Page 40 of The Lost Fae
I guess with Lincoln being the more experienced of the two of us... I'll allow it. Turning back to the queen, I slip my hand under the table and rest my palm on Lincoln’s leg. The smallest of comforts.
"I don't know what you two keep getting at, because there is no way to exit The Lost Court. You enter and you stay." Her posture has gone noticeably stiff, her breathing shallower.
"I think that you know that isn't the truth." Lincoln leans toward her. "We've heard of The Lost Court before we arrived. Which means someone has made it back to tell the tale."
Her green cup, dotted with yellow flowers trembles in her grip as she brings it to her lips. I'm not sure that there is anything left in it at all, but she uses it to give herself time to think. My foot taps against the floor as I bounce my leg waiting for her response. She frowns at the repetitive noise and I force myself to stop.
"There is no exit," she repeats. "None that is known."
Words spill out of me at her vague answer. "And do the residents of The Lost Court know about your fountain? The one that washes away your wrinkles and keeps you young and living forever?"
Ziko laughs under his breath and shakes his head slightly. I'm not sure what he expected out of me. I'm not great at keeping quiet. Especially when I know things could be going so wrong in The Shadow Court.
Anastasia's face goes pale and I know we've got her right where we want her. I look at Lincoln, excited that I got one thing right. That my risk was not for nothing.
"What?" she rasps.
"Who all knows? Who's left to tell? If we're stuck here, I'll make it my mission to tell them all. How many of them will flock here for a chance to live forever? For the chance to look young again? To feel young again?"
The queen smacks her fist against the table bouncing the plates and silverware together. Her cheeks fume red but I keep talking.
"How long does it last? How often will they need to do it? Will they take it from you? Will it ruin your rule?"
"Enough," Anastasia growls. "I'll kill you before you ever have the chance to say a word."
The truth in her words rings out and strikes me hard in the chest. Lincoln drops a hand under the table, finds my grip and gives me a reassuring squeeze.
"You won't threatenmy queen."Ziko's chest hits the table, the only thing keeping him from reaching the queen and ripping out her throat. He bares his teeth in a wide snarl, a dare for her to even make an attempt. There's a flare of wildfire in his eyes. That same chaos lives inside of me. Something snaps, feral and passionate for our claim on one another.
"I'll tell you nothing, and if you want to challenge me, in my own home." Her voice starts to rise. "I'll show you how I've kept my rule here. You'll bow to me like every other, and you'll keep the secret if you know what's good for you!"
Except she doesn't plan on letting us go. Lincoln and I both know that. We won't walk out of this castle knowing what we do.
Is this enough for you to enter her mind?
On it.Lincoln stands from his chair, gently letting go of my hand. Heat radiates off of his body. Chairs scrape against the floor as he pushes them away roughly, making his way toward Anastasia. She lifts her chin, unafraid.
I actually like this stubborn streak in her. The errant thought comes and goes as Lincoln grabs the back of her chair and spins her toward him.
"You don't scare me." She stands, refusing to back down.
The signature devilish smirk shows off Lincoln's dimple and I know that he's inside her mind. I lean back in my seat and cross my legs.This should be fun.
"Sit down." Ziko presses a single finger against her forehead.
Anger still riddles her features, but her knees buckle as she lowers into her seat. The queen's mouth falls open as she looks down at her body, betrayed by the very action.
"You're... you're in my..." she takes a deep breath ready to shout, "Gu---"
"Ah, ah, ah," Lincoln purrs and she clamps her own mouth shut, the scream caught inside.
Sometimes there is something about watching a man be dominating that is so... so sexy. That is to say there are exceptions, but this moment isn't one of them. Heat curls below my stomach. I clench my thighs a little tighter.
"How do we get home?" he presses.
Her eye twitches. The air is torrid with her hatred and fury.
"Lincoln and I can be very patient," I purr.
