A Strange Hymn (Page 39)

“I am an ordinary human,” I say as the couples around us continue to twirl.

“No, Callypso Lillis, enchantress of mortals,” he says, “you are not.” With that, he begins to back away. “Try to enjoy yourself tonight,” he recommends. “You have a week of festivities ahead of you.”

With that, the crowd swallows him up, and I’m alone once more, warm, twisting bodies brushing against me from all sides.

The thought of a week here, surrounded by these fairies is suddenly so terribly daunting.

On the edge of the dance floor, a thick shroud of darkness cuts through the brightly clad fae, and right at the center of it is the Bargainer. He strides towards me, the night clinging to him like a cloak.

I head over to him, noticing that for once this evening, he’s free of an audience.

His eyes are pinned to someone in the crowd. “That little fool is right,” Des says when he reaches me. “You are not ordinary.”

“You were listening in to my conversation?” One day I’m going to have to figure out just how he comes by his secrets. There’s no way Des could’ve just overheard what the Green Man said to me.

“Are you surprised?” he asks, turning my question into one of his own.

I shrug. Now that he’s here, his presence like a drug, I find I don’t really care about whether or not he was snooping, or the fact that he might’ve left his fan club just to make sure another dude wasn’t poaching on me.

I drape my arms around his neck. Suddenly, I get what’s gotten into everyone else. It’s the smell of the smoky bonfires, the thrum of the music, the tingle of the alcohol in my veins. It’s all coaxing me to fall into this night and this man. To give everything to magic, if only for a single evening.

He cups my cheeks, and I see him drinking in my expression. I imagine that I must now look like all the other revelers—flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, easy smile.

Making some decision, he kisses me hard. He tastes like fairy wine and dirty thoughts.

“Dance with me,” I say when our mouths part.

His thumb strokes my cheek. “I don’t want to dance with you.” The pitch of his voice hits me right in my core.

He doesn’t want to dance, but his smoky, pale eyes want something else, something that’s waking up my siren.

My eyes move to the edge of the clearing, where fairies have been disappearing and reappearing all night.

He pulls me in tighter. “I would make it worth your while …” he whispers, knowing where my thoughts are.

I could just give in. I mean, why not?

… But I shouldn’t. Right?

His hand moves to my wrist. “Or I could simply make the decision easier.”

My breath catches as Des holds my wrist between us, the black beads seeming to suck in the light around us.

“Truth or dare, cherub.”

If I choose truth, the two of us will have a little heart-to-heart, and then we’ll go back to dancing and drinking. But if I don’t …

My gaze moves up his imposing frame to that hardened, pretty face of his.

“Dare.”

His hand squeezes my wrist tighter for a moment, as a slow, devious smile spreads across his face. “So be it.” His hand slips down to my palm, his magic smoothing along my skin like a thousand light caresses.

The Bargainer warned me about this before I bought my first favor off of him. That with a siren, he wouldn’t just ask for secrets.

There’d be sex, too.

Only then, he’d been saying that to scare me off. But now … now being mates, well, sex came hand-in-hand with love.

Des pulls us towards the dark woods that border the clearing, his silver eyes smoldering.

I can feel the sly looks of other fairies as we slip away, and I can’t help the rising heat in my cheeks. They all know what we’re about to do.

We leave the music and the dancing behind us, the forest eerily silent.

“What are you thinking?” Des asks, his voice smooth like Scotch.

That just the thought of your skin pressed to mine is making my knees weak.

“That you’re a sly devil,” I say instead.

His laugh echoes through the night, unfettered, abandoned. He pushes me up against a nearby tree, the trunk slipping between my wings. “You’re as wild as me, Callie. I know what you crave—what your siren craves.” He nuzzles my neck. “Let me show you.”

Between that soft touch and his seductive words, my siren surfaces, brightening my skin.

I arch into him, throwing my head back.

Yes.

This is everything I want. Him and me beneath the dark sky. Primal. Passionate.

I reach for his pants just as he reaches for my skirts, gathering them in his hands. Our hands are deft and hurried, our movements jerky. I can hear my own breath hitching.

With our clothes still halfway on, that hard, delicious flesh of his presses against me.

“My mate,” he murmurs, his hair tickling my cheek as he leans into me.

There’s an urgency both to the magic that’s demanding, demanding, demanding and to our own fevered passions.

The Bargainer’s shadows blanket us, darkening our surroundings until it’s just him and me, a single point in the dark universe that he rules.

His wings come around us, further shielding our bodies.

Next to my glowing skin, I see his neck muscles clench, and with a powerful shove, he enters me.

One of his hands cups my breast through the fabric of my dress, and then his head dips down, his hot mouth kissing the exposed skin of my chest. My fingers dig into his shoulders.

He’s moving in and out of me, our bodies hot and wet where we’re joined. They make slick, wet noises as we come together.

“Meant … to take this slower,” Des rakes out.

It’s almost painful, the force of his thrusts. This joining isn’t something sweet. It’s wild, primal, and it calls to all my darkest corners.

I thread my fingers in his hair and force his head to the side. Minutes ago, all his white blond hair had been elegantly swept back from his face. Now it’s fallen victim to my touch.

I tighten my grip on his hair. “I don’t want slow,” I say, glamour entering my voice. “I want everything the King of the Night can give me—and then I want more.”

With a growl, Des gives me exactly that.

Again, and again, and again.

Chapter 23

I wake to the rustle of oak trees and the cold chill of dew on my skin. My hipbone hurts from sleeping on a hard surface, and the scent of moist earth fills my nostrils.

Where am I?

Blinking sleep away, I sit up, running my hands through my hair and pulling out several leaves and twigs. My dress still glows softly, and at my back is the tree Des and I thoroughly sullied earlier.

Des.

I glance around, but he’s nowhere in sight. I rub my temples, trying to remember through the beginnings of a hangover just how the night ended, and why I’m now alone.

Off in the distance, a branch snaps.

I go still.

What are the chances that that’s my Night King?

Zero, my mind whispers.

I rise to my feet, trying to be as silent as possible. Not that I’m doing a great job being innocuous. Kind of hard to go unnoticed when you’re in a dark wood wearing a glowing dress.

I begin retracing my steps. I think I can figure out a way back to my suite; I just have to get out of this forest.

Another branch snaps, and I jump at the sound.

Is someone following me?

And where’s Des?