He flips it, capturing it by the handle before he offers it to me. “Then you do the honor.”
The honor? I stare at the knife.
Curling my fingers around the hilt, he sets the tip of the blade to his wrist and slashes a thin line across his bronzed skin.
“Goddess’s mercy! What are you doing?” I rip the knife well away from him.
Cupping a hand at the base of my skull, he brings his wrist up. “Drink.”
I slam my palm against his chest. “I don’t know what sort of proclivities you might have, but where I’m from, we don’t drink blood. That’s just a stupid story the fae conjured.”
Keir glares at me. “My blood will heal you. Don’t tell me you’re squeamish?”
“I’ll… heal.”
“No, you won’t. And not in time. I need you whole and hearty, not fainting on the floor in the middle of the fucking wedding from blood loss. Drink, Zemira.”
Help. He used my name.
“Where’s my pragmatic wench now?” he croons.
Currently feeling a little overwhelmed.
But he does speak the truth.
I have a horn to steal, a betrayal to plan, and a prince to escape.
I give into the pressure of his hand and allow him to draw my head forward. The first brush of his wrist against my lips sends a shock of lightning through me, but it’s the wetness of his blood spreading over them that makes me shiver.
It tastes like copper and iron. It’s not unpleasant, but the second his blood hits my stomach, heat spears through me. Weariness sloughs off me and my wound tingles as if the magic in his blood has found a weakness and targets it.
It feels like starshine in my blood. Like heat and warmth, and a tingling sensation that lights through me everywhere.
I fall back against the wall, gasping. I think I just had an orgasm. If the fae knew his blood had the ability to do this to them, they’d be bottling it.
“Better?” The knowing look in his eyes makes me slap his shoulder with the heel of my palm.
I stare at him.
There’s a promise in his eyes. One that says he can take me away from here—from all of this. One that will protect me at all costs. One that says there’s a court of dreams out there, with a gorgeous sun-kissed palace filled with servants to tend my every need, and beds draped in silken sheets. I can almost hear the sound of waves dashing against the sandy beaches below that palace. The taste of dates explodes in my mouth as if I just bit into one, and the caress of fingertips skates up my hips.
If I close my eyes, I’m right there.
Feeling those dangerous lips chase their way up the slope of my neck, the graze of teeth threatening to dig deep into the muscle at the base of my shoulder—
This is his most dangerous aspect.
He gets inside your head.
He gets inside my head and conjures a dream of a new life, where I never need worry about my father again.
If only I could promise him my heart, my body, and my soul.
For one breathless moment, we stare at each other, and I’m surprised at how much I want that lie.
Because it is a lie for someone like me.
My heart is a fist of stone within my chest. My body a weapon I use at will. And my soul? If I owned it myself, I would never, ever let another dare take it from me.
“Better,” I rasp, swinging my legs off the vanity and letting my boots hit the floor.
He doesn’t back away.
I’m left pressed flush against his body, curling my fingers into fists before I can touch him. It’s like his blood now calls to me. A little shiver of that post-orgasmic bliss steals through me. I want his hands on my skin. I want that connection.
Damn it.
“I need to wash,” I growl out, because I desperately need him out of this room.
Keir finally gives me space, sidestepping toward the oils sitting on the vanity. “So what next? Since Belladonna and Anissa are clearly not responsible for your sister’s disappearance.”
“They’re involved in something,” I correct.
Belladonna’s a royal princess, and the lady of the Dawn Court may—or may not—be involved with Belladonna’s cousin, according to gossip. And what had she meant about those letters?
Why would she be searching Soraya’s room for them?
“But not your sister’s disappearance,” he points out.
“Mistmark, then,” I tell him, trying to ignore the shiver of desire in my blood as I turn the faucet on. “He and Soraya had a certain history together. He’d recognize her on sight and would move to strike her down if he saw her. Besides, if anyone is going to know where the horn is, it’s going to be him.”
Keir scowls into the distance. “How are you going to get to him?”
That is the problem.
“You’re not going to enter his rooms the way you did tonight.” There’s a hint of anger in Keir’s voice. “You nearly died.”
I blow a breath of frustration through my lips. “A slight exaggeration, my prince. And no, I’m not going anywhere near Mistmark’s rooms.”
Not until I know how he thwarted my sister’s assassination attempt all those years ago.
“No,” I repeat. “I need more information. I’m working blind here. Normally I know what I’m looking for. It’s simply a matter of finding it. Now… I need more information. Time to go play simpering lady of the Greenslieves.”
The men spend the morning hunting the woods, including Keir. I plead a headache and leave the ladies to their own devices on the front lawns. From a stolen glimpse through the window, it looks like they’ve set up a field of archery. Several servants appear to have been roped into the game, and they’re wearing targets over their clothes. I don’t know what the ladies are shooting with—their arrows appear to have blunted ends, and every time they strike a servant, a colorful cloud of powder erupts, until the servants look like they’ve been dusted
