you if you stayed, your life would be cut short. I can’t promise that won’t be true, but I can promise to stand between you and every danger if you’ll stay, if you’ll only let me hold you once in a while, and if you—if you will stroke my hair sometimes, like you did tonight.”
“What are you saying?” My voice is faint and ragged.
“My heart chose you the moment your blood touched me, the moment I sprang to life in your hands. I fought against it—stars, I fought so hard. My head kept telling me you were a foolish choice, ill-suited for life at my side, as Queen. But you have proven me wrong, so many times.Iam the ill-suited one. You—you are incredible. You are my Chosen.”
I can’t bear his fervency anymore. I turn my face away, biting my lip. “This isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to fuck you.”
Not to love you.
At my cruel words, he stills instantly—the stillness of a clockwork toy whose key stops turning, momentum arrested, life gone.
I can’t bear to meet his eyes.
I pull my cloak and tunic farther off my shoulder, baring my skin to him. “You need to drink, and quickly. We have a long way to go.”
A long pause, while I grit my teeth and try not to cry.
At last his mouth descends, the familiar puncture of the bite distracting me for a moment. Only for a moment, because with every sucking pull of my blood into his mouth, I hear another phrase from the confession he spoke to me.
My heart chose you the moment your blood touched me.
I can promise to stand between you and every danger if you’ll stay.
I fought against it—stars, I fought so hard.
This ache, even when you’re near me, because you’re not close enough.
I wish I could lose myself entirely in you.
I play it out in my head—the future I could have with him. A life in Faerie, in this eerie, beautiful, wild land. I picture myself seated on a throne, hearing endless grievances, or getting distracted and bored during meetings of state. As his Chosen I would be bound to him, only him, forever. No secret dalliances, no forbidden trysts.
Is that what I want?
How long have I been thinking about it? How long has he been drinking from me? I’m beginning to feel faint.
“Lir, stop,” I murmur.
He keeps drinking.
“Lir, enough now. Let me go.” I push against him, but he only growls and nuzzles deeper into my neck, gulping more blood.
“Lir.” Tears mingle with the panic in my voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, not in this form. You won’t be able to heal if I do. Don’t make me hurt you, please—please stop.”
I’m sobbing now, beating at his cheek, but he’s insensible, captive to the charm of my blood.
With one hand I grip the hilt of the dagger at my waist and draw it from the sheath. I set the tip of the blade against his ribs.
My whole body is shaking, a horrible weakness spreading through my limbs. My heart slows, weary and heavy. Then it stutters.
“Lir,” I say. “You have to stop. You’re killing me. You’re killing me, Lir. You’re killing your Chosen.”
