Page 15 of Consort's Glory
I’m dead anyway, she thought. At least now I’ll get to satisfy some of my curiosity before I go.
What were elves really like? What did their homes look like? How did they interact with their family, when foreign eyes weren’t watching? Never before could she have risked trying to answer any of those burning questions, but now…
Theodore’s hand closed over the back of her neck as Kaz steered the car toward what appeared to be the entrance to an underground garage. They stopped momentarily at the gate that blocked the entrance, but the guards manning the station took one look into Kaz’s open window and ushered them in.
As Kaz navigated a shockingly ordinary parking garage full of shiny vehicles, some more obviously m-enhanced than others, Theodore held her rigid attention with a single, languorous stroke of his clawed thumb down the side of her throat. The touch sent a sizzling awareness across every nerve, and Margot came to the conclusion that she had to stop him from making any more contact with her before she did something unforgivably stupid.
Stiffly turning her head to catch his eye, she said, “Sir, while I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, I’m going to have to politely request that you stop touching me.”
His fingers flexed. “Why? You seemed perfectly content with Viktor’s paws all over you.”
Margot didn’t rise to the bait. “He’s a friend. You are not. I am not in the habit of letting strangers put their claws on my neck.” No matter how much they secretly thrilled her.
Whatever she was expecting, it was not for Theodore Solbourne to snort with laughter. Immediately, the gloved hand disappeared, leaving the back of her neck exposed to the cold air filtering in from the lowered window.
Dryly, he noted, “Well, it’s good to hear you have some sense of self-preservation at least.”
Kaz pulled the car to a smooth stop in a parking space and killed the engine. Without a word, he slid out of the driver’s seat and closed his door, leaving Margot and Theodore in the quiet darkness of the cooling vehicle.
Warmth glowed in her stomach, foreign and unsettling, as she listened to the soft rustle of Theodore’s clothing, smelled the luxurious scent of his skin, felt his presence in the soft darkness of the car.
Adrenaline spiking for reasons she couldn’t honestly attribute to fear, Margot reached for the door handle with trembling fingers — only to freeze when she felt warm breath on her cheek.
She didn’t dare turn her head to see, but she could feel him move. Margot could hear the telltale rustle as he positioned one arm along the seat behind and the other across her front, not touching but close enough to feel the heat of him, so he could grasp the handle.
Margot was caged against the door, frozen, her instincts in a riot.
The buried part of her that keened for touch, that could never, ever be free, was a temperamental thing. It bucked against his obvious intimidation, his audacity in cornering her. It wanted to rake its claws over all that smooth blue skin and show him that he would have to do much more than invade her personal space to win her attention. It wanted to dance with him, to make him work—
Margot breathed deep, pulling more of him in without thinking. Her blood rushed, strangely fizzy, in her veins. The muscles of her abdomen tensed.
Something in her that had long remained still began, at last, to stir.
His whisper burned hot across the skin of her cheek. “Tell me, Healer Goode, do you want to use your claws on me?”
Her answer came hard and fast.
Yes,the secret part of her wanted to tear at him, to see what he would do if she snapped her teeth, but the other part of her that had always kept steely control over her baser impulses would not let the words out.
Staring at the headrest in front of her, she found herself answering his question with her own, “Why? Do you want me to?”
He was close, his big body surrounding hers but carefully, intentionally keeping an inch of space between them. Still, she felt the air change when he tensed. His voice was unchanged, but she could swear there was the hint of a growl under the words when he said, “Only if you’re prepared for the consequences.”
“Beheading?”
A soft huff against her sensitive skin. He shifted infinitesimally closer. “No, I like your head where it is.” There was a note of softness in his voice that was at once baffling and familiar, as if she’d heard it a thousand times. “I like your claws, too. I wouldn’t mind it if you used them to challenge me.” He paused, huffing an amused breath that was not quite a laugh. “Fair warning, darling: Elves love a challenge — but I always win.”
A cold whip of fear cut through the spreading glow of warmth in her blood. Was that what the secret part of her wanted? Was it fucking suicidal?
Horrified by the disturbing flash of insight, Margot could only manage a mute nod to acknowledge the warning.
The door handle clicked as Theodore unlatched it, but he didn’t open the door right away. Instead, he leaned forward to breathe against her ear, “Feel free to sharpen your claws on me any time, darling.”
The bite of a fang nipping the lobe of her ear elicited a gasp. That terrifying heat, no longer a secret thing, blazed to life as Theodore pushed her door open and rumbled, “After you, Healer Goode.”
* * *
Margot was hyper-aware of both Kaz and Theodore as they ushered her into a discreet elevator, her nerves strung too tight. She tried to take in everything, just in case she needed the information for an improbable escape, but there was only so much she could absorb. Focusing on the well-worn wrinkles in Kaz’s leather jacket in front of her, Margot found the solid core of her focus and held it tight.
