Page 97 of Quicksilver
Fisher stopped rubbing his temple. He watched me, following my every movement. The quicksilver in his right eye spun around his pupil like it was caught in a hurricane. When I was more than halfway through the soup, he picked up his own spoon and began to eat, too. “I watched you for a while back there. You fight well,” he murmured.
A compliment? From Fisher? Rather than filling me with pride, annoyance seethed beneath the surface of my skin. “And I bet you’resoshocked. A female human, holding her own against a Fae warrior. That must have grated something fierce.”
He gave me an arch look. “No. I wasn’t shocked. You can tell by the way a person moves if they’ve had training. I knew from the first moment I saw you on your feet that you could fight. But don’t get ahead of yourself, Osha. Ren was going easy on you.”
“You don’t think I could have taken him?” Even I knew I couldn’t have. Of course I did. But it still was fun to bait Fisher into thinking I was serious.
But Fisher didn’t take the bait. “He wouldn’t be the general of this army if you could have.” He nodded toward me as Iswallowed down a mouthful of soup. “So youarecompliant sometimes,” he said softly.
I paused, another spoonful of soup halfway between my mouth and the bowl. “Amazing, isn't it? People prefer to acquiesce to a request rather than being forced to follow a command. Who’d have known.”
He slid his own spoon into his mouth, eyes quick and sharp, the muscles in his neck working as he swallowed. I could make out the tattoos on the back of his hands now, all too well. Both of them were Fae runes. The intricate, interlocking lines of them shifted and moved across the surface of his skin, the pattern changing and evolving even as I watched. I looked away. “Why do you even want me to be compliant?” I asked. “Cowing people, having power over them...is that what you want? Like Belikon? Is that whatdrivesyou?”
His expression shuttered at the mention of his stepfather. He quickly recovered, but his jaw took on a hard set as he plucked a bread roll from the basket. “Power isn't something I've ever thirsted after, Little Osha,” he said quietly. “And I am nothing like the king.”
“I didn't think so. So why are you so determined to control everything that I do? Are humans just...justslaveshere? Is that it?”
He laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. “Humans have never been slaves here. At least not to the Yvelians. When we were blighted with our blood curse thousands of years ago, you were definitelydinner. But never slaves.”
The blood curse. The one he'd spoken of before, back in the halls of the Winter Palace. He'd said the sharp canines the Fae still possessed were a remnant of that curse. Were their children born with them, though? Or had Kingfisher been alive then? Had he suffered under the curse and then been freed from it?Every Fae I'd seen had elongated teeth, so I doubted that was the case. It was more likely that they were part of their genetics now.
Fisher locked eyes with me. “I want you to obey me becauseIbrought you here. That makes me responsible for you. And I need you alive so that you can work on those rings for us. Without them, we'll be trapped in this stalemate with the Sanasroth forever, neither side winning nor losing. I'll never be able to reclaim my family's lands. So, yes. Iwillforce you to obey me if I need to. And I won't feel conflicted about it. The stakes are too high.”
“Have you paused to consider that I mightwantto stay alive? That I'd do whatever it was you wanted me to do if you just explained why it was important to my well-being?”
He regarded me, hair curling into his face, half obscuring his eyes. A rush of something hot and not entirely unpleasant burned right behind my breastbone. It wasn't just how he looked. There was something else there, too. Something that made my body come alive. His scent, and the way I knew that he'd entered a room before I saw him, and the melancholy tug at the root of my soul whenever hewasn'tin a room, and—
Fisher tore his gaze from mine, looking down at his bowl. “My way is a lot faster,” he whispered. “You can't be risked. Those rings can't be risked. All of this hangs in the balance.”
I slammed down my spoon. “You'reincorrigible!”
“I don't know what that means.”
“Yes, you fucking do!”
“All right. I do. What's your point?”
“I want to help you, Fisher! I'll do it gladly. I might not understand your people or even believe that everyone in this realm deserves saving, but that's not my judgment call to make, is it? For some reason, I have this weird ability that can help protect Yvelia from being ravaged by a tide of corrupted, bloodthirsty monsters. I've seen what they're capable of. I knowhow horrifying they are, and I wouldn't wish them upon anyone! Can't you justtrustthat I—”
Black shadows spilled from Fisher's fingers. Smoke roiled up the table legs and swept across the tabletop like morning mist rolling across a field. It swallowed our food, the wicker basket, everything. With a crash, the table flipped, toppling to the floor, and then Fisher was on his feet, lifting me out of my chair, lifting me from the ground...crossing the tent. My back slammed up against something solid and hard—a bookcase?—but it wasn't the shock of the pain that ripped the air from my lungs. It was Fisher's mouth.
His lips crashed down onto mine. For a brief moment, I didn't react. I'd slipped into a daydream. This was a fantasy. It wasn't...it wasn'treal.
But the second his tongue moved past my lips, past my teeth, and I tasted him, and I felt the blast of his breath against my face, I knew better. Itwasreal. Shockingly so...and I wanted it more than I wanted air. Casting off my shock, I wrapped my legs around his waist, hooking my feet at the ankles behind his back. I threaded my fingers into his hair, and I kissed him back like my life depended on it. He held me in place, pinning me against whatever was behind me, which freed his hands to move to my waist. They didn't stay there long. I let out a sharp moan as Fisher's hands found my breasts. He kneaded the swell of my flesh, pinching one of my nipples through my shirt, and a wave of need crested between my legs. I became hyper-aware of him. Of all the places where our bodies were connecting. I was touching him. Touching him everywhere. He was hard-packed muscle and hot, demanding breath, and the scent of fresh, cool mountain wind, and mint, and the forest at night, and—
“Gods!Fisher!”
His mouth was at my neck. My skin exploded into goosebumps as he kissed and laved at the sensitive skin there,the wet, scorching heat of his tongue running up the column of my throat surprising me so badly that I moaned out loud.
“Fuck.”He snarled the guttural curse into the crook of my neck, at the same time driving his hips upward so that I felt...oh,gods.His cock was trapped between our bodies, and he wassofucking hard. With my legs locked around his waist, he was lined up perfectly against me. The pressure he applied when he rocked his hips upward sent my brain scattering in a thousand different directions.
Oh...
Fucking...
I needed...
“Fisher!” I cried out his name.
