Page 65 of The Nightbound Soldier

He looks down at me, seemingly shocked by my forwardness.

I smile sweetly. “We could move to the buffet line.”

“Why are you wearing this?” he asks as he carries me to the buffet line.

Winter offers us a delicate salad on a tray. I take it and wink at her, her mating scent like fresh perfume teasing my senses. And Nottuza’s, I’m sure.

“You decided to call me a siren. I must make the best of the nickname and own it so that the rumor mill doesn’t think I’m hiding something. If they think I’m hiding it, they’ll gossip, and gossip like that can hurt the winter season.”

“You want the season to be a success even if people spread rumors about you?”

“People have all kinds of opinions about me. I’m at their disposal.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I don’t see why not. It comes with the territory.”

“Don’t you ever want privacy?”

“Sometimes.”

We arrive at the end of the line, where Evie pours us twoiankedrinks, traditional in the Winter Court. Nottuza thanks her, then turns around and stands there, scouting the seating arrangement. “Where are you sitting?”

“You mean where are we sitting?”

“I can’t stay.”

“You can.”

“I can’t. I will try to visit you tonight.”

“I’m not your whore.”

I spoke too loudly, and more than one lady gasps. Damn him. “You can’t just visit me at night. That’s not…that’s not what I want.” Might as well let it all out. Everyone heard me anyway.

Nottuza starts walking again, this time in the opposite direction from our table.

“Our table is over there.” I point.

“Are you sure you want to remain in company? You seem ready for a more private conversation.”

“I’m sure. People spent a lot of time preparing for this evening, and I must stay in attendance despite the fact this one handsome vampire is making me angry.”

“You get angry?” he teases.

“Everyone does.”

“What will you do about it?” He sighs and takes us to the table. He sits with me on his lap. I expected him to put me on the chair and walk away. Pleased he hasn’t, I wiggle on his lap, nesting my bottom, finding the perfect spot on his thighs where I’m most comfortable. There. Got it.

He notices I’ve settled and gives my bottom a firm squeeze, his gaze dropping to my breasts. They’re there for him to look at, and I like how it takes an effort for him to look up and into my face.

“I clearly see the sea moving in your eyes. How can these people not think you’re a siren? It’s right here as plain as my wardrobe.”

He’s wearing black on black with subtle stripes on the collar that mark him as a military general. His hair is always pulled back and neatly combed, his claws manicured, his appearance severe and organized, and even when he speaks, he speaks with precision, his sentences direct and concise.

“Maybe I’m a siren only for you.”

He chuckles. “You all think too highly of yourselves, refusing to accept that a female as beautiful and charming as you might not be a fae at all. At least not full-blooded. A siren lurks inside you.” He moves my dyed blue hair and sends shivers up my neck as his cold breath touches my warm skin. He whispers, “The siren is your predatory side, the one I wish to bend to my will.”

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