Page 10 of Clash of Storms
Clearly, the Great Goddess Tiamat—who had created thedrekirace—could not be relied upon to disburse fate with an even hand.
Because Sirius Blackfrost wore the mantle of devastatingly handsome with heart-melting appeal.
He was no Prince Charming from the precious fairy tale collection her mysterious admirer had given her.
No. The Huntsman perhaps.
Or the Wolf.
"Oh, look at the mutiny brewing there," Sirius taunted, taking a step closer to her. "What are you picturing right now, Lady Malin? Stabbing me in the chest with my own knife?"
Considerably lower. "I would never imagine such a thing."
"Of course not. How dare I presume I feature in any of yourfantasies?"
Every inch of the word conjured thoughts she shouldn't be thinking.
And it was as if he sensed it.
His expression shifted, growing more intent. "Unless, of course, you quite like the thought of having me at your mercy? Is that what you picture, Lady Malin? Do I beg you? For mercy?"
Naked skin. Him on his knees. His hands bound behind his back. Begging her....
Malin's breath trapped itself in her throat behind a large lump. Sirius always had that effect upon her, but this was worse, because he'd painted a picture that intrigued her. Not herself as prey, but the one with the upper hand.
Powerful.
Bold.
With this fierce prince on his knees before her....
She was fairly certain if she released her breath, it would come out in a squeak. And then he'd be delighted, because she would sound exactly like a cursed mouse.
"I— I do not think of you at all."
"Liar."
I hate you, she told him with her eyes.
Are you certain? You look like you want to eat me alive,he replied with a smoldering smirk.
Silky dark brown hair tumbled down his back, half of it gathered back in a leather thong to keep it out of his face. His eyes were so very blue.
Blue, like the heart of a glacier. Blue like sunlight glazing off an icy tundra. Blue like the color of lupines on a mountainside. The merciless dark of his pupils locked on her like blots of ink, his thick, heavy brows drawing together in a faint notch in the middle.
He had a smile that could steal a woman's soul and condemn a man to death. A smile like the kiss of a blade, though twice as ruthless.
But he wasn't smiling now.
No. It was pure, unrelenting smirk.
Because he'd beaten her. Gotten the response he wanted from her, in this immature, childish game they both employed. All she had to do was ignore him and retreat behind the meek and mild servant's persona that drove him crazy, and she would have been victorious.
"That's better," Sirius murmured, and she realized she was staring into his dangerous eyes, half-hypnotized and drowning in blue.
And worse, he was enjoying it.
"Now tell me more about your fantasies. I'm intrigued, Lady Malin. Because it's quite clear you are too."
