Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“You’re saying this is torture?” I tease, glancing down at my dress. “But I worked so hard on it.”
His hands flex at his sides, opening and curling into fists, as if he’s trying to control himself. “Every second I’m not touching you is torture.”
“Oh. Then in that sense perhaps I am trying to torture you.” My nerves fizzle away, replaced with a kind of confident self-awareness I’ve only known as the Enchanting Lady. But I’m not her tonight. I’m Jas, and Kendrick doesn’t want me because of some great and powerful magic. He wants me because I’m me.
He steps forward but keeps his hands at his sides as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “The only thing better than seeing you in that dress is knowing how easy it will be to take it off.”
His fingertips sweep against the small of my back, sending a shiver racing up my spine. I lean into him.
When I turn my head, he cups my jaw in both hands and angles his mouth over mine. He tastes like whiskey and warms my blood the same.
I grip his shirt, needing him closer, and one of his hands drops from my face to my rib cage, his thumb stroking the underside of my breast.
The door behind him swings open, and I’m vaguely aware of someone saying something behind him.
But I can’t be expected to make out words when my mind is so full of him.
“Out,” Kendrick growls without looking.
There’s a soft chuckle. “Sorry to interrupt,” Remme says, “but they’re asking for you outside.”
Kendrick tears his mouth from mine and nods, his chest heaving with his ragged breaths. “In a minute,” he says, his gaze still on me.
“I’ll let them know you’re on your way.” Remme looks me over and cocks a brow. “Looking good, Princess.” He clicks the door shut behind him as he leaves, and I step out of Kendrick’s arms.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Nodding, I turn toward the window that overlooks the village. The bonfire for tonight’s celebration blazes in the distance. “I know we need to go, but I just want to stay here.”
Kendrick steps up behind me, slides his arms around my waist, and nuzzles his face into the side of my neck. “I wish we could.” His lips are warm. I want to close my eyes and sink into the pleasure of it, but he straightens before I have the chance.
My neck feels too cold where his mouth used to be.
Sighing, I survey the people in the distance and remember my conversation with my handmaid.
“How many of the fae I meet tonight will be actual fae?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know they aren’t all humans that have been glamoured. My handmaid is fae, and you said that there were fae long ago in Elora who called themselves elves. How many of the Elorans that I will meet tonight will be in their true form?”
He studies me for a long time. “As far as I know, everyone you meet tonight will be in their true form. It is in Elora that they must hide who they are. They come here to be free.”
“And the humans? Did the people of Elora know that fae—elves—lived among them?”
“Once, it was no secret, and there was no animosity between the two races. That came later.”
“With the Magical Seven,” I say, connecting the dots.
“Right. It served them to turn the humans against the fae and against faerie magic, and they used fear and misinformation against the native Eloran fae until they could no longer live openly in their own realm.”
I study the people milling around the bonfire in the distance with a new kind of sympathy. I know what it’s like to long for home but know you’ll be unwelcome there. “So they hid?”
“Some left, seeking out a realm where they wouldn’t have to disguise what they were. But others stayed and lived disguised as humans.”
“But why? Why would they do that?”
“Why does anyone hide part of who they are? To escape persecution and protect their families. To live in peace.” He draws in a ragged breath. “To avoid the prejudice of those around them.”
I sink into a chair, trying to sort it all out. “Why did the Seven hate the fae so much?”
“Because only the fae could expose them for what they were.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand. You mean the fae could prove they were evil?”
Kendrick doesn’t answer but keeps his gaze leveled on me.
The Magical Seven. The most powerful magic users in the entire human realm. The collective that rules from afar to keep the fae from our lands, to keep the portals closed—or at least more difficult to use—and to make sure magic isn’t misused. “No,” I whisper. “Surely they aren’t . . .” He doesn’t look away. “They’re fae? This Erith I’m meant to kill is fae? How could that be? How could they have tricked us for so long? How . . .” But the how is so obvious. Magic and lots of it. More than any mage could ever wield. “Why?”