Page 10 of In Violent Waves

He was getting away.

No.

She had wanted that human for a sacrifice, and she was going to have him.

“You two enjoy,” she said. “I’ll meet you back at the castle.”

Seraphina rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Lyra always gets the nicest things.”

Marina clutched Lyra’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Careful.”

Lyra sauntered through the tavern without a reply. The stench of unwashed bodies and cloying perfume assaulted her senses with each step. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed that before, but several women caught her eye on the way out.

They were sitting on the laps of men, brushing hair out of their faces or whispering in their ears. It was a strange sight to behold. That kind of behavior was forbidden in her kingdom.

She stumbled through the doorway and out into the clear air. Inhaling a lungful, she closed her eyes, feeling a thrill roll through her, like she had managed to escape.

“I hoped you would follow me,” Wilder’s voice came from behind her.

He was making this all too easy.

Lyra blinked open her eyes and feigned surprise.

“Sir! You have given me a fright.”

Wilder leaned one shoulder against the stone wall of the tavern. Half hidden in shadow, he looked delectable. His cape was pulled around him, but it did nothing to hide his muscular frame.

She briefly wondered if his backside was just as well-built as his chest and thighs. The excitement in Lyra’s veins scorched. She could make her sacrifice and have time for another if she felt like it, which would increase the fertility magic of her realm.

Or she could walk alone, enjoying her solitude while it lasted.

“So you’re saying you didn’t come out to find me?” His voice was seductive, and it reeled her in.

Lyra clutched her chest and forced a breath before approaching him.

Or she could try out these new legs and wrap them around his face first. She had never been intimate before, but the pounding between her legs made her want to try.

Lyra had never felt that way about Drystan. Most days, she couldn’t fathom his being her first encounter of intimacy. Ruining herself now might put an end to the wedding tomorrow, too.

What was that human phrase? Two birds, one stone.

“That’s not what I said at all. Do not put words in my mouth,” she spoke with insinuation, a smirk to her lips, and a sashay to her hips as she approached him.

Heat coiled in her veins, ready to strike.

His eyes flared a fraction.

It was working. He was falling under her spell already.

She stopped a hairsbreadth away from him, accidentally kicking the pack at his feet as she leaned in close to breathe him in. He smelled like how she would imagine the air from high up would smell, crisp and light. Not at all like the air coming off the muck on the street or the stringy weeds between buildings.

Wilder took her in, from her boots sinking into the mud, the navy gown splattered in vomit, and the pieces of auburn hair that dangled from her updo and grazed her collarbones.

If he appreciated what he saw, he didn’t let on, which only spurred her on.

“Now why would you be out here waiting for me?” she asked, leaning towards him.

Her attention was so raptly focused on his face, the moonlight that lit high cheekbones, and up-tilted eyes. He looked nothing like the humans in the tavern. They were all marred with some kind of flaw. But not him—he was perfect. Beautiful, even.