Page 47 of Destined for the Fae King

But I might as well be trying to move a tree for all that he budges.

“What…” He stares at my hand on his arm like it’s an alien thing then back toward the direction I’d just come from.

Another ungentle tug and his attention whips back to me.

His gaze narrows. “There’s something there.”

Shit.Maybe they’re done. Maybe he wouldn’t see anything too damning, but every instinct in me screams that’s not the case. He rolls his shoulder, trying to pull free from my grip, and I panic.

“Lysandir.” I practically jump in front of him, blocking the way back. “Please.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, a slight widening of his eyes that makes me think he’s listening to me. But then he glances past me, and my stomach drops straight to the ground.

So, I do the only thing that I know will stop him.

I grab his face with both hands, stretch up on the tips of my toes, and drag him down until I smash my lips against his.

The reaction is instant. My body jolts like I’ve been shocked. My chest constricts like my ribs are trying to reach my spine, and there’s a sudden wobble in my legs that wasn’t there a moment ago.

The kiss should be nothing. A distraction. A con.

But God, it feels like I’ve been knocked down by a wave and swept under. And those are Lysandir’s arms wrapping around me, holding me up and cradling me like I’m something precious. At some point, I closed my eyes, and I open them, catching sight of his soft lashes along his closed lids. Something caught between a sigh and a moan rumbles amid our kiss, and he pulls me tighter.

Like he feels something too. Like this isn’t a farce.

Like I’m not bound to his brother and trying to become his bride.

That thought douses me in ice, and I pull back, breathing hard and head spinning. Lysandir lets me go but not fully. His strong palm still rests against my lower back, the touch firm and possessive in a way that melts something in me.

But it shouldn’t. It’s not him I’m supposed to want, damn it.

Lysandir’s eyes flutter open. The pupils are blown wide, leaving his eyes dark. His chest rises and falls, and all his attention is glued to my face.

“Mira.”

The way he says my name has my insides flopping over themselves. He fills it with so much—heat and fire that have nothing to do with his magic. I can almost understand why women swoon.

A crunch of gravel and rustle of the hedges are the only warning before Adeline and her guard round the corner, but it’s enough. Lysandir drops his hand and steps back so quickly I nearly fall, and do end up leaning back against the hedge, its stiff branches poking into my back.

“Oh, hello!” Adeline’s voice is a little too high. “We thought we heard someone else here.”

The giggle that comes out is so forced and off it’s a dead giveaway for her nerves. The guard doesn’t look at us, instead keeping his eyes averted toward the ground like a scolded kid caught stealing a cookie. Or in this case, a kiss.

Look more guilty, why don’t you?

I recognize him now. Erymis, the guard assigned to her. He’s the same one she often talks to after yoga. I thought it was just friendship, but clearly I was way wrong.

I shove off the bushes, wincing as a branch scrapes my forearm. “I just got a little overwhelmed at the party and Prince Lysandir walked with me to make sure I was okay.” I spear him with a glance that dares him to say otherwise. “Very gallant of him.”

“Oh, me too.” Adeline shoves at her hair as if that could fix the section at the back that the guard thoroughly mussed. “Erymis kept me company. It was so nice of him.”

Erymis studiously avoids looking at us and gives a little bow. “Since Lady Adeline has companions once more, I shall depart.”

His words still hang in the air when he vanishes.

“Erymis …” The dejection in her voice is so clear it’s a wonder Lysandir hasn’t mentioned anything about it. In fact, he hasn’t spoken a word, and I’ve been too nervous to even look at him.

“Walk with me.” I slide my arm through Adeline’s and tug her alone like we’re two Victorian ladies on promenade.

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