Feeling brazen, I sat on his lap and cupped his face in my hands. "Now I show you that I love you too."
"You do? Love me, I mean?"
"Yes. Very much."
His eyes turned smoky. "And how are you going to show me?"
I kissed him, deeply and completely, and he responded by thrusting his fingers into my hair, dislodging the pins. My heart soared. I felt as though I would burst from my skin it was so tight and hot. We had kissed before but this time there was no hesitation, no testing or teasing, just unadulterated desire. I'd never felt more alive. This was how magic should feel, like my veins were glowing and I was alight from within.
We only parted when we both needed air.
"I am yours, India," he murmured against my lips, "and I will marry you."

"I don't want to move until I know your watch is fixed. When Dr. Millroy's son is found, and we've infused our magic into the watch, I'll move out."
His finger stopped tapping. His gaze narrowed. "There'll be no need to move then. I plan on giving you every reason to stay…as my wife."
My heart stopped dead in my chest. No, not now. I wasn't ready for this conversation or the argument that would follow when I explained that I cared too deeply about him and his aunt to bring him down to my level. I looked away because the confusion in his eyes clawed at my heart.
"India?"
I shook my head and stood. He caught my wrist and when I still wouldn't look at him, he repeated my name, only gruffer.
"Something is bothering you, and I want to know what," he said. "Is it because you don't think I'll get better?" When I didn't respond, he went on. "Are you worried I'll want to return to America? Because I don't care where I live."
"Let me go, Matt."
"Is it the Johnson side of my family? I know they're a little frightening, but they won't bother to come here." He paused. "India, look at me. Talk to me."
Bristow cleared his throat...

— Non mais tu te crois où ? hurlai-je d’une voix suraiguë. T’as jamais entendu parler d’une sonnette ? Comment es-tu entré ?
— T’as laissé la fenêtre de ta chambre ouverte.
— La moustiquaire était fermée.
— Les moustiquaires n’arrêtent que les moustiques.

Je me demandai si neuf heures du matin était trop tôt pour boire de la bière. Évidemment, à Moscou, il devait être quatre heures de l’après-midi. Vendu !

Le jour suivant fut pire ; les heures s’étaient figées dans une poisse cafardeuse, et j’avais les nerfs à vif d’attendre que le temps passe. Ce qu’il faisait, mais à une allure de limace, et de limace pas pressée. Avec des pauses. Des pauses si longues que parfois, je le soupçonnais de revenir en arrière… Je ne sais trop comment, je touchai au soir sans avoir transformé ma ceinture en nœud coulant. Je n’en étais pas moins à deux doigts de crever d’ennui quand j’entendis du bruit dans la rue ;

Nous abandonnions ce pays de cocagne, car devant nous se dressaient les collines de Vieufié.
J’aurais bien aimé avoir une petite conversation avec le plaisantin qui avait donné le nom de « collines » à ce massif : sans doute un cosmographe de cour qui n’avait jamais mis les pieds hors des jardins paysagés de Chrysophée, à l’époque du vieux royaume. En tout cas, je peux jurer que la pente qui vous coupait le souffle et les jambes, quand vous attaquiez le piémont de Vieufié, vous chassait de l’esprit tout espoir de promenade dans une campagne aimablement onduleuse. Ça grimpait sec !

“Was it a good kiss?” Zenia asked, bemused that her friend, who’d once had a different man visit her room every week one summer, would be moved by a kiss.
“It was.” Rhi rocked back, her hand to her chest and her expression somewhere between dumbfounded and delighted. “I wasn’t expecting him to know how to use his tongue, to be honest, because he seems like someone who wouldn’t be that experienced…”
Zenia fought down a blush, not wanting to admit to her own scant experience in such matters. She hoped Jev didn’t mind.
“But he was so sweet and at the same time… intriguing. And you could tell he actually cared about me enjoying myself. And I did. You should have seen the dream I had last night. I hope I wasn’t groaning and squirming since those hammocks are close together and completely lacking in privacy.”
Now, Zenia’s cheeks heated for a different reason. This was far more than she wanted to know about Hydal or Rhi’s dreams about Hydal.
[...]
Rhi sighed and slumped back against the wall. “You doing all right after that attack today? And what about your nightmares? I guess I shouldn’t be bragging about my sexual dreams when you’ve been having horrible nightmares. Though waking up from that dream by myself was more frustrating than satisfying, I admit. It’s not like I could do anything about it in the middle of a full cabin.”
Zenia held up a hand, wanting to forestall any details on what doing something about it might involve.

