Page 97 of A Fate of Ice and Lies
“Can you read my mind?” I asked him. “I was just imagining you feasting on me, and well. . .”
He took his first bite of the burger and grinned. “So good,” he said between chewing. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t read your mind the way Nalari and I communicate with our minds. But your face is expressive andeasy to read. Plus”—he grinned—“I can smell you.” He sniffed. “Your arousal is delicious.”
Holy shit. Hecouldsmell my arousal.
To hide my embarrassment, I took a huge bite of my burger.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said through another mouthful. “Look at me.” He gave me an adorable, boyish grin. “How could you resist all this?”
I snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
“Nalari’s called me far worse.”
I stayed quiet for a few minutes, watching him as he closed his eyes and groaned with almost every bite. It was a delight seeing him experience things for the first time. Both funny and kind of sweet.
“I take it you liked your burger?” I raised my brows at the way he licked his fingers once his food was gone.
“The people in Niev would die for a single bite of this.”
Full, I offered him my half-eaten burger. His eyes widened in protest, but I insisted, letting him know I couldn’t eat anymore.
“Do you miss Niev?” I asked him.
He lowered the burger. “I do,” he said.
“What do you miss most?”
“Most.” He scratched his chin. “I don’t know. I miss my parents and the people. The tavern . . . yeah, I miss the tavern too. And we have this beautiful lake that I always thought was a perfect shade of blue until I saw your eyes. Your eyes put the lake to shame.”
This man and his words. I swear he could probably make Hee-haw trip over his hooves.
I took a sip of the wine he’d brought. “Why don’t you go back?”
Please don’t go back.
He swallowed and lowered his head. “I was banished. I can’t go back.”
My heart thudded, and I knew—I knew why he’d been banished. Knew the commander was right when he’d said our fall had been Elias’s fault.
“Why were you banished?” I asked in a low whisper.
I played with the stem of the glass, not sure I wanted to hear his answer. But I had to know.
When he tipped his head back up to look at me, his violet eyes had faded in color. “Because I broke the most important rule the Guardians had given us. I ripped through the veil and brought you this endless winter.”
He drew in a shuddering breath while I fisted my glass to my chest.
“You came here?” It came out so low I wasn’t sure he heard me. “You brought us this winter? Destroyed my world?”
His silence was the confirmation I needed. Yet I wasn’t angry or surprised. I was frustrated and sad and confused.
“When you ripped through the veil,” I said, using his words, “did you know what you would do to my world?”
His throat bobbed on another swallow while he worked his jaw back and forth. I waited, needing him to confirm or deny.
“Yes,” he forced out.
My eyes burned with the threat of tears, and I rubbed my nose. “Why?” I asked. “Why did you do it, Elias?”
