Page 84 of Curse the Fae

In my periphery, Elixir’s gaze trails my lips before whipping toward the view. “When you say these things, I cannot respond. I do not…remember how the fuck to answer.”

Good. I speak to the panorama. “Then do you still want to drown me?”

“I never wanted that,” he whispers.

I shake my head because this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to cross paths with a dashing prince or a beautiful maiden. We were supposed to court each other, gift each other flowers, and murmur endearments into one another’s ears. My fantasy suitor and I were supposed to fall in pure, tender, uncomplicated love. We were supposed to get married and live happily ever after.

Once upon a time, I was destined to choose the hero or heroine. I wasn’t supposed to desire the villain.

“What are we?” My voice breaks. “Are we hateful enemies who’ve become reluctant enemies? Are we enemies who crave each other and became lovers for one moment in time? Because I know this can’t be about more. I know this for thousands of reasons. We can’t be anything but adversaries, much less friends, or even friendly, for that matter. And don’t get me started on becoming allies, because in what universe would that ever happen? So, what are we doing?” I implore. “Whatarewe?”

The questions simmer between us, impossible to grasp. I can’t muster a response.

However, Elixir can. I glimpse his face dipping to where our hands thread. Then his eyes lift and search for mine, and he inclines his head in a truce. “We are a human and a Fae, taking the time to know each other.”

And just like that, a grin tilts my lips upward.

23

On route to the boat from The Kelpie Rapids, I halt in the corridor and grab Elixir’s elbow. “What if there’s another way?”

He frowns. “Another way to what?”

I tell him about my goal, that I’m searching for a pattern in the river levels or clues to stop this world from deteriorating, to find some way that doesn’t involve games. Because he’s Elixir, he hasn’t admitted it, but his actions prove he wants me to be safe. He protected me in The Bask of Crocodiles. He choked Scorpio, then poisoned the merman for trying to harm me. Elixir may have used the public excuse that I’m the river’s newest sacrifice. Therefore, it’s necessary for me to live, to play the game.

Still, that’s not the only reason he defended me.

Upon hearing of my ambitions, Elixir’s features slacken with stupefaction, deference, and something close to humility. He shakes his head in amazement, then drizzles his knuckles down the side of my face. “You have been trying to help us?”

“All of us,” I declare, itching to cover his hand with mine.

Elixir continues to gaze at me, then he sighs. “There is no other way, Cove.”

“When was the last time you Faeries checked? You see things others can’t. You see inside me, for instance.”

“I did, for a time.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I cannot read you the same way any longer. The heat of your desire is still there, but not…” His scales radiate with color, the effect reminiscent of a blush. “I knew how to follow the sounds of your hate and lust, but I do not…” When he grunts, I hear the belligerent vulnerability. “I do not know how to follow the sound of your affection. I do not know what it sounds like.”

My heart twists. It seems the tides have reversed. Knowing what I do, I’m able to read him better, whereas he doesn’t understand the sound of emotions like fondness or love.

I cup that harsh jaw, which softens under my touch. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” He leans into my hand, his eyes drifting shut. “That is why we cannot fucking do this.”

“No, we can’t. But we already have.”

His eyes flap open. “And if I do not send you off in that boat at once, I shall take you in it.”

Heat rises from my toes to my lips. The craving simmers from me to him, our breaths growing shallow and hectic.

At the distant call of a water mammal, we vault from the trance and spring backward. Elixir scrubs his face, mutters something in frustrated Faeish, snatches my hand, and charges down the tunnel while scraping the nearest wall with his free digits. We walk quickly, quivering and in a sudden hurry.

Swiftly, he deposits me into the boat. “Go,” he snaps.

“Now,” I beseech the water, as if I will listen to me.

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