Page 91 of The Crimson Throne
“Alyth—” he starts, and already my eyes are darting around, looking for somewhere we can go, somewhere to be alone, anywhere but here—
Alyth,the wind whispers.
Damn itall.
Samson sees my immediate shift, taking a half step back. “I’m sorry, I—it’s the music, and—”
“Don’t you dare say that,” I snap.
His eyes go wide.
“Don’t you say it was the music that made you want me, Samson.”
Horror washes over him. “I…no…I…” He leans closer and drops his head to mine. “No,” he says, his voice firmer now as he shifts to look down at me. “The music just made me brave enough to…” He trails his fingers up my neck, resting them briefly on my bruised and wet lips.
I stare up at him, all serious. “The music didn’t make me want you either,” I say. “I’ve wanted you since…”
Alyth,the wind whispers again.
I ignore it. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since that first night. When you interrupted all my plans and tried to charm me and were mostly annoying as a pixie, but…”
“But?” he asks, his lips twisted in a hopeful half smile.
“But you saw me. Even then, you saw me. No one sees me.”
“More the fools they all are,” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Even when my magic was dampened and I couldn’t see any of—” He looks up at the square, casting a quick glance around at all the different fae creatures still dancing around us. “Even when all this was invisible to me, you never were.”
My heart catches.
ALYTH,the wind demands.
A shadow passes over Samson’s face. “But something’s wrong.”
“It’s not you. But…I no longer think it was my father who summoned us here. And the one who did summon us is getting impatient.”
His eyebrows shoot up, lost behind his ruffled red hair.
His hand slides down my arm, finding my palm and squeezing my fingers. “Where to?”
I’m a little nervous about this—the wisp brought both of us here. It could have easily hidden itself from Samson. But it’s clear from his reactions that he’s not heard the voice on the wind.
But his fingers are laced in mine, his grip firm and reassuring. I’m so used to striding off and just getting everything done by myself.
I don’t have to. Not this time.
“I’m not sure where exactly we’re going, but we can follow the call. Besides, if I leave you here, who knows who you’ll dance with next and what sort of trouble you’ll get into.” I grin wryly at him, mostly to hide the pang of envy at the thought.
Samson smirks. “Jealous?”
“Never.”
“Your angry glare tells me otherwise. My, but you’re lovely when you’re suppressing rage.”
I smack my tongue on my teeth. “I need not suppress anything.”
Samson dips his head close to my ear. “Even better.”
The feel of his warm breath on my sensitive skin raises bumps all along my arms. I jerk away from him and smack his arm. “Come on.”
