Chapter Twenty-Eight
My cheeks were flushed from the cold and the single cup of wine I’d allowed myself to have before switching to hot tea to chase away the chill. I forced myself to stay at the celebration until it got dark and the huge pyre was burning fiercely, some of the Folk already dancing drunkenly in its glow before the effigy of the boar had even been engulfed by the flames.
It all seemed so violent and sad to me, burning something that was supposed to represent the Mild Months. The months of new life and growth and warmth. My gut twisted as I stared up at it, standing beside Caom who raised his cup to the fire.
“To frost and ice and bitter chill,” he announced, nudging me with a grin.
I forced myself to smile back, but it was brittle. I had to turn away from the fire, and my eyes automatically drifted up the steps of the Carlin’s court.
I stared at Lonan, sitting in his throne and looking every inch the bored, cold prince he’d seemed the very first time I saw him, when I was taken to meet the Carlin after being brought here.
But I knew what hid beneath that mask now. I knew the warmth of his smooth skin, the heat of his mouth and tongue. How those black eyes flashed with pleasure and desire, how they softened when he was lying beside me.
I knew that he liked bitter marmalade and aniseed tea. That he fiddled with the buttons of his shirt when deep in thought, and always let out a little grunt when he languidly stretched out all his lithe limbs on the bed before getting up.
I knew what my name sounded like in his husky voice when he moaned it in my ear. I knew what his long, lean body felt like pressed tightly to mine with nothing between us.
The Carlin and her sons were far above us, at the top of the court steps. But as the pyre caught fully, blue-white fire flickered over their pale faces. The Carlin looked ravenous as she stared at the boar catching light with her one eye.
Balor’s deep blue eyes were cold and calculating as they swept over the Folk gathered below. Bres grinned viciously as he watched Folk dance and fall over drunk, his bronze teeth gleaming. Cethlen looked vacant, long fingers trailing over the head of the hellhound panting in his lap.
And Lonan’s black eyes were fixed on me.
His mask was still in place, but his eyes burned with want as he stared at me. The heat of the fire was almost unbearable on the side of my face as I stared back, unable to move.
When the Carlin rose from her throne, the movement automatically pulled my gaze away and towards her as the gathered Folk went quiet. I stiffened when I realised Balor was watching me, his blue eyes flickering in the unseelie fire.
The Carlin didn’t say a word. She barely looked at her subjects, who were waiting with bated breath for her to address them. As she turned and swept inside, through the huge double doors that the guards heaved open, her four sons silently rose and followed.
Rather than seem dejected, the Folk took their ruler’s exit as their cue to really let loose. A loud, ululating shriek went up from somewhere in the dark, making me jump, and then thumping drums and pipe music started up. Fae spun and danced drunkenly round the pyre, some of them looking dangerously close to falling into the flames.
“Now the party really begins.” Caom’s copper eyes flashed hungrily as he gripped my arm, trying to tug me closer to the fire. “Come and dance, Ash.”
I shook my head, stepping back and pulling my arm free. He followed, coming too close. His breath smelled like sweet fae wine.
“Comeon,Ash. You have to enjoy yourself atsomepoint.”
“I do enjoy myself,” I said stiffly, stepping back again. “But I don’t want to dance.”
He rolled his eyes, face twisting into sharp disdain for a moment. “How about a drink then? You’ve only had one cup. How are youevergoing to shed your mortal skin if you don’t even try?”
“I am trying,” I snapped. “I don’t need to get drunk to do it.”
He huffed, turning away from me dismissively. “Stubborn mortal.Iwant to enjoy myself tonight.”
I forced myself to take a breath to stay calm. “And you can. You don’t need to babysit me. Go and enjoy yourself.”
As if suddenly realising this conversation wasn’t going in the direction he wanted, Caom turned pleading, slightly unfocused eyes back on me.
“Please, Ash? Don’t go yet. You don’t have to dance. Let’s go and get a drink from Idony.”
I let out a hard breath, eyes flicking up to the palace before I could stop them.
I nodded once. “Fine.”
I wasn’t going to have another drink, but I’d stay a few more minutes until Caom got distracted. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be in my cottage with Lonan, celebrating his birthday. Just us.
I eyed the palace furtively as I stood beside Caom at Idony’s sister’s stall. Which window was Lonan’s bedroom? Was he watching me right now? Waiting to see when I would leave so he could fly to the cottage as the crow and be there when I got back?