Page 27 of Bound to the Fae Assassin

He marched over to the broom in the corner, ready to impress her. She had been terrified and thrilled with the butterflies. But everyday magic could be beautiful, too.

He lifted his hand and the broom sailed into it eagerly. His magic worked best with the wild things of the world. The broom was not alive, but the thongs holding the bristles in place were made of leather. That tiny bit of animal flesh caused the whole implement to delight in serving him.

“No,” Farrow’s voice cut the dusty air between them like a knife. “That is not permitted here.”

She was worried, of course. At any moment, her parents might walk through, or Jericho might crawl in, trying to protect his territory like a terrier.

Blackthorn scoffed at the thought. If the mortal boy thought he stood a chance against Fae royalty, he was a fool indeed.

But she was right about the magic. If he wanted to stick around long enough to enact the new plan he’d begun to hatch, he couldn’t risk it.

“Fine,” he said.

He would use the broom himself, surely it could not be so hard if every household servant could accomplish it.

He placed the bristles on the ground and walked, dragging it beside him, and watching the dust on the floor move along.

It was satisfyingly effective, though what he was supposed to do with the dust he had no idea.

He glanced up to see if Farrow was looking. If not, his plan was to sweep it under the center island.

She was looking.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“I am sweeping,” he replied proudly. “What are you doing, Farrow Barton?”

She was admiring him, that was what. He was certain of it.

Farrow began to giggle.

He frowned.

“You’ve never used a broom before,” she said as she approached. “Let me show you.”

He held perfectly still as she came close, placing her hands over his from behind and showing him the violently brisk movement she wanted.

His mind was filled with questions, like wouldn’t this kind of sweeping just kick up more dust?

But when he sucked in a breath, he forgot everything but her delicious scent. He realized he was happy for her to sweep him around the room, maybe even sweep him off his feet, so long as she kept her small body pressed to his.

It wasn’t just that she smelled good. It was more that he felt more alive in her presence now than… well, more alive than he ever remembered feeling.

Too soon, she let go and pulled back to look at him.

He turned to her.

“So?” she asked.

Did she want him to kiss her? To take her out behind the bakery and defile her?

“Do you understand now how to sweep?” she asked him slowly, as if he had fallen off his horse and had a head injury.

Come to think of it, he really wasn’t feeling himself. He swore there was a soft, dreamy haze around her.

Her eyebrows went up.

“Yes,” he said, quickly. “Yes, I understand now.”

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