Page 55 of The Court the Fae Forgot
Before either of us could even consider what to do next, Finch chose that exact moment to flop over from his stomach onto his back, the sudden flurry of motion finally prompting mine.
Embarrassment flooded through me as I scrambled to free myself from Zev’s lap. Finch didn’t so much as open his eyes, his lips only parting to mumble something about “just one more hand of cards” before he curled up, half on Zev’s lap, in the place I’d only just vacated.
Zev and I both froze, for a moment, neither of us daring to move, let alone to look at each other.
“I … I,” I fumbled for words, even as my hands fumbled to smooth my skirts back down into place. Heat, hotter even than Zev’s skin between my thighs just moments before, flooded my face until it was unbearable.
I caught sight of a water jug on one of the abandoned shelves and took the opportunity to snatch it up, muttering something about being back in a minute before I rushed off, not daring to look at Zev’s face—or worse, at Finch, for any sign that he might not have been quite so asleep as we’d both thought.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
I wasgrateful for the noise and the smoke when I ran, feet nearly tripping over each other in my haste, back down to the first floor of the tavern. I was even more grateful for the fact that its patrons had finally gotten too drunk to notice the small girl slipping down the stairs and passed the bar toward the door, her face flushed red as she desperately searched out the shock of cold air she hoped to find outside.
I tumbled out into the night air unseen, my lungs not fully drawing breath until I’d stepped several paces out into the street. To my left, I heard the rustle of horses’ sleeping breaths in the tavern’s stables, and to my right, nothing but silence as the city’s streets finally slept.
Ahead of me, I saw only trees. No sign of Shiel’s tent, no sign of Shiel at all.
I was too distracted for this to bother me at first. Sleep made my feet stumble like a drunkard as I slipped from the street into the stable, looking for a water pump to fill my jug. The only thought that consumed my mind was the need to splash my burning face with cool, mind-clearing water.
What had I been thinking?
Surely, I knew what I was doing when I climbed up onto Zev’s lap.
But then, had he known it too? Had he wanted me there, wanted me as much as he clearly did by the time I was finished marking his skin?
I finally found the water pump and fell to my knees in front of it, one hand reaching up to pump the water as my other held the jug still beneath it. Icy water splashed out and sprayed my face, tiny droplets teasing relief against my searing skin.
It was only halfway full before I gave in and stuck my whole face beneath the stream of water. The promised relief only lasted a minute, however, before suddenly it wasn’t just my hand on the pump.
Another hand, large and rough, closed over mine. I tried to pull away instinctively, but then another hand was on the back of my neck, too.
The hand on mine pressed down the pump again so that the water continued to pour out, while the other made sure my face remained beneath the stream of water—suffocating me.
No,drowningme.
Panic flooded through me.
I struggled against the hands holding me down, but try as I might, they didn’t budge. They were too strong, too rough, too determined to watch me drown while sitting upright in the middle of a tavern stable.
It was the very thing Shiel had warned me of.
Were these fae come to kill me before I had the chance to find out if I was this so-called lost heir to the throne? Were these humans come to teach us a lesson, to take something precious from the fae while they had the chance? Or were they simply thieves who hadn’t noticed Zev take back Finch’s coins, hoping to make an easier, quieter target out of me once I was dead?
It didn’t matter, I supposed.
Dead was dead, no matter the reason why.
It was only seconds before my panic-stricken lungs began demanding air. They screamed at me to draw breath where there wasn’t one to be drawn. Light bloomed behind my closed eyes, highlighting the dark edges pressing closer. My head swam. My lungs burned. My mind begged me to breathe the air that wasn’t there.
My body rebelled, at long last, against me. I took one great, deep gulp of water that seared into my lungs and rushed down my throat, before the hands holding me beneath the stream of water suddenly let up.
I fell back in a sodden, sobbing, mess, water spewing from my nose and mouth as my stomach retched and my lungs struggled to expel every drop that had been so close to drowning me. It was still a few moments later still before I was able to fully comprehend that I hadn’t yet died, my head lifting from the ground to take in the sight of two pairs of boots before me.
A moment later still, before I lifted my eyes to look into the faces of the two men looming over my head.
I thought, for a second, that maybe I had died. Maybe I’d drowned after all, or maybe my mind was so addled by fear and adrenaline that I was seeing things.
Because the faces looking back at me were familiar. Too familiar.