The tapping sounded again, and Jev realized it came from the large glass window that overlooked the dark courtyard. He grabbed his pistol from the holster that hung over his desk chair and edged toward the window.
It was too dark outside to see much. Night had fallen as Jev had walked up to the castle, leaving Cutter behind at the smithy to continue on his project—a surly elf wouldn’t distract him, he’d declared.
Jev unfastened the latch, pushed the window open a couple of inches, and stepped back.
A cloaked and cowled figure pushed his way inside, and Jev leaped back. At first, he thought it was the elven magic user who’d attacked him in the smithy. But familiar silver hair tumbled out from under that cowl.
“Lornysh?”
“Who else were you expecting?” Lornysh spoke quietly and closed the window behind him.
“Coming through my window? In children’s tales, it’s usually the valiant lover of the princess. Oddly, it was never the valiant lover of the prince. It was always zyndar men who scaled the stone walls of castles and keeps and such. In hindsight, it’s possible those tales were rather limited in scope.” Jev thought of his cousin Wyleria, who apparently had a female lover, and decided those children’s tales had failed to accommodate the full spectrum of audience tastes in a lot of ways.
“I apologize for not being your lover. Presumably, she can walk down the hall to reach you. The guards don’t seem to have instructions to let me into the castle.”

“Why couldn’t you just do that at the dock?” Cutter asked as they climbed into the covered wagon and sat on one of the wood benches. “Get us a free ride and an escort?”
“I thought you’d want to get some exercise after being cooped up on the ship for the crossing,” Jev said.
“Exercise? Is that what you call battling women in robes, being chased by crowds, and having vegetables lobbed at our heads?”
“Fruit,” Lornysh said.
“What?”
“Eggplants have seeds and are thus considered fruits.”
“So are elves,” Cutter said, “but we don’t call them that to their faces.”
“Wise,” Lornysh said.

“Do you know anything about medicine, Lornysh?” Jev asked.
“Human medicine? Little.”
“Medicine in general. I imagine that what applies to elves applies to humans for the most part. We can’t be that dissimilar since we can have offspring together.”
“We?” Lornysh lifted his eyes from the map.
“Well, not we specifically. You and I would have trouble in that department. But our races. There are all manner of mixed human-elves wandering the world.”
“Yes,” Lornysh said, his tone cooling.

“Just let me know if you can figure out who fled from us, please,” Jev told Lornysh. “I’ll reward you with a bottle of fine elven wine from our cellar.”
“You don’t need to bribe me to get me to help. I’ve been helping Cutter, and he drags me around sewers without giving me anything at all.”
“I offered you half a sandwich,” Cutter said.
“After you dropped it in the sewer stream.”
“Not in the stream. It landed next to it, on the perfectly harmless cement.”
“Perfectly harmless cement covered with green algae and an odious-smelling fungal growth.”
“Natural things,” Cutter said. “I thought elves liked nature.”
Lornysh shook his head.

What I did know was that it was him who pulled away, his nose touching mine as he let out a ragged breath against my cheek with a dry laugh that didn't sound all that entertained. "Jesus, Ruby".
I could help but smile, feeling pretty damned please with myself. "Is that a flashlight in your pocket or did you think that kiss was as good as I did ?"
He laughed straight out, his chest bubbling. "Pretty sure we're on the same page about that kiss," he muttered, sounding slightly out of breath.
It was my turn to laugh. "Can we do it again ?"

They had taken her scars.
Maeve had taken them all away.
It told Rowan enough about what had been done. When he’d seen her back, the smooth skin where the scars of Endovier and the scars from Cairn’s whipping should have been, he’d suspected.
But kneeling, burning in nothing but her skin … There were no scars where there should have been. The almost-necklace of them from Baba Yellowlegs: gone. The shackle marks from Endovier: gone. The scar where she’d been forced by Arobynn Hamel to break her own arm: gone. And on her palms …
It was upon her exposed palms that Aelin now gazed. As if realizing what was missing.
The scars across her palms, one from the moment they had become carranam, the other from her oath to Nehemia, had disappeared entirely.
Like they had never been.
Her flames burned brighter.
Healers could remove scars, yes, but the most likely reason for the lack of them on Aelin, on all the places where he’d once traced them with his hands, his mouth …
It was new skin. All of it. Save for her face, since he doubted they would be stupid enough to take off the mask.
Nearly every inch of her was covered in new skin, unvarnished as fresh snow. The blood coating her had burned away to reveal it.
New skin, because they’d needed to replace what had been destroyed. To heal her so they could begin again and again.

