Why in the nine hells did I say that? Now she’s going to go look. Of course.
Cuan squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to think very cold, icy thoughts. This had no noticeable effect.
“Oh! I see it now.” Tamsin ran a finger over his markings in a way that had him clenching his back teeth on a violent curse. “They’re pretty, especially when they’re all sparkly like this.”
“They are also,” he gritted out, “extremely sensitive. When they are sparkly. Like this.”
She jerked her hand back as though his glowing faemarks had burned her.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh. Um. Sorry.”
“You did nothing wrong.” Through sheer force of will, he managed to get his faemarks to dim to a polite, restrained shimmer. “A great deal right, in fact, which is somewhat the issue. In any event, it is my problem, not yours. I apologize for my shameful lack of self-control.”
“An, um, involuntary physical reaction isn’t your fault.” Tamsin was still behind him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her voice was uncharacteristically flustered. “Er. You still have bruises back here that I don’t think you’ll be able to reach yourself. Um.”
“If you do not wish to continue—”
“No! I mean, I want to help. It’s the least I can do, after all. But I, er, don’t want to…tease you.”
“You are not. I do not mistake your intent.” He grimaced. “It is just somewhat difficult to convince some of the stupider parts of my being that this is solely medical treatment.”
Tamsin let out a pained chuckle. “Yeah, bodies can be like that. Well, if you’re sure you’re okay…”
She bent to her task again, sponging his upper back. He kept himself motionless, holding onto discipline by his fingernails, determined to give no sign of how even that light touch fired his blood.
“There.” Tamsin said after what felt like two ages of exquisite torment. “All done. This crystal water really is amazing. Your bruises are nearly gone already.”
“Fae tend to heal quickly.” He swiveled round to face her once more. “I will be fit enough to fight for you tomorrow, never fear.”
Something shadowed her face. “I wish you didn’t have to.”
She touched the corner of his mouth. He could feel her fingertips trembling, ever so slightly.
“You still have cuts here from those horrible vines,” she murmured. “Hold still.”
She wet the cloth in the pool once more. He closed his eyes as she bent over him. The water was warm on his lips, tasting faintly of salt.
Like tears. Like longing. Like heartbreak.
Control.
“Cuan.” She was so close that he could feel the whisper of her breath against his cheek. “If the next duel goes badly…promise me you’ll surrender, okay?”
He shook his head, very slightly, against the pressure of her touch. “I cannot. You know that, Tamsin.”
“I’d be okay. You said the other high sidhe wouldn’t kill me or suck out my soul all at once. I could endure. Long enough, at least.”
“But I could not,” he said gently. He opened his eyes again, finding hers. “My own pain is nothing, but I could not stand a single second of yours.”
Tamsin’s eyes were very dark in the shimmering lavender light. He was trapped in those warm brown depths, unable to look away, though he knew he should.
The cloth fell from her hand. Her lips brushed his.
Perhaps she’d only meant the kiss as a kindness, a gesture of thanks. If so, that intention was lost the moment their mouths touched.
Softer than silk, stronger than magic. Heat roared through him, banishing all thought.
He caught the back of her neck, pulling her closer, thrusting deeper into her sweet mouth. He needed to taste her, devour her, claim every part of her.