Page 9 of The Queen The Fae Forgot
It was not, however, entirely true … because the image of Icarus blackened and broken wasn’t the only one that came to mind when I thought back on the dark fae.
I’d not often let myself think about the shape of Icarus there before me in the dark, of how he felt beneath my touch, beneath my body. But now, here, before him, despite all the warring, angry thoughts within me, that was the image now that came to mind. That was the feeling that sprung forth in me, the feeling of him and the desire that it dragged back up, unbidden, from some dark, depraved part of me.
Icarus knew this, too, of course.
He took in a deep breath, and despite the fact that we were not within the boundaries of his forest, of the Wildness that had once called so deeply to me, I felt as if he could scent my own truth perfume the air between us.
How could he not, when it was already stretched so thin between my rapid breaths?
A slight, wicked smile teased the corner of Icarus’ mouth. His eyes left mine, only to roam the lines of my face as if he was seeing an old friend nearly forgotten, as if he was re-memorizing me.
“I’ve missed your fire.”
This answer, of all he’d said to me, caught me off guard.
I choked on my own response for a second, before finally steeling myself up. “What do you want, a prize for doing an evil thing in the kindest way possible?”
“Yes, perhaps I do.”
“Then go fetch your prize. She waits for you just outside that door. If you’re telling the truth, and she’s come willingly, then that shouldn’t be a problem.”
For a moment, we stood at a standstill.
The tension between us was palpable again, more tangible than the wall pressed to my back or the ground beneath my feet. It clouded every other thought and feeling until there was nothing at all but me and Icarus, Icarus and me. I’d challenged him, but he’d given no indication whether he was going to take my challenge or throw it back at me. He was unreadable, unpredictable, unescapable—feelings that had grown all too familiar when it came to the dark fae before me.
And still, it came as a surprise when he once more stepped forward and pressed his lips to mine.
It was a kiss both sweet and savage, now, less bruising than the one before—both too brief for me to have a chance to break it, and yet long enough for me to feel the moment I melted into it, into him, before he broke away.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the kiss ended, and so was the momentary spell that bound Icarus and me together. That brief reprieve from the rest of our world, and all it encompassed, was over before it truly began, and as it returned, so did all the complications woven into it.
“You’re right,” Icarus said as my eyes opened to meet his again. “Your sister, she’s outside … waiting for me. But you’re wrong about one thing. This is not just a game to me. No, it is so much more than that, but you … you will always be a prize. My prize. And despite it all, despite everything, I intend to have you.”
With that, his arm flew back and the door unsealed. He was gone before I had the chance to draw in breath, his absence leaving me alone with my own twisted desires.
I’d known I was in too deep from the beginning, but I hadn’t realized until that moment that I was already drowning.
CHAPTERFOUR
There waslittle time to discuss with Shiel, Zev, and Finch what had passed between the dark fae and me in the moments we were alone together.
There was little time to discuss anything.
True to my mother’s words, we’d barely all gathered together in the hall, ready to be led away by the queen’s waiting guard, before we were, instead, summoned back to her side. This time, however, it was not to some quiet study where we were called. We were brought directly to the throne room.
I’d thought the rest of the castle was impressive, but it was nothing compared to the splendor we found stretching before us. The throne room was immense, large enough to house a crowd that numbered in the hundreds. Windows lined three of the walls, great narrow slits of sparkling glass on either side, leading up to a massive ruby-inlaid spectacle that caught the light of the still-rising run and cast a shattered red and white glow down on the throne before it.
And there, on the throne, sat my mother. The queen’s posture was rigid, one hand outstretched to grasp a glass and ruby scepter. The other clutched the arm of the throne just a little too tight. At her side, my uncle stood, his hair nearly the same color of the rubies set into the intricate glasswork at his back. The two of them wore the same expression of resolve, whatever plan they’d hatched clearly already underway.
I had no idea what to expect.
I only knew that we were not alone with them, not by far.
“A bit much for a friendly chat, isn’t it?”
Finch was the one to say it, his eyes darting to the side at the dozen guards marching alongside us—and then up ahead to the other two dozen ready to protect the throne.
Shiel’s voice was the next to growl out. “They’re certainly making a statement.”
