Page 75 of The Hidden Fae Prince
“What is it?” Seren asks.
“That time outside your village,” Nevander says quietly. “He shouldn’t have known where to send the augray. The changeling spell hid you completely.” This time, when Nevander tries to stand, Seren doesn’t stop him. Nevander braces one hand against the great tree. “He followed me instead. He found you because I was watching you.”
The weight is almost too much. Missing brothers and missing realms and magic Seren barely begins to grasp.
There’s one mystery he can unravel now, if he tugs the chain hard enough. “How long were you watching me?”
“I shouldn’t have.” Nevander’s gaze darts everywhere but Seren’s face. “Haelwen forbade it, for good reason.”
“How long?” Seren repeats, undeterred.
Nevander releases the tree, supporting himself. “Two years. It took me a while to find the village.”
That’s longer than Seren expected. Far longer than he noticed. Did Nevander get careless over the last fewmonths, or did Seren get more observant? How much of Seren’s pathetic life did Nevander witness? Chatting with the neighbors. Helping Alard. Avoiding Edith. Dunking his head in the water bucket on hot summer days. Scratching his ass. Lonely walks along the stream.
Two years. That’s not a passing interest. Seren used to dream that someone might want him. His hand burns with the brand of Nevander’s feather. The weight of the sparring branch.
“Why did you watch me?” Seren asks, yearning to fly again.
“I needed to protect you,” Nevander answers, knocking him to earth.
Seren turns aside. Nevander’s closing off again, and Seren doesn’t have the strength to push. He can only be rebuffed so many times before he gets the hint.
He wants to be special, but he’s just an obligation.
Seren can close himself off too. “Your diligence is admirable. We should return to the palace.”
Nevander swears and grabs Seren’s arm. “That was then, but it’s different now.” Urgency tightens his brow. “You’re so much more than I imagined, Seren. And if you still want my emotions, I’ll lay them bare.”
“Yes,” Seren breathes, without needing to think. “Show me everything.”
Trepidation whispers into Seren’s lungs. He welcomes it, greedy for the faintest hint of Nevander’s secrets.
Then the storm crashes.
Bright deep soaring, gold dark dreaming, dagger claws of desperate need. Adoration bleeds from veins torn asunder,stitched anew with longing threads. Summer blooms eternal, its mysteries written clear in crystal and vine and the softest skin.
Devotion binds itself, and rather than stifling it, the control only intensifies every desire. Seren has never felt his body the way he now feels each inch of starving skin.
When they sparred, Nevander hadn’t simply wanted to kiss him. He’d wanted to own Seren, body and spirit, from now until forever.
“Gods’ mercy, you can keep a secret,” Seren says, dazed. “Sometimes I thought you hated me.”
Nevander holds him by the hips, steadying them both. “Hatred would have been simpler.”
“You want me,” Seren says, because the very idea is magical. His hands slide into Nevander’s hair. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Something dark and delicious crosses Nevander’s face. Flares across the shield before Nevander can close it off again. “If you marry Gevain, I will kill him.”
Laughter escapes Seren’s lips. “Don’t think about—”
Nevander’s kiss silences him.
24
The Weakness of an Open Heart
Nevandercan’tfeelSeren’semotions. He doesn’t need to. Seren responds with such overwhelming eagerness. Shallow, desperate kisses reveal the sweetness of his lips. Nevander kisses deeper, ready to drown in his prince. All his control rests in his grasp of Seren’s waist, keeping him from holding too tightly.
