AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mace slips into the chair across from me at his table and smiles. “Dig in,” he says, gesturing for me to eat. I don’t even know where to begin, but I pick up a small knife to cut into the meat. I grip it and the pronged fork in my fists and roughly cut off a piece of meat to shove into my mouth. I chew quickly, suppressing a moan at the taste.
I look at Mace, the delicate way he holds his utensils, and look down at how my hands grip them. I swallow, and it goes down like sawdust at the heavy dose of embarrassment I feel. “I’m sorry, my table manners aren’t great. We didn’t get much meat growing up, and most of what we ate we used our hands…” I trail off. He shuts me down with a wave of his hand.
“Viola, you do not have to be embarrassed about anything around me. I do not hold you to the standards of the fae.”
My nose wrinkles. “What, because humans are so below the fae?” I push back from the table, my appetite chased away by his superiority complex. I wipe my face on a white cloth, then toss it on the table. “Nice chatting with you, Mace,” I snarl and head to the door.
He rises to follow me. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Viola. Please sit.” He shakes his head, and a feeling of warmth permeates the room.
I spin to face him. “Quit trying to magic me into staying!”
He balks. “What did you say?”
I wave my arms wildly around. “I can feel your influence magic! Just like at the Race’s opening ceremonies, you’re trying to calm me down with it!”
Mace pales, moving towards me on quiet feet. He stops just short of being chest-to-chest with me, and I feel ripples of power from him, soothing my limbs and encouraging me to submit. “That’s impossible,” he growls, that calm and subdued facade finally broken. It’s surprisingly nice to see the real him, even if it’s in anger. That sort of passion is intoxicating.
A flush crawls down my breastbone, and I am painfully aware of his eyes flashing towards it.
His eyes close in frustration, his deep breaths expanding his chest closer to me still. “Influence magic cannot be detected like that.”
I step towards him, connecting our bodies, unwilling to stand down at this moment. I feel his body tense against mine, but I do not remove myself, relishing the way I caught him off guard.
I drop my voice, a breathy whisper all I can manage at such close proximity to him. “Are you telling me you’re not using your influence on me now? Because I swear to you, Mace, I feel it roiling through me, warming me, attempting to calm my body and mind. I will not submit to your whims.”
He flinches back from my words but maintains contact with my body. His jaw ticks, and his nostrils flare as he breathes me in. His hands brush my thigh as he clenches his fist at his side. I raise my brow to him in silent challenge. My nose is level with his neck, and his scent of sandalwood and sea salt overpowers the residual smells of our dinner.
“I admit I am using my magic on you. But if you feel it…” he trails off, and I see confusion flicker in the backs of his eyes. His fingers release from their fist, and he brings his hand to my chin. He brushes those callused fingertips along my jaw, and despite the roughness, I shiver like it’s a cool breeze. I’m caught in the feeling for a moment, leaning closer still into him. As soon as I realize where I am and who he is, I jerk my head away from his hand. He lets it fall, brushing my shoulder and down my arm as he does.
With a sharp inhale I can feel through my chest, he whispers to me, “If you can feel my magic, then you’re much more interesting than I ever expected, Miss Mistflow.”
Chapter 35
Mace
Iamlosingmyself.
What started as an undeniable urge to get to know this woman and figure out what drives her has turned into a dangerous game of cat and mouse.
What was I expecting, inviting her into my home? I could tell myself that I wanted to give her a nice meal and endear her to me to get her to willingly offer herself up as a vessel.
I could tell myself that, but it would be a lie. I needed to be close to her.
So now I find myself pressed against her, in a freefall of need lit aflame at her touch.
I refuse to be the first to remove our bodies from one another.
Her jaw is set, her nostrils flaring, and I know she doesn’t like the idea of being interesting to me. Like a hare, she seeks to move quickly and unnoticed through this world. Her chest rises swiftly as her breathing picks up, spurred by my words. I fight hard to tune out the soft curves of her breasts against me and her crisp, clean scent.
There is no benefit in giving in to this feeling. Viola Mistflow is not long for this world. There is very little chance she will survive being used as a vessel.
But I cannot help the draw I feel towards her. That I have felt towards her for longer than I care to admit.
We stand there, chest to chest, for ages, neither of us speaking. Her lips are a hard line, her brow furrowed. My mind spins. Viola Mistflow being able to feel my magic was not something I accounted for. I reign it in, shutting off my intentions, pulling it back to rest within me. I feel the tension leave her body as I do.
“You were steeling yourself against the magic?” I mutter.
“I couldn’t have you manipulating me, could I?” Her voice is laced with poison but feels so sweet brushing past my lips.
