Page 101 of A House of Cloaks & Daggers

His head was tilted all the way back, giving them complete access, and his arms were loosely draped around their shoulders. I knew the third was licking the spilled blood from his chest, but the way her head was bobbing up and down as she knelt between his legs…

The High Lady slapped her hands down on her thighs, abruptly drawing my attention back to her. “Well, never mind all that. We show Enyd and her Court a good time, and we’ll be better off for it. Can I get you something to drink?”

My mouth was dry and papery. I nodded on instinct, but my hand came out to grab hers as she rose from her seat and turned towards the refreshments table. “Uh, faerie wine?”

Half of my focus was snared on Wren, like a second sight that always found its way to him. My head felt cloudy, but I had a distinct memory of humans losing more than their wits after consuming faerie wine.

I didn’t feel like I had much left to lose, so it seemed important to hold on to whatever was left.

Her mouth pulled up on one side. “I’m assuming you’d like to avoid it?”

“Please.”

The High Lady’s tinkering laughter lingered behind her as she made her way towards the curtained windows, and I resisted the urge to fold my legs beneath myself as I shrank into the couch and fought the desire to look back at Wren with every ounce of strength left in my body.

“It’s quite a crowd,” someone remarked, the piercing voice causing me to jump in my seat.

I looked up to find a tall, wide, large faerie standing in front of me with a warm smile curving the corners of her mouth. The action provoked a set of dimples, and though I knew the High Fae woman had to be decades older than me, I was struck by how adorable and sweet her facial features were.

The rest of her body was the complete opposite. Her figure was bold and proud, with rolls and curves emphasised beneath the silky green garment she wore, exposing freckled skin that appeared to be turquoise beneath the strange lighting.

“My name is Batre,” she said kindly, lowering herself to sit beside me. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I didn’t want to tell Batre that I hadn’t heard a single thing about her, so I offered her an uneasy smile and bowed my head. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She draped her long twin braids over one shoulder and inclined her head towards mine. “Full disclosure. I’m incredibly nosy. Have you felt it yet?”

Rolling my lips between my teeth, I followed her gaze across the room to where Lucais and Wren were lounging upon the dais. The three Vampyrs had disappeared, but the trace of their saliva and Wren’s blood still lingered on his bare chest and open white shirt in uneven lines of smudged darkness. His pants were still around his hips, but I couldn’t tell if his zipper was undone or not. I clenched my jaw, then relaxed it and clenched my fists instead.

“The pull?” Batre prompted. “That creeping, crawling feeling under your skin. Like an extra layer of flesh you can’t shake off.”

“Wren?”

She choked on a gasp of breath. “No,Lucais.” There was a quiet and disbelieving laugh before she whispered, “The mating bond?”

“Oh.” A breath whooshed out of me. My head swam with mortification.Of course she wasn’t talking about Wren.“Is that what it feels like?”

“For most people, I think so.”

I felt her looking at me, so I kept my gaze locked on the man sitting across the room. Sensing my attention, his golden eyes flared as he gazed back.

“No.” I shook my head too hard, too fast, and had to throw a hand out to brace myself against the arm of the couch. “I mean yes. I don’t know.”

Heart beating wildly, I willed the blood in my veins to cool. Wren’s eyes felt like knives pricking against my skin, slicing me to ribbons without drawing a single drop of blood. I glanced towards Lucais, his conversation with the winged faerieconcluded, and found that he was studying his glass of wine intently.

He didn’t return my gaze.

Why won’t he return my gaze?

“Batre!” Morgoya exclaimed, picking up her pace as she crossed the room. “Oh, my love. I told you to leave the poor thing alone tonight.”

The stunning woman at my side blushed, visible only because her freckles momentarily vanished, and gave me an apologetic sideways glance. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

Morgoya grimaced, affection clear in her eyes, but there was something else, too. Almost like guilt. She handed me a glass of clear liquid.

“Water?” I checked, sniffing it.

The High Lady gave me a withering look. “Of course.”

---