Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

I sink deeper into my bath, the water heating my skin. Moonlight spills through the towering windows, igniting the steam rising from the bath in coils of silver and red.

It's late, and I should be asleep. Instead, I take a sip of champagne as I let my muscles relax. After Arwenna ran away from the banquet, I left and went in search of Nivene to fill her in on everything I'd learned at the high council.

Unfortunately, she wasn't around. In fact, I haven't been able to find her in days. I returned to my room, wrote everything up, and dropped it in our secret location.

But I wasn't just looking for Nivene because of the report. After an evening of being poisoned and insulted, I desperately longed to see a friendly face. The loneliness in this place was starting to get to me.

Arwenna was right when she said I don't belong here.

My muscles tighten and my breath stills at the sound of an opening door. My heart slams against my ribs, and I rise from the bath, frantically grasping for a towel. Arwenna has shown up to murder me. With a racing pulse, I wrap the towel around myself and ease up a loose tile on the floor, grabbing the knife I've hidden within. Arwenna won't find me as harmless as she thinks.

"Nia?" a deep, velvety voice says from the other room. "Where are you?"

I let out a long exhalation and quickly return the knife to its hiding spot. "Talan? To what do I owe this visit?"

"To the fact that we are lovers and can't stay away from each other for even a moment. I know you miss gazing adoringly at my face, and I couldn't deprive you of the pleasure."

"Right." I clutch the towel tightly around myself and peer out into my room.

Talan has already draped himself in one of my chairs and pulled a book into his lap. His gaze flicks up at me. "I didn't expect to find you naked, which is an interesting surprise. You did know I was coming, didn't you?"

I clutch my towel. "Do you ever wonder what you might be like if you weren't born grotesquely wealthy, beautiful, and surrounded by people catering to your every whim?"

"Perhaps I'd be knee-deep in rotten onion dirt, thinking fondly of the halcyon days when apples grew. If only fate had dealt me such a hand."

"You might have developed an amenable personality."

"Sounds tedious."

I didn't bring any fresh clothes into the bathroom with me, so I'm forced to step into the room in my towel. As I walk to the dresser, I can feel his eyes upon me, though I assume an air of nonchalance. My wet hair drips down my back and shoulders, dampening the towel, and I yank open a drawer and grab the first pair of underwear and nightgown I can find. As I head back to the bathroom, I see Talan pour himself some wine. He's making himself at home.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I discover that I've grabbed a sheer nightgown and a pair of skimpy underwear with black lace around the waist. The nightgown is also black and utterly transparent, revealing my nipples through the sheer fabric.

Scanty or not, when I walk out of here, I have to look totally relaxed and at ease with everything on display. I take a deep breath and imagine that I'm fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

Opening the bathroom door, I find Talan sitting on my bed, shirtless.

I focus on keeping my shoulders relaxed, my expression serene. But it's not what I feel.

Here's what they don't teach you in Fey culture lessons when we practice being at ease with our bodies. They don't teach you how it will feel to walk out half-naked in front of possibly the most powerful Fey in the kingdom, a prince who strikes absolute terror into the hearts of everyone around him. Or how hard it is to think straight when he's half-naked, too, with a body that is perfection itself. Because my brain knows that he's a monster, but my pulse is still reacting to the sinuous tattoos of willow branches that stretch across his finely-cut muscles. I've never practiced how it would feel to walk out like this before a heart-stoppingly beautiful man whose eyes darken at the sight of me.

His jaw tightens, and that eerie Fey stillness overcomes his body. His deep, silken voice seems to ring in my skull?—

I would drag you into the night's dark embrace with me and bring you to the edge…

Candlelight flickers over his powerful body. My pulse races as he drags his gaze from me and stands, removing his belt in one smooth movement.

I slide onto the other side of the bed and pull up the covers around me. "You're not planning on sleeping in my bed naked, are you?"

He rolls over, propping his chin on his palm. "And there's my tightly-wound mistress again. You were starting to seem almost relaxed for a moment, and I wondered where the real Nia had gone. But don't worry, I will keep my shorts on."

For a moment, my gaze dips to his lips, full and slightly curved. Disturbingly sensual. "Good."

"I suspect you're more worried about your own self-control than mine." His silken voice thrums over my skin. "You did just call me beautiful."

"Did I? Well, enough chitchat. I need my sleep." He really brings out the uptight peevishness in me, though oddly, I suspect he likes it.

I steal a quick look at his powerful chest and pull the covers more tightly around me.

"Do you ever enjoy things, Nia? Ever at all?"

"I'm not all misery. I was in love once."

"And what happened to him?"

