Page 84 of How Does It Feel?

“It’s a good thing Alistair’s not near to hear your heart racing, or he would go mad,” Mendax whispered softly as he sat down next to me. The soft onyx-colored fabric of his pants and coat gently caressed the side of my thigh as he sat.

I hadn’t turned my face from the stairs to identify who it was. I didn’t need to. I knew it had been him before he spoke. My nerves seemed to itch for him when he was near, and that bothered me more than any of this. How could I feel that way about the man trying to kill me? He was the villain. I would only feel that for a hero.

“Will you truly let me go home if I survive the trials?” I asked softly, feeling vulnerable.

I turned to face him just in time to see a muscle feather at his jaw.

“Believe me, pet, when I tell you I want you gone—I need you gone,” his low whisper skated across my clavicle, down to lower, more hidden, parts of me.

“Then just send me away now. Why kill me?”

Our faces had somehow gotten closer. Here I could easily see the rosy tones of his soft lips, the smooth skin that made the dark hair near his temple stand out in contrast.

“Because if you’re not dead, I fear I will leave everything to follow you.” His gravelly voice was barely heard as it ghosted across my lips.

One minuscule movement from either of us and our lips would press together. What would it feel like to kiss that wicked mouth? Something in my gut warned me it would be like a drug—that it would feel like magic until every part of me was ripped apart, unable to collect the pieces.

“You assume I’d be easily found if—”

“I would find you,” he stated with a look that sent so many butterflies into my belly it made the moths in my hair flutter.

He lifted my arm as he stood, helping me up and setting it in the crook of his before guiding us down the wide staircase.

“If you die tonight and I never get to tell you, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

His kind words startled me, and I tripped down the step before he caught my waist with a firm grip. My long nails dug into his back for balance as I steadied myself. I looked up to thank him but stalled, finding his features afflicted with a look of torment.

I realized my nails dug into the spot where his wings would attach if they were out. The place I now knew was the killing blow of winged Unseelie creatures.

We both paused. He turned to face me, still holding my waist.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I pulled my fingers away. They trailed down his broad back, and I felt every muscle tense under my fingertips. “It’s the same for you, isn’t it? The killing point beneath your wing? Why would you not wear armor then?” I asked. Somehow this felt incredibly intimate.

I took the last step and moved off the stairs needing space. I hadn’t really expected an answer from him. The idiot still believed me to be an assassin, after all.

He grabbed my hand as I walked off the stairs and pulled me back against his chest. Something in his eyes looked dangerous and unhinged. His wings unfurled. This close, you could see they formed more of a physical substance than just wisps of airy smoke. I went to pull away. The sheer danger my body felt at the sight of his spread wing was enough to make me run. His predatorial side was in full effect, no longer hidden beneath the guise of a kind man.

He moved my hand to the place on his back just under his wing.

I gasped as he pressed my palm firmly against it, feeling the edge of skin and fabric that made way for the wings.

“Yes, lamb, a wound here would end me,” he rumbled as he held me against his chest. I could see every tiny blue speck in his beautiful eyes. His body screamed danger, but something in his eyes was gentle, sad even. “I wear no armor because I don’t need it. I accept the challenge of anyone foolish enough to attempt to end me. Most Fae are too stupid to know I also possess the weak spot.

He pressed my hand harder on the spot. I felt the thick liquid-feeling of his wing press against the top of my hand as if in retaliation to my closeness to the spot. Only our eyes spoke as we stared, our bodies pressed together intimately.

He was being vulnerable with me.

He had to believe I wasn’t really here to hurt him.

He seemed to shake himself out of it and moved forward, still holding my wrist as he tucked his wings away. We walked out the door to the largest, most horrifying carriage.

It was large and gothic, with black overlays covering the intimidating square frame. Rich red velvet screamed at my eyes when the door opened, but that wasn’t the scary part.

Six large skeletal unicorns with glowing red eyes stomped and huffed angrily as they waited at the front of the ominous vehicle. That still wasn’t the scariest.

“Get in already,” shouted the queen from inside the carriage.

Chapter 24