Page 7 of The Stolen Crown

A heated tremble shuddered through my body. In the next breath, my shoulders slumped and my legs no longer trembled with the need to bolt. Instead, a delirious ache pounded between my thighs.

I turned toward my stranger. Gods, he was not ugly, he was…beautiful. Sharp features made of porcelain. He could not be anything but carved by a god’s hand.

“That’s right, sweet one.” His long fingers reached for my cheek.

My body arched into him. As lovely and surreal as this man appeared, it was another stern face that filled my thoughts, painting over the stranger’s features until he became someone else. Someone I detested and desired in the same heartbeat.

I touched my fingertips to his jaw, imagining it was the dark stubble always shadowing the jawline of the Ever King’s cousin.

Hands surrounded my waist as the sweet-singing stranger tugged me closer. Want and desire and something dangerous raged through my mind. A collision of thoughts—stay or flee. All of it tangled in a battle between my logic and emotion.

The eyes of the stranger were no longer horrid; now all my mind saw was the sultry gleam of blood and honey.

I grinned. “Hearttalker.”

I spoke the mispronounced name even with the small nudge in the back of my skull ringing that something was not right here.

The stranger looked every bit like Tait Heartwalker save for his height, the way his mouth twitched, and his smell. Where was the hint of worn leather and sea winds? Where was the musk of his smoking herbs?

I squinted at the stranger’s face, stroking the sharp edge of his jaw. Tait would never smile at my rather amusing twist on his given name. He would bemoan it and frown deeper.

“Is it you?”

“Aye, sweet one. Won’t be long now.”

Won’t be long until what?

The desire to remain close, disregarding every wrong thing about the singing stranger, was more powerful than a barbed hook snagged in the flesh. I could not move, could not pull back, even if I wanted to.

“Yes. Stay close, sweet,” came a low hiss from the strange mouth hovering against the nape of my throat. Was I on the ground? Ferns littered the space around my head. Fingers trailed down my bodice. Pressure kept me pinned on my back.

Panic flooded my head. For the first time, the gentle hum of a song shattered in my ears like the harsh sound of steel clacking on stone. A flash of the rotting face returned.

Wrong. No, this was so bleeding wrong. Dangerously so.

I swung a hand and thought I might’ve cried out.

His warm, salty palm clapped over my mouth. “No, no. Hush, now. This broken heart won’t take long to devour. I’ll make the pain go away, sweet.”

Sounded delightful.

Threads over my bodice tore, and I could feel the fabric spreading, could sense sharp fingernails trailing the skin between my breasts. The place over my damn heart. Sharp, jagged spikes pierced me there. His fingernails clawed at my body. I coughed and tried to protect the rapid thud in my chest.

A sea singer. He was a damn sea singer, and he wanted my heart.

The danger in singers of the Ever was that earth fae hearts could be easily devoured should the trance take hold. I knew well enough about sea singer voices. This was the second occasion where control was taken from me.

I tried to scream, but the sound was muffled behind his palm.

Something wet and hot—three hells, his tongue—licked over my skin. He moaned and drew in a long breath through his nose.

The same hypnotic voice reclaimed my thoughts, my desires, my want, flooding the panic from my head until my body went limp.

Fight it. I was supposed to fight such a voice, but…why?

He owned me, as he should…

All at once the pressure was ripped off my body. Air flooded my lungs in a gasp. The gentle melancholy of his voice sliced from my thoughts.