I swallow hard. Keep the lies as close to the truth as possible. "He had a bad habit of running away from things. Including me. He broke my heart twice."

"Mmm." A deep murmur. "Shall I have him tortured and executed?"

Oh, my dear Talan. You've already started on that.

"No," I say. "He's not a bad person, but he chose his work over me."

He scoffs. "He sounds fucking boring."

"Were you ever in love?"

The candlelight dances over his carved muscles. "There's only one woman for me, and she is a figment of my imagination, a voice in my thoughts."

"So many centuries and not one love? Is it all the murdering? Does it get in the way of romance?"

"Not much time for love when I have subjects to torment."

"Seems like my ex isn't the only one obsessed with work."

He glances at me, and for a moment, I think there's a faint sadness in his smile. "If you saw what I see in people's dreams, you'd know why I don't love anyone."

"And what do you see in people's dreams that disturbs you so much?" I ask.

"All the things people want from me and all the things they fear from me."

I suppose he thinks no one knows or cares for the real him—the Talan who would have existed in another world, where he was a poor nobody.

I'm not about to start feeling sorry for him.

I turn and blow out the candles next to me, and shadows pool in the room, tinged with silver and red from the moonlight.

I slide down into the bed and roll over. Clamping my eyes shut, I try not to think about how close he is to me. I will not dwell on how he smells—of smoky cedar faintly tinged with perfumed flowers—and I absolutely will not entertain the memories of how many times I've overheard his thoughts as he pleasured a woman until she gripped his hair and screamed his name while he brought her to orgasm…

Nia, this is a man who would rip your throat out in a heartbeat if he knew the truth.

I close my eyes, summoning the veil in my mind.

"Why is your heart beating so fast?" he murmurs.

I curl my fingers around the blankets. "Don't you know everyone is scared of you?"

Silence falls in the darkened room. Outside, lightning cracks and thunder rolls over the horizon. "Yes," he says quietly, "but I didn't think you were."

My throat tightens, and I clamp my eyes shut.

I wake in the night, horrified to find that I've curled myself around his body—one arm around his chiseled abs, my thigh wrapped around his hips. In this position, I feel the full length of him, his hard cock pressed against the inside of my thigh. He's enormous and built like a god in every way, isn't he?

Here is my body forsaking me yet again—as I slept, I crawled to him and wrapped myself around him, lured by his exquisite beauty and his smell.

I'm frozen, my pulse racing. At the feel of his arousal, heat slides through my body.

This would all be much easier if he looked like a troll.

I glance up and find the Dream Stalker lying awake, staring at the ceiling.

Fuck.

"Sorry," I whisper. "I was asleep."

"My dear Nia, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You should wrap yourself around me whenever you want." His voice is a velvet caress over my skin.

I force myself to pull my arm away, slide my leg off him, and shift across the bed again. As soon as I'm away from him, I feel cold and tense. But I pull the covers tightly, gripping the sheets, and force my breathing to slow. I summon that mental veil again and drift off to sleep.

I stir in my sleep, waking slowly. I've been dreaming of him—that he pinned me down, ripping through the sheer fabric of my nightgown. In my dream, when he pressed his lips against my throat, his canines brushed against my skin, and I wrapped my thighs around him and moaned his name.

Am I spooning him? My heart thuds.

I am, in fact, spooning him. Talan has turned away from me, and I've wrapped my arms around his abs. My leg is curled around his, and he's holding one of my wrists in his large hand.

But he's asleep this time, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Early morning light spreads a blush into the room.

…verdant fields rent crimson with blood… all-consuming slaughter, hellfire roars to life…

My muscles tense. The first thing I feel is horror at his violent thoughts, but then I realize something more important has just happened. I can hear what he's thinking now that I'm touching him, just like with any other person. Even with this shield up in my mind, I'm getting glimpses into his thoughts as our bodies make contact.

But what is he dreaming about? Warfare? Death? Something that's already happened or something he has planned?

I pull my arm away and untangle my legs from his.

Talan sighs in his sleep and rolls onto his back. He sits up in bed, his hair tousled, eyes sleepy. "Are you awake again, Nia?" he asks softly. "You were wrapped around me the entire night."

"I was not."

"You were moving your hips against me in your sleep."

A flush spreads across my cheeks. "Well, I was asleep, and I was dreaming you were a horse."

"I dread to think what you do to horses. And they say I'm depraved."

"Obviously, dreams don't make any sense. That's the nature of dreams."

"As a dream expert, I wouldn't say that."

A knock sounds on the door, and within moments, Aisling flings the door open. Her jaw drops at the sight of Talan, and she blurts an apology, then slams the door shut again.