Page 7 of The Queen The Fae Forgot
It wasn’t until my feet were once again firmly planted on the ground and Icarus had begun taking a step away, that I realized why. His eyes still remained on mine, but with a new kind of frustration in his eyes as I discovered the weight of the blade I held now firmly pressed to the dark fae’s stomach.
Icarus’ lips pulled back with a snarl. “Once again, Aurra, you surprise me.”
I’d surprised myself.
At some point in the shift of footsteps, a blade had been pressed into my hand. I hadn’t seen who’d done it—Shiel or Zev or Finch—but whoever it was, I owed them my gratitude. They had the foresight to protect me even when I didn’t know I’d need the ability to protect myself. I’d taken the weapon on instinct, not even registering the shift of weight as it was given to me.
But at least, somehow, the part of me that was still desperate to survive this new cruel, fae world had the presence of mind to wield it.
Without my power, however new they might have been, I felt naked. Stripped. Exposed.
I’d have thought it strange, how quickly I’d come to rely on that dormant strength, if I hadn’t felt just that. The strength. One taste of the power I now held at my fingertips, as untrained as I might be, was enough.
Besides, that power had always been inside me, always running beneath the surface, just waiting to be released. So, for the first time in my life, I was truly, fully without it.
Even that, however, couldn’t explain the enormity of the dread that consumed me now that I faced the dark fae on my own, truly faced him, for the first time since we’d found ourselves entwined beneath the canopy of his courts’ sky. Even with the tip of that blade so advantageously placed, it wasn’t enough of an advantage. There was no advantage great enough to fully protect me from the creature at the end of my blade, but still, my grip on the hilt of my sword tightened, my knuckles turning white as I stared down Icarus at its end.
However close I’d been to be being consumed by that undeniable passion between us, there was one thing I couldn’t deny. Not for a moment, not even with the way my body reacted still, standing so close to him.
He had once been mine, or close to it.
But now he belonged to another, and not just any other.
The reminder of my sister was what it took for the fire in me to burn hot with hate once more, now, instead of lust.
Ada.
“Howdareyou.”
The words growled out from between teeth gritted too tight, so tight that my jaw ached as I struggled—and failed—to unclench it.
This fae before me was more than just my sister’s betrothed. He was her captor. He was a thief of her childhood, of her innocence, her very being.
He was the one responsible for Ada’s transformation, or perhaps worse, the theft of her likeness.
“Release her,” I growled again, my voice now the one so low and dangerous. “Undo whatever curse you’ve placed upon my sister and let her go.”
Icarus chuckled, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, my dear, you truly have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
“I know enough to know that you’re a monster,” I spat back, stiffening my grip on the sword once more. “And I won’t let you hurt her any more than you already have.”
Icarus took a step forward, his eyes glowing with a sickly green light. “You’re in no position to make demands, Little Queen.”
Little Queen.
The sound of the title, however coolly said, made my skin prickle. I bristled in reaction to the sound of it, as if he’d used a slur.
Of course, he noticed.
His head dipped slightly, though his eyes never left mine.
It was all I could do to keep from letting him completely unnerve me.
“I’m in the only position to make demands,” I said.
No sooner had the words slipped from my lips, however, then the room was filled with the grating metallic sound of my sword as it was knocked from my hand to clatter to the ground. Icarus did it so swiftly, so easily, that I hadn’t realized he’d done it until once more, there was nothing at all to stop our bodies from pressing together.
But this time, Icarus didn’t fill the gap. Only his hand lifted to trace my chin, the tips of his fingers teasing almost up to my bottom lip as he gently lifted my face up to look at him once more.
