Page 72 of Fairies Never Fall

“You won’t.” He sits back. “I think I can help, if you want.”

My wings flutter with disappointment at the loss of his touch, but I stop myself from reaching out — I don’t feel in control of my body. “How?”

“I’ve been learning from Bear.” He holds up a familiar hank of crimson rope out of nowhere. My breath catches. “I was going to wait, but... maybe this is the right time. To me, it sounds like part of you is safe here, but another part of you is still stuck out there. You need to bring your awareness back together, to one place and one moment. Here. Now.” He puts his hand out palm-up. “What do you think?”

Slowly, I place my hand in his, claws and all. “Okay. Yes.”

He draws me to my feet. “Let’s get your clothes off.”

I’m helpless with my new spiky appendages, so I let Ezra maneuver my top off, followed by my pants. It’s a relief when he whisks them away and I don’t have to see the remnants of my favorite jacket. He runs his fingers over all my new protrusions gently, making me blush.

“Is this okay?”

His touch raises goosebumps. “I think so.”

Soon I’m completely naked, squirming under his gaze. A trickle of heat spills through me.

“On the bed,” he says.

I get back on the bed without a speck of my usual grace, tumbling clumsily onto the mattress when my ankle catches onthe bed frame. I grunt. A tearing noise comes from under my elbows and feathers burst from the duvet.

My sharp new teeth clash in frustration. “I can’t get used to this!”

“It’s okay.” Ezra picks up the rope, his voice firm and calm. “Put your hands together over your head. I’ll make sure you can’t hurt me or yourself.”

Ezra’s command seeps into my veins. I lift my hands. He rises over me, his scent filling my lungs, and a tiny bit of my tension drains away.

It’s different being tied up by Ezra than by Bear, and the contrast makes me tremble. Bear was utterly confident and completely clinical. Ezra is the opposite in all possible ways. His hands are unsteady on my wrists. The way he moves my arms carefully into position is tender and thoughtful. Every few seconds, his eyes dip and meet mine, and a tremulous smile dances at the corners of his mouth like he can’t contain it.

A jittery nervousness spills into the cavity of my chest, heat and hunger and something much, much stronger all vying for position in my heart. I ache to press into him. To pierce him with my thorns. To make his breath catch and his hands tighten. The desire disturbs me and heats my blood at the same time.

After the first few knots he gets faster and more self-assured, laying each one flush and just snug enough to make the shakiness inside me melt into sparks. I start to breathe quickly as his fingers rouse more interesting sensations, fire rising from deep inside and collecting between my legs. I squirm until he places a hand on my chest and presses down gently but firmly.

“Settle, sweets.”

My breath leaves me in a long sigh.

“Still doing okay?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” I whisper, embarrassed to tell the truth — I’m much more than okay.

“You’re shivering.” He pulls the rope snug. I can’t see what he does, but suddenly my arms are being drawn up tightly. He puts one foot on the floor and looms, arms straining with effort. His musk washes over me. Even in the half-dark, his pants bulge obviously with his arousal

My mouth waters. “Let me taste you.”

The rope smacks against the headboard and he swears. “Not yet,” he rumbles, but with my newly sharpened gaze I catch his bulge twitching.

He pulls back, leaving me tied to the headboard. I tug the ropes experimentally and they hold firm.

His gaze sweeps over me. “Damn. I mean it, Lysander. You’re beautiful like this.”

My face heats, and other parts of me are quick to follow. I force myself to look down at my ur-form. My normally smooth skin is covered in texture — rows of hard nubs along my hips and thighs, graduating to spikes along my lower legs. Hard ridges of deep blue protecting my ribs. Even my chest is rough and pebbled.

“Don’t look,” Ezra says as my pulse quickens. “Focus on me. Trust me. I have a plan.”

“I trust you,” I say immediately.

An uncharacteristically shy smile tugs at his lips. “I know, baby. I’ll try to be worthy of your trust.”

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