Page 21 of The Maleficent Faerie
“Do you remember what you said to me last night?” she asks.
Fuck. How much did I confess about my secret needs and longings? “No,” I grit out. “What did I tell you?”
When she speaks again, her voice is smug. “Let’s just say I know more about you than you’d like me to know.”
Heat flares through my body. “Once my magic is refilled, I will pry out all your secrets, viper. And I will enjoy making you writhe.”
I say the last as a breathy growl, and she shivers. Her scent slithers into my nostrils—sweat and blood mingled with a faint sweetness, like fresh apples.
Before I can inhale more deeply, we break out of the forest onto a sloping hill that flows down into a wide plain.
The prisoner and I lead the gallop down the slope into the sprawling meadows below. Despite the wretched disappointment of this morning, the shimmering waves of green grass stir joy in my heart, while the fresh morning wind races over the plain and whispers through my wings, a temptation I can’t resist.
I shift in the saddle, aching to take flight. The movement rubs my lower body against the girl’s ass, and I wince at the answering twitch of my cock. Fuck these unforgivingly tight pants. I should have listened to Fitzell and brought different clothes with me.
I reach down between us and tug at the pants, hoping for a little relief. But Aura reacts with a hissed intake of breath as my knuckles graze her bottom.
“What are you doing?” she snaps.
“Adjusting things.” But it’s no use. I’ve made my arousal worse, not better.
I leap to my feet, balancing on the saddle just behind her. “Be a good little captive,” I say, and then I flare my wings and let the wind carry me up into the sky.
The rush of flight thrills me. Here, far from the corroded Edge of the realm, it is easier to forget about the Void and its eventual triumph. When the wind is pouring over my body, I think less about my past mistakes and my future goals.
When I fly, death doesn’t seem so alluring.
I soar high above my prisoner, my shadow gliding over her like a warning. The horse will continue running in a straight line unless I tell him otherwise, and if she tries to take control, I can swoop down and overcome her in a moment.
Ember and Kyan leap off their horses as well, sailing into the bright morning air with me. Their horses are also trained to stay with the group, and if one swerves aside, catching the steed is an easy matter for us.
We race a little ahead of our group, darting, dodging, weaving our flight-lines together. Kyan’s silver feathers flash, while Ember’s leathery wings glow translucent scarlet whenever he passes between us and one of the suns.
I glance back at my captive, still riding the horse. She hasn’t tried to escape yet. Maybe she realizes it would be pointless. Her wings stand out rigid behind her, a clear sign that she would like to be flying with us. Her face is upturned—she’s watching me.
With a mighty wingbeat I soar higher, into the arch of the clear sky. I tuck my wings and dive, flipping one, two, three, four times before I catch myself and lift out of the dive, banking upward again. Then I plunge once more, streaking far across the plain before turning and racing back toward the oncoming group of riders. I skim over my captive’s head, so close she could reach up and touch me.
And then I spin around and drop into the saddle behind her.
“Impressive,” she says dryly.
“It’s more impressive when I have magic.” I fold my wings again, relishing the clean flush of the fresh air in my lungs. “Sometimes I use the shadows to create patterns across the sky, or to write words.”
“You use Void magic to draw on the sky?” She sounds incredulous. “Is this what you would do with the Princess’s blood? Use it to show off and bolster your ego?”
“Of course not.” Anger sparks in my chest. “Caennith Fae are the ones who waste precious magic on trivialities and parties.”
“We use magic to hold back the Edge.”
“Your Priests and Priestesses do, some of them. But the rest of the Fae—how do they use magic? Why do they not help with the reinforcement of the Edge?”
“Because only the most dedicated worshipers of Eonnula are holy enough to wage war against the Void,” she says. “The rest of us have other tasks.”
How does she not see the foolishness of that system? “Would it not be more effective if all the Fae joined forces against the Void?”
“To what purpose? We don’t need to overcome it, just hold it at bay long enough for the savior to arrive.”
“Ah, the prophecy.” Disdain leaks into my tone despite my best efforts. “What about the villages being consumed by the Edge while you wait for this savior?”
