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“The dark fae drape themselves in silk and laugh too loud and offer pleasures beyond imagination, but don’t be fooled. They’re dangerous in ways the other courts forgot how to be.”
Her fingers brush the sithean stone. “How so?”
“They never abandoned the old magics.” I pace away from her. “While we pride ourselves on silver craft and mirror walking, they remember spells that can unmake a person from the inside out.”
“Some witches have that power, too.” She shrugs off the warning. “I hunt dangerous beings for a living. I’m not afraid.”
“They will attempt to seduce you.” The words come out with a jealous edge. “Not in the carnal sense, though that is also a possibility. They collect secrets and weaknesses like treasures.”
“Just like demons.” She twists the end of her braid and flips it over her shoulder. “I’m not easy to sway.”
My chest swells with pride, and my focus slips to the rumpled linens of the bed.
An inelegant snort snaps my attention back to Amalia.
“Stop patting yourself on the back,” she says dryly. “I said I’m not easy to sway. That doesn’t mean I lack needs or the willingness to take advantage of an available body.”
My ears twitch again. “How flattering.”
She stalks toward me, her body moving with predatory grace, and reaches up to tangle her fingers in my elaborate braids to pull me down to her level.
Warm breath caresses my lips as she leans in closer. “I solved that whole contraceptive issue while I was away. If we’d had more time, I would have ridden you for hours.”
Heat surges to my cheeks at the crude words, and the front of my breeches tightens. “Something to look forward to when you return.”
“Exactly. So don’t worry about some random Dark fae cock tempting me when I have this”—her free hand cups me through my pants, and I groan—“waiting for me.”
“So vulgar,” I growl and lay my lips across hers, needing another kiss from this maddening human before my brother whisks her away.
Our tongues dance, and my hands find her firm buttocks. Nothing about her is soft or demure, and I revel in the contrast to everything that came before her. No other woman could tempt me the way Amalia Wolf does. She is wild magic and danger, Underhill herself embodied, with the ability to make me better or tear me apart at will.
Either way, I am left changed.
With great reluctance, I lift my head before I give in to temptation and tumble her back onto the sheets. “We need to go meet my brother and Thalindor, who is his personal guard and our cousin.”
Amalia releases me, and my body screams for me to grab her hands and return them to my person. “Duty calls, I suppose.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” I reach out, my fingertips hovering near the sithean stone around her neck without touching it. “This connection to Elionn will guide you through the Dark Sithe’s tricks and traps.”
“If your brother’s there at all.”
I drop my hand back to my side. “Wherever he is, it will lead you to him.”
Her hand rises to cover the stone, its light growing stronger, then fading, like a heartbeat seeking its match. “If the Dark fae are so tricky, how do we know we’re not walking into a trap?”
“We don’t.” I move away from her. “That is why you must be cautious.”
She sheathes her dagger at her belt and considers the cudgel where it leans against the wall before she leaves it behind. “I’m ready.”
“The king will be waiting for you in the mirror chamber,” I say, the words catching in my throat.
Her fingers rise to the sithean stone, tracing its contours. “Does this thing work both ways? Is Elionn supposed to connect with me through this?”
I shake my head. “Were things done the right way, you would have gifted him a sithean stone in turn to complete the bond.”
Her hand drops. “Could he sense me through the veil?”
“He did not speak of it.” I hesitate before adding, “But I often found him in the mirror room when he was not out on the hunt.”