“If you’re teasing me, Westley, I’m just going to kill you.”
“How can you even dream I might be teasing?”
“Well, you haven’t once said you loved me.”
“That’s all you need? Easy. I love you. Okay? Want it louder?I love you . Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you. Want it backward? You love I.”
“You are teasing now; aren’t you?”
“A little maybe"

She complied, and Jared reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small metal box. He selected two odd-shaped objects and inserted them into a miniscule hole in the wall. She could hear a few clicks of metal on metal.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Since I don’t have a key to this fine establishment, I’m picking the lock.”
“But you just used magic on the other lock. Why can’t you do that on this one?”
“Because the other one was a magic lock, and this one isn’t. It’s a regular Schlage five-pin, so stop talking and let me concentrate…or would you rather do the lock picking?” He held the lock picks out to her.
Mina shook her head but asked, “If we are going to these people for help, why don’t we just knock and use the front door?”
Jared’s shoulders hunched in guilt. “Because I never knock. I shouldn’t have to knock.”
“So you just do this for your own enjoyment.”
“Yes, and to see the look on their faces when I get the better of them.”

He could see her from his perch in the tree. She was crouched below trying to be inconspicuous in the bushes. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she wore all black clothes to blend into the night.
Very cliché. All she needs now is a utility belt and a cape and she’ll look like Batman.

“You want honesty?” He stepped closer. “You think you can handle it?”
“Yes!”
“Then here’s some for you. I wish I had kissed you yesterday. I wish I hadn’t been so damned honorable about it, because ever since then, it’s been driving me berserk.”
Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut when his gaze lowered to her lips.
“You want more honesty?” He took another step closer. “You scared the crap out of me today.”
“I was afraid, too.” She glanced at his eyes and for a second, before he blinked, they looked gold. Like Puff’s. How? Why did she keep getting this odd feeling? Her mind raced. Golden eyes, similar voices, an extra-large heart. The tattoo of a dragon on Silas’s shoulder. There had even been times when Puff and Silas had used the exact same words.
She stepped back, bumping into a chair. No, it was too bizarre. It couldn’t be possible.
“Do you want more?” he asked.
She clutched the pillow tightly with her fists, suddenly afraid she couldn’t handle more truth. “We … we should stop now.”
“Stop what? Pretending I don’t want you? That you don’t want me?”
“I never said that!”
“You were thinking it. Ever since you met me.”
“No!”
He scoffed. “How about some honesty from you?” He ripped the pillow out of her hands and pulled her into his arms. As she slammed against his chest, he gripped the back of her head and planted his lips on hers.

“What is that?” Silas asked.
“It was caused by poison. Lady Gwennore has a similar spot on her arm.”
“What?” Silas’s heart lurched. “She’s been poisoned?”
Dimitri snorted. “I was, too, but I can see where all your concern lies.”
Silas gave him a wry look. “You’re obviously still alive. Where did the poison come from?”
“The dagger that Romak had me pass on to Gwennore.”
Silas’s heart grew still for a moment. “The weasel wants me dead.”
Dimitri nodded. “I figure he wants rid of both you and Lady Gwennore. If she stabbed you with the poisoned dagger, it would kill you. And then she would be executed.”
“Bastard.” Silas clenched his fists. “How dare he abuse her like that? If she had accidentally cut herself, she could have died!”
Dimitri cleared his throat. “Me, too.”
“Yes.” Silas paced about the room. “So Romak didn’t receive that gold just for spying. He was being paid to assassinate me.”
“Say the word, and I’ll arrest him.”
Silas paced some more as he considered. “Where is the priest?”
“In the village at a tavern.”
“Probably waiting for news of my death.” Silas stopped. “As soon as Aleksi returns, spread the word in the village that I’m deathly ill and not expected to live. When the priest leaves, have Aleksi follow him. I want to know where he goes and who is behind all this.”
“I thought you suspected Lord Morris.”
“I do, but I need to be sure. Once the priest is gone, we arrest Romak.”
Dimitri nodded. “Got it.”
Silas glanced at his friend’s inflamed arm. “Did the poison make you sick?”
“Now you ask?” Dimitri smirked. “My head hurt like hell.”
So did that mean Gwennore had a headache, too? Silas grimaced. “She should never have wandered off like that.”
“But I’m feeling much better now, thank you.” Dimitri smiled when Silas gave him an affectionate swat on the shoulder. “I suggest you refrain from wringing her neck. After all, she’s the one who figured out that the dagger was poisoned. We need her.”
“I know. She’s wonderfully clever.” Silas thumped a fist on Karlan’s desk. “That just makes me more upset with her. How could she do something so foolish?”
“Calm down. She’s fine. No harm done.”
“She almost went over the waterfall! And if I have to hear one more time about how sweet that damned Puff is—”
“What? Puff?”
“The dragon,” Silas growled. “She keeps going on and on about how he always comes to the rescue, while I do nothing! It’s Puff who protects her, not me! It’s Puff that’s a sweetheart—”
“By the Light!” Dimitri laughed. “Do you hear what you’re saying?”
“It’s what she’s saying that’s pissing me off!”
Dimitri punched him on the shoulder. “Idiot. You’re jealous of yourself.”

