King of Always: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 2)
King of Always: Chapter 20

Isla

“Curse the Merits, my pendant’s data is scrambling!” says Elas, stopping in the middle of the meadow and studying his statistics.

“What?” Raff and I say, both jolting upright on the grass.

“Pardon. I should not have taken the Merits’ name in vain, but I was surprised into doing so. There is only one thing that causes a glitch in the technology in a natural setting such as this…Lidwinia.”

Lidwinia? What’s she got to do with anything?

“She is nearby, and I must speak with her. I know you wish to leave straightaway, Isla, but I promise I will return for you quickly.” He smiles and fans out his wings. “Please do not murder each other in the meantime.”

From my seat on the grass, I swipe my hand at him, clutching only air. “Elas! Wait…”

Without looking down at us, Elas bends into a deep crouch before leaping into the air just like Superman—except with glittering black wings instead of a shiny red cape.

Damn. This isn’t good. What if Temnen arrives or Elas never comes back? What if Raff starts spouting curse-crap to me again? I might punch him smack bang in the middle of his regally handsome nose, and it would be a mighty shame to spoil it.

The moment Elas’s sleek form disappears behind a bank of puffy white clouds, I feel Raff’s gaze on me, scorching patterns over my skin.

His large hand wraps around my wrist. “Isla. I am sorry that I upset you. It would please me a great deal if we could be friends. Despite what the prophecy claims about us, I enjoy your company for its own sake.”

But do I enjoy his? The butterflies taking erratic flight in my belly are evidence that I do. I open my mouth, and his palm shoots out as he leaps to his feet. “Wait. Before you speak. Let me explain further.”

With his chain and shackle dragging behind, he paces over the grass, stretching his arms above his head and then behind his back, his impressive muscles flexing.

I lean on my elbows and enjoy the show.

“Get to know me, and you will find I am not so bad.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve called me arrogant—well that is simply the way of my species. We can no sooner pretend humbleness than lie about our vigor and beauty. And besides, I am a prince of the fae—and we never have cause to doubt the importance of our station.”

Now I roll my eyes, which stops him strutting back and forth, his heart-melting smile wavering.

“Before the poison fouled not only my blood but my spirits as well, I possessed many attributes that you might consider favorable to have in a friend.” Moving closer, he lists points off on his fingers. “I was a storyteller. The life of every feast and revel. A lively friend who was ever devising entertaining misadventures. A skilled lover. An accomplished fighter and hunter.”

“Why are you telling me this? People don’t care if their friends can bring down a buffalo with one shot of an arrow. Or kiss like—”

“What is a buffalo? No. Do not answer. I don’t care to picture you with one.”

“What?”

Three tiny bright-green birds swoop over his head as he bends to pick a silky purple wildflower, then drops to his knees at my feet, holding it out. “Isla, a token of my affection.”

“Oh,” I say, taking the flower and inhaling its honey-sweet scent. “Thank you.”

He leans close. From only an inch away, his wolf’s eyes smolder at me. “I care for you, Isla. I feel…many things…” He shakes his tawny head, letting his words trail away.

“Um…” My gaze drops to his lips and stays there. “Thank you.”

“Thank you? Is that all you have to say to me?” he asks with a sigh.

No. No, it’s not. I can think of many things to mention. I could start with all the items carousing through my mind right now—the mouth-watering golden hue of his skin, the heart-pounding intensity of his fiery eyes, his tousled hair streaked with every tawny, coppery shade imaginable, those lips… When my gaze lands on his lushly curved mouth, I don’t want to say anything at all.

I want to throw caution into the flames and laugh as it burns to ash.

Grabbing him by his studded leather top, I drag him forward until our noses bump, his blown-out pupils staring into mine. “Shut up Raff and kiss me.”

Without a word, he obeys, and it is glorious. The fireworks exploding in my chest and belly, the delicious taste of his sighs. The low, rough sounds he makes. I stroke his pointed ears the way I wanted to the first time we kissed in the tower, but didn’t because it felt too intimate. This time, wrong feels so right, and I let his heavy shudders move through me and delight me.

With his weight, he pushes forward, lowering me carefully to the ground, and the entire seven realms that he’s always banging on about, narrow to the fire prince’s lips, the tracks of sparks his calloused fingers make along my throat, then my collarbone.

The sun glows, birds sing. The meadow beneath us feels like an undulating wave. And I breathe and whisper and feel every cell in my body ablaze with desire for the first time in my life. This is how it’s meant to feel.

Long minutes pass in bliss. Or perhaps it’s hours that we idle away stoking flames, then banking them only to raise them high again. Over and over.

I really hope that it’s been hours. And if it has, I’m still not ready for it to stop. I could stay here forever, kissing Raff, floating and melting in his arms.

When Elas returns, I don’t hear the steady beat of his wings, nor feel the thump of his boot as he kicks the sole of mine. I hear nothing until his laughter booms out, echoing over the valley.

“So,” says the technomancer. “This is how you occupy yourselves when I am not here to act as chaperon. Very interesting indeed.”

Raff smirks at Elas. “We were only making friends. You cannot blame us for that.”

“I see. And is that what humans call it, Isla, making friends?”

“No, Elas, we don’t. How was Lidwinia?” I ask, in a quick change of subject.

“Very well. I will explain what she wanted later. Now we must hurry and get you back to the tower, Rafael. Please stand and ready yourself for flight.”

Leaning back on his elbows, the prince chews on a dandelion stem, and says, “Take Isla first. I shall lie here and bask in the sun—and the memory of Isla’s friendship. I can’t think of a more pleasurable way to spend the last moments of my freedom.”

Elas beckons me onto my feet. “Come, Isla. Let us hurry.”

As Elas wraps me tight in his arms, I look over my shoulder at Raff sprawled on a bed of multi-colored wildflowers, a crooked grin on his face.

He winks at me, a thing smarmy guys do that I usually hate with a passion, but not now, not when Raff does it.

Perhaps the Prince of Fire is right after all—he’s not so bad. As he so helpfully pointed out, all things considered, there’s plenty to like about him. If only he didn’t think I was his stupid fated mate, I could throw myself into exploring this interesting new friendship of ours.

Possibly quite frequently.

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