Page 128 of A Dance With Fire
This moment felt more like a fight, primal and wild. It felt a lot like magic. Like hatred.
She pulled the hatred from his tongue with her own, tasting the chocolate in his mouth. She would have been content with devouring him for days, years.
But it lasted seconds.
Minutes.
And then Ryker pulled away, the harshness of their breaths mingling between the spaces of their lips. Slowly, it seemed like things settled back to reality. This was the aftermath of the explosion. Of burning.
Nothing but ashes and pain.
And a hatred that tasted a lot like chocolate.
With an almost visceral awareness, Ryker pulled away. Shula fought the urge to cry out and wrap her legs around him. Instead, she propped herself up on her palms and stared. Wishing for a moment that hatred and desire weren’t so similar, because she didn’t know which one exactly burned in the depths of Ryker’s eyes.
“Goodnight, Fire Dancer.” He turned and walked away on quieter footsteps.
Leaving her to heal the pain on her own.
43
WANTED: Alive and Intact
There was always so much work to do at an inn. Between the washing of clothes, windows, dishes, scrubbing the floors, cleaning the wax off tapers and tables, changing sheets, making beds, helping Cook in the kitchen, and busting tables… It barely gave Filomena time to breathe, let alone think.
And all she wanted to do was think about the secret guests hiding upstairs.
Filomena had never seen Fae up close until the night before. The moment they’d walked through the back door of the kitchen, she’d only caught flashes of feral, glowing eyes beneath their hoods. Then she’d taken the food up to their rooms and gotten her first glimpse of them.
Ethereal beauty came to mind. They were all too beautiful to be human. Even with hollowed cheeks and shadows beneath their eyes, they were something out of this world, so obviously not mortal. Their beauty was all sharp, elegant edges that cut like daggers.
The only female of the group was softer than the others, with rounded ears instead of pointed. Half-Fae perhaps? But she had the regal beauty of a full-blooded Fae.
They were a frightening bunch, but Filomena didn’tfearthem. Rather, for them. Especially that afternoon when the inn’s dining room filled with humans, two of them soldiers of Illyk.
Her fingers fumbled with the pitcher of ale as she walked cautiously over to the table they occupied. The soldiers always made her nervous; every soldier she’d ever met held the same thing in their eyes: cruelty.
These ones were no different.
She poured ale into their tankards, trying to keep her fingers firm. Her eyes kept straying to their faces. Hardened like leather, their skin pulled tightly against their strong bone structure. Beards peppered along their jawlines, and their bodies were clad in tight leather that overlapped like the scales of fish. Iron shoulder pads jutted in sharp points out from their uniforms. Simple sacks hung from their shoulders.
Before she could turn away, one of the soldier’s stopped her with a curt call. “Maid!”
She froze mid-step, fingers tightening along the handle. But she remembered she had to be obedient. If she showed even the slightest bit of rebellion, they’d likely use force against her. So she smiled prettily, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He rummaged within his bag and pulled out a roll of parchments. “By order of the Emperor of Illyk, every locale is to place these posters on their walls. To refuse is treason.” His voice was forceful and cruel, and he was staring at her with an imperious smirk tilting his mouth.
Like he was begging her to refuse. Like he wanted a reason to strike out.
Filomena wouldn’t give him one.
“Of course. I will tell Imogen, the innkeeper, and she will follow the great Emperor of Illyk’s orders.”
Using one hand to hold the pitcher, she used the other to reach for the rolled parchments. The moment her fingers enclosed around them, the soldier’s hand clamped around her wrist and he yanked.
Filomena all but fell forward, her stomach jamming into the edge of the table. She wanted to fight. Everything within her body screamed for her to fight back, but she pushed back that urge. It would only bring on so much worse.
Her heart slammed up to her throat and his touch felt like poison. It was a sensation that made her want to shed her own skin, to wear one his vile hands hadn’t touched. Unfortunately, she was familiar withthattoo.
