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He eased his hold but still kept me pressed close. It allowed me to pull my skirt up higher so that I could finally reach the scabbard strapped to my thigh.
I tried to ignore the way his hard, warm body felt pressed against my back, the way he smelled so pleasant like clean, fresh air and cedarwood.
“You’re also holding me against my will,” I snapped. “I’d sayyou’rethe danger.”
He chuckled lightly, the rumble vibrating to my back then he dipped his head close to my ear again. “Perhaps you’re right,” he crooned in that velvet voice. “Maybe you should be a good girl and not run off.”
Then he released me from his hold. I spun around at the same time, whipping the dagger from its scabbard. If he wassurprised, he didn’t show it. Actually, his gaze wasn’t even on the blade I held but on my leg.
When I glanced down, I realized that the hem of my skirt and chemise had caught on the scabbard, revealing far too much of my pale thigh. I jerked the skirts free and dropped them, then pointed the dagger at him more threateningly, narrowing my gaze. “Don’t come near me.”
His red eyes gleamed with pleasure as if I’d said something sweet and alluring. Then he stepped closer, doing exactly what I warned him not to do.
“I’m serious, you demon,” I spat, my dagger digging into his jaw. He seemed not to care at all. “Don’t come a step closer.”
He didn’t, but he did, however, reach out his hand and lift a strand of my long hair.
“So soft and pretty,” he murmured, “like silver silk.”
I grabbed his wrist with my free hand and pressed the blade to the skin of his throat. His arrogant smile spread wide, the strands of my hair sliding through his fingers. I shivered at the sensation, not understanding why it both disturbed and thrilled me.
“Don’t test me,” I warned, injecting as much venom as I could into my voice. “I’ll stab you right through the heart.”
His scarlet gaze devoured me with fiery heat, but the timbre of his voice remained steady and cool. “My sweet, of that I am positively sure.”
Puzzled, I frowned, then suddenly he snatched the blade from my hand, scooped me up, sprinted three steps, and beat his great black wings, lifting us into the air. I squealed as he aimed for a narrow opening between branches. He curled an arm over my head as he pummeled right through, breaking through with a snap of branches. We were airborne.
For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut, not even caring that I clung to him like a frightened kitten. I’d clawed one hand intothe back of his leather doublet, the other into his chest. He didn’t seem to mind at all, soaring through the sky without a care.
Soaring.I forced my eyes open and turned my head to look. I gasped. We weren’t far above the tree line, heading northwest. The sun had dipped behind the Solgavia Mountains in the distance, the sky a swath of indigo with the first twinkling of stars.
Up here, everything seemed so ethereal and illusory. The sky, the mountains, the trees and the ground below. They were all real, and yet, when gliding between the earth and stars, the world felt more like a dream, one that appealed to me far more than reality.
For the first time in my life, I felt a pang of grief that I hadn’t been born with wings. From the day my mother left, the same day I had realized my white hair and purple eyes signified not only that I was different but my birth was repellant, I’d wished I had dark hair and warm, brown eyes like my sister, Tessa. Like my mother. I’d only ever wanted to belong to them.
But now, flying high above the world, I wanted to be more like my father. Instead, I was cursed to be neither wood fae nor moon fae, floating somewhere in between.
“What are you thinking?” His deep voice jarred me.
I stared out at the glowing horizon, the sun kissing the sky one last time before he slept.
“I was thinking how apt that I should love this so much. Flying.”
When I didn’t expound, he asked, “Why is it so fitting?”
“Because here, you’re between two realms, the heavens and the earth. That’s always been me. Caught between two worlds, never belonging to either.”
He said nothing, beating his wings once, gliding lower as we passed over the thick woodland.
“I wish I could stay here,” I murmured to myself.
He shifted me in his hold. It seemed he wanted to look at me, meet my gaze.
“I’ll bring you any time you like, Murgha.”
My brow pinched at my name as I was reminded this shadow fae priest somehow knew me. That disconcerting sensation returned. “How do you know who I am?”
Rather than avoid me yet again, he answered in a somber tone, “I’ll tell you everything after we get settled for the night.”
