Page 75 of Fallen Nocturne

“No.” His voice is strained.

“Then why are you—”

“You need to stop touching them.” He cuts me off, each word sounding dragged from between clenched teeth. “The wings are sensitive.”

I pause, my hand resting on the membrane.

Sensitive? All right. I should be more careful, then.

There are still a few burns left to heal. My fingers move across the membrane, checking for remaining damage.

His whole body goes rigid. “Just… be careful.”

“I’m almost done healing.”

“You’re not healing anymore. You’re—” He breaks off as my fingers trace along a vein in the wing. “Stop.”

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“No.” His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping.

“Then what is it?”

I touch a particularly delicate section near where the wing connects to his back. His hand shoots out, gripping my wrist to still my movement.

“Rhianelle.” His voice is a warning. Low and dangerous. “Stop.”

He stares at me, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light of the closet.

Arescaine’s breath hisses out between his teeth. His grip on my wrist tightens. In the narrow space between us, pressed close enough to feel every line of his body, I become abruptly aware of the hard length of him.

Oh.

Oh. Heat floods my face as understanding crashes over me.

“It’s that sensitive,” I whisper.

“Yes,” he says through his teeth. “So unless you want to discover exactly how sensitive, don’t touch.”

Before I can respond, the closet door opens.

We both freeze.

A fae stands in the doorway. She is slender, with delicate butterfly wings in shades of pink and gold. Petal stares at us for a heartbeat, her eyes going wide.

“Fawn?” she breathes.

She is one of the servers I’d met before. A bruise darkens her left eye. It’s fresh and painful-looking. The skin around it is swollen, angry purple and yellow.

Rage flares in my chest. Someone hit her.

“Petal,” I whisper. “Please—”

She holds up a hand, cutting me off. She glances over her shoulder toward the main room where Kharlis’s laughter echoes.

Then she looks back at us, her expression hardening with determination.

“Wait here,” she mouths.