Page 23 of Cursed Evermore
The cowl of his dark cloak was thick and embossed with strange, curling patterns. It shadowed his features without fully covering the sharp angles of his face or the raven-black hair that tumbled in long, roguish waves down his broad shoulders.
A spark of something carnal darkened his gaze. Only then did I realize I’d been staring at him this whole time.
I knew it was incredibly rude, and I must have looked like a dazed fool who’d been enchanted by some whacked-up spell. And yet… I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
But the handsome stranger had been staring at me, too.
When his eyes roamed down my body in a purely scandalous way that left no need to question what he was thinking, shamefully sinful thoughts entered my mind.
Those unusual-colored eyes lingered on my breasts for far too long, and a flush of heat coated my thighs. Moisture beaded embarrassingly between my legs and the fire I previously felt beneath my skin spread all over me as if someone dowsed me with oil and lit me up with lava.
Raw desire I shouldn’t be feeling for astrangercoursed through me. It forced my mind to imagine what it would be like to be taken by a man like him.
I thought he would be strong and wild and possessive. Not that my virgin body would know. He just looked the type. Like a man who wouldn’t just claim his woman. He’d own her and make sure she knew she belonged to him.
What would it feel like to belong to such a man?
As if he was aware of the immoral effect he’d created in my mind and body, his gaze intensified, becoming…fascinated.
It made me wonder if we’d met before. Had we met, and I didn’t remember?
Curse the damn curse if that were true. Because despite whatever I told myself, I knew deep down that this was the kind of guy I would have liked to remember.
Before I blinked, the fascination in his eyes changed into something else. Something more serious and sinister. As if he’d righted his mind and was now trying to figure me out.
He cocked his head, his eyes never leaving mine, but the motion shifted the cowl of his hood enough for me to see his ears.
Hispointedears. Pointed like… theFae?
No way. Surely, I was imagining things.
But… as I took in the subtle but sharp points of his ears that everyone associated with faeries, I knew I couldn’t be seeing things.
HewasFae.
My heart slammed against my ribs, each violent thud echoing in my throat, choking me. The room tilted sideways as my blood turned to ice water and a sheen of cold sweat cascaded over my skin.
I couldn't breathe past the primal terror seizing every inch of me as the truth sank in.
Blessed Mother.The man I was looking at was Fae.
Man? No. Fae males weren’t men. Not truly. They only looked like mortal men.
Striking. Impossibly perfect. But beneath the beauty was power.
In the magical realm of Vaelthorne, the Fae were among the most powerful of all immortal beings.
I’d never seen one in real life. Only in old paintings and grainy sketches in books.
They came to the mortal realm on occasion as ambassadors and emissaries but never to Stormfell.
I was certain I could speak for the majority of people who lived here and say we’d never laid eyes on a Fae in our lives.
So why was one sitting across from me now?
And… wait…
How long had he been here?
