Page 9 of Insurrection
That was fair. Finias was seriously like no one else I’d ever met before.
Drayven's eyes glowed with his power once more as they fixated on where Finias was touching me. It probably pissed him off that someone was giving me the time of day and treating me like an attractive woman instead of some diseased hybrid to be avoided at all costs.
The Reaper’s jaw clenched, and I imagined his teeth were probably grinding themselves down to stumps. I was quite enjoying seeing him so riled up, so I decided to play into it further. My hand snaked around Finias so that I was wrapped snugly against his lean body.
Glancing up at the elf who had appeared from the shadows and made my heart flutter, I bit my lip as I once again appreciated how gorgeous he really was. There was a sort of feminine beauty to his high cheekbones and full, light pink lips. His head turned slightly down towards me, and he tossed a wink at me while whispering, "This is the most fun I've had in ages. How about you?"
Another giggle bubbled out of me, and I mentally chided myself. Why did I sound like an excited school girl being flirted with for the first time? I just couldn't help it. Finias' cheeky yet confident attitude had inexplicably drawn me to him, and I wanted to peel back his layers and learn more.
"I think riling Drayven up might be my new favorite hobby," I joked back, though I thoroughly meant it. A glint entered Finias' eyes as he leaned down towards me, his plush lips descending dangerously close to my own. He stopped a mere inch away, and his breath fanned my face, a minty scent accompanying it as he asked, "Can I rile him up further?"
His intentions were astoundingly obvious, his eyes dropping to my lips, which had parted at his question. My cheeks warmed, a blush staining them at his forwardness. I couldn't deny that I wanted to feel how his lips felt against mine.
Now, how did I explain to Finias that I couldn’t kiss him because I could kill him,withoutscaring him off?
"I think you look like trouble, and I think you need to leave before I make you," Drayven finally answered, shattering the moment between us. Damn him.
Finias instantly straightened, his arm tightening against me as he tutted back, "I don't take well to threats, and I don't think your king would be happy to hear you've threatened the prince of the House of Runes."
I would have chopped my arm off to have a picture of Drayven's horrified expression framed and hanging on my ceiling to stare up at for eternity. Somehow his skin paled further—a feat I hadn’t thought possible for someone from the House of Death—and his eyes widened in shock.
While I’d thought Drayven had been afraid of insulting a prince from another house, his words contradicted my thoughts. "Ama, get away from him. Now. He's a trained assassin."
What the fuck?
My eyes flew to Finias' face, and he didn't bother denying Drayven’s claim as he stared right back at Drayven. "I might have killed people in the past, but I still know how to treat a woman with respect. Can you say the same?"
Fucking burn.
For some reason, Finias’ admission of what he was didn't scare me in the slightest. Maybe it should have, but the thought of blood staining his hands didn't change the gut feeling I had about him. Instinctively, I knew he wouldn't harm me, especially with the way he had immediately moved to protect me when Drayven spat my name out earlier.
I pulled away from Finias, and the hurt that crossed his face melted my heart. He probably thought I’d pulled away in fear, but that wasn't the case. I held my hand out for him to take as I asked, "Care to accompany me inside, Mr. Assassin Creeper?"
He entwined our fingers and laughed softly, a warm affection infiltrating his gaze and making my pulse pick up. "I'd love nothing more, my butt warmth buddy."
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Ama?" Drayven growled sharply, his voice rising in volume and pulling our focus back to him. "I tell you the man is a literal assassin, and your first instinct is to hold hands with him? You seriously are lacking some fucking brain cells. You’re going to get yourself killed. I won't allow this."
My head jerked back for multiple reasons. For one, I was not the type of woman who was going to be told what I could and couldn't do.He wouldn’t allow it?It was as if this man was custom built to hit all the buttons that would infuriate me.
Secondly, he’d actually sounded like he gave a shit about my safety for a brief second there, and that made me more uncomfortable than anything else that had happened today. Including holding hands with a hot assassin.
"The day you openly mocked and rejected me after stealing my first kiss was the same day you lost any right to act like you gave a shit about me," I responded with a brisk chill to my tone, trying to signal that this conversation was over. Somehow, I didn’t think the man got the message.
"Let's go inside, Finias," I moved forward, pulling on his hand as I looked back at him, semi-frozen in place and staring over me at Drayven.
"Call me Fin," he answered, finally coming out of whatever trance he’d just been in.
We crossed the space to where Drayven stood. At the last second, as I turned to take the path to the castle, Finias crossed behind me. Before I could even blink, his fist connected with Drayven's face, dropping the large Reaper to the ground.
His head cracked against the ground, making me wince.Shit.How Fin had managed to knock out a man who probably doubled him in muscle and weight was beyond my comprehension, but Drayven was out cold.
"That's for making her first kiss such a shit memory," Finias seethed at Drayven's unmoving body before running his hand through his shaggy white hair and walking back to me.
He grabbed my hand softly, as if nothing had happened, and strode forward, "We can go inside now."
My open mouth slammed shut, and I fluttered my eyes as I tried to take in what had just happened while walking towards the castle entrance with him.
Had he really just hit a man for something that happened years ago that he wasn't even around for? For a woman he had known less than an hour?
