She laughed at him. “I don’t need your help. You’ve done quite enough.”
Kivrin grasped her arm again, towering over her. He should have been intimidating in his grandeur, but he seemed smaller than ever.
“Listen and listen closely,” he growled.
But Kerrigan never had to hear what he said because a hand came down and clamped on Kivrin’s shoulder.
“I would release her, good sir.”
Fordham Ollivier stood there, standing eye to eye with her father. His mask had been removed, and his stormy-gray eyes raged. He didn’t even look ridiculous in the powder blue. He looked like he belonged.
Kivrin let Kerrigan’s arm go. “So, this is how you got into the party?”
“I was invited,” Fordham said evenly. He gestured to Kerrigan. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“This is a bad idea,” Kivrin said, glancing between them.
“Not any more than you are,” Kerrigan spat.
She followed Fordham away from her father. Her chest ached, and she felt like she had been wrung out. She didn’t even pay attention to where Fordham was leading until they were in the gazebo at the back of the property, where they had all agreed to meet. Fordham gestured for her to take a seat, which she did, burying her head into her hands.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“That guy was a total dick to you.”
Suddenly, she just couldn’t pretend anymore. She was tired of hiding who she was. After Audria’s confession and her dealings with her dad, she couldn’t sit by and act like everything was fine.
“That guy is my father,” she said, looking up to meet his eyes.
Fordham balked at that. “Kivrin Argon is your father?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But he’s a royal? And you’re…”
“Half-Fae?”
“Dragon Blessed,” he finished. “Obviously, your father would have to be Fae if your mother was human, but I thought that the House of Dragons was a way to advance in society. I gathered that they took kids off the streets and out of poverty to help them have a second chance in society. If your father is a royal…”
“That’s exactly why he abandoned me,” she said bitterly. “Most Fae don’t grow into their severely pointed ears until they’re five or six.” She gestured to the sharp points of his own ears. “I was left at the mountain when I was five right as my shorter ears were beginning to reveal that I wasn’t fully Fae.”
Fordham stared at her, his face unreadable. She didn’t know if he felt the horror that she did when she thought about it. Perhaps this was normal where he was from. Perhaps they would have just killed Kerrigan instead.
Kerrigan didn’t wait for him to say something. She just barreled forward. “There’s a story of the lost princess of Bryonica. Princess Felicity Argon of the House of Cruse was stolen at five years old, and everyone went looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found,” Kerrigan said, looking off into the gardens. “But I wasn’t lost. I was right here, where my father left me. Now, Audria found it all out. She wants her mother to adopt me from the House of Dragons so that everything can go back to the way it was.” She choked on the last words. “But it can never go back. Not after what my father did. Besides Helly, who knows what happened, I’ve avoided everyone from Bryonica. The very last thing I want is to go back to the place that let my father abandon me and be paraded around like some long-lost princess. I would rather work every day in the Society as a forgotten nobody than live that sham of a life.”
Fordham sank into the seat next to her and tilted her chin up to look at him. “You don’t have to go back.”
“I don’t know if I have another choice,” she gasped. “Once a Dragon Blessed has been chosen, that’s that. I don’t think I can say no.”
“Since when have you ever taken anything at face value?”
She hiccuped around a laugh. “Never.”
“We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
Their eyes locked. Where she had seen nothing only moments earlier, deep emotions swirled through his irises. It startled her. So frequently, he just shut down, as if not showing emotions was a defense mechanism. Something trained into him.
“Ford,” she whispered hesitantly.
His hand moved from her chin and back into her hair. “What have you done to me?”
“What have I done?” she asked back.
“You have bewitched me so.”
And she was lost to him.
His lips lowered to hers, and time froze. He tasted like honey and liquor and oranges. His lips were soft and supple and oh-so inviting. His tongue grazed across her bottom lip, and she shivered, opening her mouth to him. He swept in, brushing their tongues together. A soft groan escaped her at that first touch.
Her hands reached for the elaborate jacket, knotting into the material. He reacted by drawing them closer, his hands roamed down her side, to her hip, and then against the middle of her back until their bodies were flush. Still, they weren’t close enough. She slid forward until she was seated into his lap.
She couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even care. This was bliss. This was precisely where she wanted to be. Her hands slipped under the jacket and found the strong contours of his back. Everything felt urgent and necessary and needy. She had no desire to stop this. Didn’t think that it was possible to stop this. It was a runaway cart, barreling down a hill. Only a force of will or the gods could impede its descent.
She hadn’t had a sip of faerie punch, but her skin felt hot, her breaths came out as gasps, and every brush of his lips against her sent fire coursing through her. She forgot their mission, the real reason for them being here. She just got lost in Fordham Ollivier.
Then, he was standing, and she tumbled off his lap, nearly landing on the
