Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“The Matchmaker was one of the most powerful Fae in existence. Some say she was from the Unseelie Court; others claim she was from the Winter Court because she fell in love with King Arian—but nobody knows how old she actually is. She was promoted to Matchmaker when one of the King’s eldest Matchmakers, Lucina, died—”
“Hit me baby one more time,” Luna started to sing—badly—as she started dancing while she looked over books, her shoulders moving like she was listening to her own personal song.
“Save Britney,” I muttered under my breath, trying like hell not to be amused or aroused as she started shimmying and picking up her next book.
I stopped everything, nearly dropping what I was reading when she gasped, her mouth moving as her finger went across like she found something interesting.
Why the hell did I care?
But I did.
So, I stared.
And I waited.
“Hey…” She didn’t turn around. “This book says that this house has been in your family for centuries but that it’s…” She finally looked over her shoulder. “Alive?”
I snorted out a laugh that I hoped was believable. “Houses aren’t people.”
No, our houses were something else entirely…
An entity.
Part of me.
Part of her.
A prison fit for royalty.
She frowned, crossed her arms, and smiled what I assumed was supposed to be for seductive purposes. “I’m all for testing that theory if you are.”
More sweat found its way down my back. “I’ve lived here for a while. Don’t you think I would know? Trust me, the stories are interesting, but like I said, you won’t find any—”
She was already on her feet. “Look.” She pointed to the fireplace. “It’s the same as in the picture, and it says if you introduce yourself and it finds you worthy, a flame will reach out and touch you—without burning you.”
I sighed. “Witchcraft at its finest. Please, gods, tell me you aren’t one of those people.”
I kept my expression passive as she chewed her bottom lip. “What do you mean?”
Stop staring at her lips, jackass. “A person who believes in things that are unseen?”
Her expression fell, and even though I was burning up like I had a fever, a chill ran down my spine. What had she experienced? And why was she suddenly so pale?
“Let’s just say I’ve lived a short albeit interesting life where there are things I can’t explain,” she finally murmured, her eyes not quite meeting mine before she looked toward the fire. “And I’m curious by nature.”
“Curiosity often gets people killed,” I said in a low voice.
She snapped the book shut, stood, and marched over to the fire. “A little burn isn’t going to kill me, Benjamin.”
My name on her lips.
The library groaned on my behalf as I imagined what it would feel like to have her say it again and again while I held her naked against me while she begged me.
“You never know…” I swallowed against the thickness in my throat. “…what fire is capable of.”
I may not remember the details of every reoccurrence.
But I always remembered the first death.
Her first death.
“Benjamin!” She screamed my name until her voice was hoarse. I’d begged the Matchmaker, along with the Kings of each court, to allow me to do it. If she was going to suffer, it would be at my hands.
Because it was my fault.
I wielded the fire over the palm of my hand; it flickered between blue and orange as it twisted over my fingertips.
Tears streamed down her face as she suddenly fell silent and watched with horror on her face.
Her jet-black hair was matted to her cheeks from the constant sobs—we’d gotten caught—we’d known the risks, but still, we had run.
Love… demands mighty things from those it afflicts.
And now, love was demanding her death.
“Wait for me.” She leveled her chin.
My eyes burned amber as I flicked my wrist out; the fire stretched, lighting up the wood beneath her feet, then twisting around her body until, with one final look into her eyes, diving into her chest.
Burning her heart before she could take her next breath.
And because she was from the Winter Court, rather than turn to ash, ice replaced what had once been burned, and there she stayed, frozen, dead, and I was the one who had done it to her.
“Benjamin?” Luna was right in front of me. “You’ve been staring into the flames for the last five minutes while I’ve been asking if you’re okay.”
“Apologies.” The word came out gruffer than I wanted. And her proximity caused such a blood lust to erupt that I was having trouble keeping tamped down—trouble keeping the glamour that she was so used to in place.
Maybe that was what I needed to do—scare the shit out of her and show her what I really looked like—what she really was.
What we both were.
I’m sure I probably did it in the past, pissed and trying to find a way to be with her despite all the reasons I couldn’t, despite the curse that bound our hearts and souls together.