Page 49 of The Maleficent Faerie
She whimpers, but she doesn’t wake.
“Little viper,” I murmur, bending over her, laying my palm on her forehead.
Her eyes snap open. She lunges, catching my forearm with both hands and sinking her jaws into my wrist. Her small teeth punch through the skin.
“Damn it!” I shake her off, and she scrambles to the head of the bed, crouching there, wild-eyed.
I should have known she’d react like this. She was trained as a fighter her whole life, taught to expect attacks at any moment and return them with violence.
She was designed to be her own bodyguard. Concealed beneath a different racial identity, inhabited by the magic of three other beings, fragmented by their power. I will never understand the twisted logic that led her parents to risk her mental and emotional health for her physical safety. Perhaps they thought, being the future Conduit, she could handle it. Perhaps her mental state would have been worse if she hadn’t been the God-Touched heir.
Or perhaps her parents didn’t truly understand the risk to her psyche. Maybe the greater fault lies with the Three Faeries, for sinking their claws so deeply into a child’s body and mind, for not considering that perhaps visceral glamours are forbidden for good reason. The three of them are so secure in themselves, so full of hubris.
I have my own blind spots, my own kind of pride. They damaged Aura, but I hurt her too. And worse still, I intend to stick to my plan and use the Princess for my great magical work.
I deserve all the pain she wants to inflict on me.
“Easy, little viper.” I reach toward her again, my torn wrist dripping blood on the sheets.
“Don’t touch me!” Her voice shrills with panic and revulsion.
“You were dreaming,” I persist gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I dreamed you ripped my wings off,” she chokes out. “And then you—you fucked the holes where they used to be.”
Horror sends a chill over my skin. “I would never do that to you.”
She scoops up a pillow and pulls it to her chest, still eyeing me warily. “But we did fuck. That was real.”
“Yes. You came on my face, and then again on my dick. You had all the control, Princess. You made the choices.”
She nods, her expression softening. “Yes. I remember—it was good. I forgot everything for a little while. But my wings are gone for good. That much is true. I’ll never fly again.”
My heart swells, expanding, yearning. I struggle to keep my distance, to refrain from reaching for her. All I want is to pull her close, fold my arms and wings around her, and keep her safe. I want to soothe her sore heart with kisses. I want her to feel protected and loved and strong and whole.
The emotion welling up in my chest is the most powerful thing I have felt in years—maybe ever.
Aura hugs the pillow tighter, her eyes widening. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like—” I clear my throat and attempt to neutralize my expression. “Like what?”
“Like you—” She hesitates, biting her bottom lip. “Like you want to hug me.”
“Maybe I do.”
“You’re my worst enemy.”
I make a wry face. “What’s a little hug between enemies?”
She stares, and then her mouth twitches, her eyes brightening. It’s an almost-smile.
“And who says you can never fly again?” I smile at her. “I’ll take you flying right now, if you like.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Serious as the Void.”
“It’s the middle of the night. It’s probably cold, and you’ve only got those.” She nods to the pair of black undershorts I’m wearing.