“She’s an intelligent, brave, and beautiful woman. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing will come of it.”
“She calls you General Gorgeous. Doesn’t that mean she’s attracted to you, too?”
Silas shook his head, then smiled as he recalled her physical assessment of him. Constipation. “She thinks I’m full of shit.”
Aleksi snorted. “You’re right. She is intelligent.”

Silas reached for the doorknob. “I’ll tell Lady Gwennore to be ready before dawn.”
“Oh.” Dimitri grabbed his arm to stop him. “I should tell you. She grew up with Sorcha.”
“I know.”
Dimitri huffed. “Is there anything you don’t know?” His eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Actually, I did hear something rather shocking from Lady Olenka, but you probably—”
“What?”
“According to her, you’re the most handsome man on Aerthlan.”
Silas scoffed. “If you learn something important, let me know.” He reached for the doorknob once again.
“So I guess you’re not interested in Lady Gwennore’s response.”
Silas hesitated. Had she agreed? He caught Dimitri smirking at him. Bastard.
Dimitri grinned. “I heard that.”
“I let you hear it.”
With a snort, Dimitri crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “So you don’t want to know what she said?”
“Don’t need to. I can read her mind too well.”
“Oh, right.” Dimitri’s mouth twitched. “Then you must have heard her call you General Gorgeous.”
Silas hissed in a breath, then pointed a finger in his friend’s face. “Stop invading her mind.”
“Why not? You are.”
“I can’t help it,” Silas grumbled. “She’s practically shouting at us.”

“Fine, let’s talk.” He strode toward her.
She gasped as more of his abdomen was revealed. “No!” She held up her hands to cover her eyes. “Don’t come any closer!”
“I thought you wanted to talk!”
She squeezed her eyes shut behind her hands. “I can’t talk to you naked.”
“You’re not naked. I am.”
“Don’t come any closer!”
He made another noise of frustration. “What are you afraid of? It’s a damned cock! It’s not a creature from the deep!” There were some splashing noises. “Fine. You can look now. I retreated.”
She peeked through her fingers. The water was back up to his navel now.
“Dammit.” He glanced down with an annoyed look. “Can you throw me my breeches?” He motioned to a large boulder. “They’re over there.”
“Yes, of course.” She rushed over to the boulder. Next to his boots, his shirt and breeches lay folded neatly. She picked up the folded breeches and tossed them toward him.
To her horror, they simply unfurled in the air and plopped onto the water a few feet from where she stood.
“Are you kidding me?” He gave her an incredulous look. “You call that a throw?”
She winced. “I thought they would go farther.”
He glanced down and grimaced.
“Don’t worry.” She kicked off her shoes. “I’ll push them toward you.” She waded into the water.
“Stop!” He held up a hand. “I-I think you should stay there. I’ll get them.”
“But—”
“Just turn around if you don’t want to see.” He gritted his teeth. “We can’t have my cock leaping out of the water to attack you.”
She gasped. “It leaps?”
“I was kidding!” He winced. “A bit. Turn around.”
She did. Water splashed as he waded toward the breeches. She winced at the sound of a few muttered curses. Perhaps she shouldn’t have admitted to finding the treasure. But she wanted complete honesty between them. “Is it safe now?”
He snorted. “It was always safe.” After a moment, he said, “You can turn around.”

