Page 46 of Thief of Souls
“If you kill her, then we lose our chance at the horn,” I warn.
“Fuck. The. Horn,” he enunciates very clearly, a strange light in his eyes.
Heat bleeds out of me. I can’t lose this chance. I can’t. If Keir ruins this entire situation because of some sort of overweening fae arrogance, then I’m dead.
“Don’t you dare.” I grab another fistful of his cloak and realize I’ve got it all bunched around his throat. “Stop thinking with your pride. Whoever gets the horn has the power to find the cauldron. I know she insulted you, but—”
“Insultedme?”
It’s like trying to wrestle a runaway carriage that outweighs me by a thousand pounds. “Yes,” I hiss. “I’m the one with the curse looming over their head. So you can take your territorial foot stomping and put a fucking leash on it.”
He freezes.
It’s not, as immediately suspected, an improvement in the situation.
Keir captures my chin in one hand. “Let me be perfectly clear since you seem to be leaping to the wrong conclusions. I don’t give a fuck about the insult, or my pride, or any of this so-called territorial foot stomping. If she snaps that curse shut then you are dead. And I willnothave that.”
I suffer a moment where I have no fucking idea what that means.
And then it comes crashing down on me.
He’s… angry because he thinks I’m going to get hurt.
“Because you won’t be able to find the horn,” I whisper, trying to reel in all my conflicting feelings.
His thumb strokes the curve of my neck. “Oh, Zemira. The lies you tell yourself….Yes,” he hisses, pressing closer. “Because I need you to find the horn. Because if she steals you from my side, she’s insulting me. Because this is a game, and all I care about are the whims of foolish little fae princes. Do any of them feel like the truth?”
I can’t look away from him. His eyes blaze and I realize I have a furious dragon by the collar, and I don’t know how to defuse the situation, because I truly don’t know why he’s so angry.
He must see it in my eyes. “I will kill her because this is not the first time she’s dared attack you. Last night can be forgiven—she didn’t know who you were. But now she has no excuse. I will kill her because you aremineand she hurt you. I will kill her because I promised myself I would protect you. No matter what the cost.”
Kill her?My eyes widen.Mine? What is this?
“Stay here,” he says, trying to push me aside. “I will be back.”
He’s going to ruin everything and in so doing, cast me to the wolves. Or, to be more precise, my father’s lack of mercy.
There’s only one thing to do—
I kiss him.
There’s a moment of stillness as if I caught him by surprise. Hands lock around my forearms as if he seeks something to steady him.
And then, it’s as though he surrenders utterly to the sensation. Keir kisses me hard, shoving me back against the door, his soft mouth claiming me. His tongue lashes against mine, the stone wall of his chest pressed firmly against me.
I knew his body was carved of pure marble by some long-ago artisan who conjured him into flesh, but the sensation of it…. All that muscular flesh pressing me into the door, grinding me there until we’re practically struggling for breath and surrender, steals my wits.
Maybe we aren’t the ones fighting—maybe we were fighting our own desires—because it feels as though desperation twines itself through my body.
I need to kiss him.
I need his hands on my skin.
His tongue in my mouth.
I need this like I need air. Or water.
He kissed me once, his oath biting into my lips and drawing blood. At the time I was frightened and reeling, and though the memory of that kiss has replayed itself a thousand times over in my head, it wasn’t entirely something enjoyable.
