Page 17 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

“Someone has to,” I mumbled. “You hardly ever tell me anything. When you’re not evading my questions by chasing me away or trying to change the subject, you avoid me altogether.”

“Well, we can’t all have a rambling mouth such as yours that expels every thought faster than a strike of lightning,” Onyx countered. “Imagine the chaos that would ensue.”

“Cute. Real cute, my lord,” I dryly said. “I’m not in the mood to be teased.”

“No? How unfortunate for you then, for I find teasing you quite enjoyable.”

Frustration began to replace the hurt flooding the spaces between my ribs. “This hasn’t been easy for me either, you know. Far from it. Ever since I came to Bremloc, one thing or another has either tried killing me, eating me, or Evan-napping me.”

“Evan-napping?” He arched a brow.

I ignored him, feeling a ramble about to be set free. “I not only learned that I’m the long-lost son of a prince, who was murdered, mind you, but also that I have super rare and powerful magic that makes me a target to anyone who learns about it. Case in point being the dangerous freaking mercenaries lurking in the dark wood just waiting for the chance to snatch me away.”

He opened his mouth. “You—”

“And then,” I continued, cutting him off. “I was falsely accused of poisoning my uncle at the royal ball and thrown into the dungeon. Do you know how scary dungeons are? Do you?” I poked his chest. “Not to mention gross. It was infested by creepy, crawly things that would make Herbert and Holly look like fluffy bunnies in comparison.”

“Herbert and who?”

“That’s not the point.” I flicked my wrist at him. “I was framed, imprisoned, then stolen away in the dead of night and forced to leave my home. As for why I didn’t tell you I was the Hallowed Saint? Honestly, I was scared.”

“Scared?” His brow tapered. “Of me?”

I nodded, losing some of my ire as my ramble died down. “The former saint helped defeat your father. I was worried you’d kill me the moment you found out. Out of either retaliation or hatred.”

Onyx lifted his hand to my face, gliding the backs of his knuckles over my jaw. “I have never once considered harming you.”

Tingles attacked my blood stream. “Not even now that you know who I really am?”

“Not even now,” he responded, his voice taking on an unexpected softness.

“Are you sure that’s not just the love potion talking?” I mumbled.

“Is that sarcasm I detect?” Onyx asked with a tsk and withdrew his hand. “Allow me to rescind my earlier sentiment about not wishing you harm. I now have every mind to throw you off this balcony.”

I scrutinized his perfectly composed expression. “I don’t know if you’re joking or not. Hard to tell with you.”

A subtle smile touched his lips. “You are no good to me dead. Who would brew such delicious coffee and bake delectable apple cobblers?”

“Wow. That’s all I’m good for, huh? Coffee and pie.”

“Cobblers,” he corrected. “I hear they’re best when made in a stone oven.”

Flutters swarmed my heart as a memory surfaced. One where Onyx had caught me in the kitchen baking a cobbler late one night. We had eaten a slice together before he’d taken me to his room and shared some of his past with me. Lowering the walls around his heart, if only a little.

Then, as rain tapped against the windowpane and the fire crackled in the hearth, he’d taken me to his bed. Our fated mate bond had surged between us, and the emptiness in my chest that cried out for him had finally been filled.

That same place wobbled now.

“The hour is late,” he said. “You should return to your lovers.”

“What if I’m not ready to leave?” I asked, still lost in the memory of that night. Haunted by it.

“I’m tired and wish to retire for the evening.” His expression iced over. “And it will take much more than the cookies you brought to sway me otherwise.”

“Cookies?” I asked, confused.

Onyx held eye contact with me as he, ever so slowly, reached inside my cloak and withdrew the bundle I’d tucked away inside. “A bribe?”