He groaned against her mouth. His hand moved down her shift all the way to her rump, then he pulled her hard against him.
She gasped as something hard jabbed at her. But as soon as her mouth opened, his tongue slipped inside.
“What?” She pulled back. “What was that?”
His eyes glimmered with a golden heat. “Shall we continue with the ravishing?”
“I…” Did he intend to do more than a passionate kiss? “Are you planning to do more strange things with your tongue?”
His mouth twitched. “Definitely.”
“I—” She glanced down. “I think there’s something in the water. A turtle, perhaps. I’m afraid it’ll bite me.”
“It’s a damned cock. It doesn’t bite.”
She inhaled sharply. That was him? Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment.
“Would you like to investigate for yourself?” He took her hand from his shoulder.
“No!” She jumped back, pulling her hand away. “I mean, I’m not ready…” She paused when she realized his gaze was riveted to her chest. Unwittingly, she’d moved into shallower water, and now her breasts were showing. Her wet blouse and shift were glued to her skin, the nipples tight and protruding.
“Come here,” he growled, pulling her back into another kiss.

“Aha!” Sister Fallyn grabbed the knife. “This is exactly what we need. Ye can spread the word, child, that if any man comes in here, I will gullet him!”
Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “With a butter knife?”
“Sister,” Brigitta whispered, shaking her head.
“Oh.” Sister Fallyn grabbed a fork and checked the sharpness of the tines. “This might work better.”
Jeffrey stepped back, watching Sister Fallyn with a wary look. “Why do you want to attack someone?”
“To keep from being ravished, of course.”
The boy scratched at his brown hair. “What’s that?”
“Never mind about that for now.” Brigitta motioned to the rip in her gown. “Do ye think ye could find me some needle and thread?”
“A needle!” Sister Fallyn nodded with a gleam in her eyes. “That would make a good weapon.”
Jeffrey frowned at the nun and whispered, “Is she all right?”
“She’ll be fine.”

“My prediction was the best,” Maeve continued. “In four years, I’ll meet a tall and handsome stranger with green teeth, purple hair, and three feet.”
Brigitta wrinkled her nose. “Ye call that handsome? How can he have three feet? Does he have a third leg?”
Maeve waved a dismissive hand. “We didn’t bother to figure that part out. But he is taller than most.”
“Aye.” Sorcha snorted. “By a foot.”
Maeve grinned.

“I guess my spies are better than yours.”
“Apparently so.” Now it was his turn to watch her carefully. “Are your spies, by any chance, dead?”
She flinched, and the grape popped out of her hand. “Oh!” She reached for the grape as it fell, catching it just as it landed on his lap.
He hissed in a breath as his groin reacted.
“Oh!” With a gasp, she jerked her hand away, and the grape went flying. “I’m sorry!”
He grabbed her forearm, his gloved hand encircling her sleeve. “You gasped. Were you in pain?”
“No, I…”
“It didn’t hurt you?” When she shook her head no, he slapped her hand against his cock once more and held it there. “That doesn’t hurt you?”
She gasped again, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“Do you feel a shock?”
“Of course!” Her cheeks flamed with heat as her gaze shifted downward with a look of horror. “There’s something hard in your breeches, and I think it’s moving!”
“Not that! Are you feeling a shock from lightning?”
She shook her head. “Am I supposed to?”
Only one layer of insulation, and she was all right.
A knock sounded, then the door cracked open. Leo released her, and they jumped apart so fast their chairs fell over.
“My lord?” Jensen’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away as Leo righted his chair. “The funeral has begun, and His Grace has requested your presence.”
“Of course.” Leo bowed his head to Luciana. “I will see you later at the funeral feast.”
She nodded, her gaze riveted to the floor.

“Did you learn anything else in the barracks?”
Tatiana stopped dancing and pressed a finger to her lips as she considered. “Oh, yes! It was quite shocking.”
Luciana jumped to her feet. “You know who the assassin is?”
“No. But I discovered I’ve been wrong about something for years. I’ve always thought that the bigger a man was, the bigger his male … part would be. But that’s not actually true.”
Luciana’s mouth fell open.
“I know.” Tatiana nodded gravely. “I couldn’t believe it, either, so I made a point of studying as many men as I could—”
“That’s enough!” Luciana put on her black cloak to cover up the thin nightgown. “I need to ask Jensen to bring me some paper and ink.”
Tatiana gasped. “And you wouldn’t believe Jensen! I mean, he seems so ordinary, but—”
“I don’t want to hear it! I have to be able to face him without blushing. Now, why don’t you do something useful, like finding out who wants to kill me and Father?”
“Fine, fine.” Tatiana waved a hand. “You’re so bossy. And you’ll send the letter?”
“Yes, I promise.” When her sister vanished, Luciana drew the bolt and unlocked the door.
“My lady?” Jensen asked when she cracked open the door.
Her cheeks grew warm. “Could you bring me some paper and writing utensils?”
He bowed. “Right away.”