The prince steals the ripple of unease as he strolls around the table, advancing on Amelia first. He doesn’t pause at her, only allowing his disinterested faded-blue eyes to rinse over her muscular physique before he shifts his attention to Milan.
His head tilts to the side, exposing his neck through the gap of his jacket, and something twists inside of me. His bronzed skin is stained black with shapes poking through the neckline. I’ve never seen anything like it before. These markings shine like wet ink in twisted shapes and curved lines snaring around his flesh.
The prince turns his bored look away from Milan and it lands on me.
I tuck my gaze downwards.
He advances on me, his pace slow and predatory, until he comes to a stop in front of me. A lazy power radiates from him, like the glow off those rarer moon apples.
My breath hitches in my throat as he shifts his hand to reach for me. His fingers touch to my chin, grazing a gentle line all the way up to my bottom lip. Warmth comes from his touch, but there’s a chill to it, deep down, that prickles me all over.
Gently, he swipes and, as he brings his hand back to himself, I catch sight of the blood smeared on his fingertips.Myblood; stains left over from my coughing fit in the corridor.
“You are sickly,” he comments, rubbing his fingers together, further spreading the slight blood stains.
In answer, I manage only a nod. The gesture rustles my curls and lets a few tendrils fall over my shoulder to curtain my downcast face. The pale ashy colour matches my draining complexion as a sickly wave washes over me.
He says nothing more as he reaches out for me again.
The urge to cringe back seizes me. My eyes squeeze shut instead and I brace myself for the chilled-warmth sensation of his touch.
His fingertips dance over a loose curl that grazes my collarbone. He takes it, twisting it around his finger, while rubbing the pad of his thumb over the bristly texture.
This close to me, I can smell the crisp apple on his sweet breath. It tickles the bridge of my nose as he towers over me.
His fingers glide up the curl to the curve of my jaw where they brush over my tingling skin. Tracing my jaw down to my chin, he leaves a warm trail of prickled flesh in his wake.
Then he chucks his finger under my chin and forces my face to align with his.
Still, I keep my gaze downcast, now focused on the fullness of his rosy lips. Like all the fae, there is no hair around his mouth—no stubble to be taken care of.
“Look at me, human.”
His command sends tingles down my spine.
I look up, loosening a choked breath, and something curdles in my belly.
Fuck, he’s beautiful. I mean, all the dark fae are. Butthis one...
His ink-black hair, lopsided crown as though he just threw it on before leaving his world for ours, and eyes like shards of glass. He’s been sculpted from marble then painted a soft brownish shade, like honey in the right gentle light.
Holding my gaze, he simply watches me for a long moment.
Finally, he shatters our connected stares and wanders his attention around my face. He pauses on a blemish tucked at the lobe of my ear. The urge to hide it with hair prickles my fingers.
Pressure applies at my bottom lip; his thumb dragging the swollen flesh downwards to reveal the rows of my teeth. For some reason I cannot imagine, he inspects my teeth with a detached look.
His thumb shifts upwards to hook around my teeth, then pries apart my lips.
Running his gaze around my mouth, he asks with a voice like sharp glass, “What is your ailment?”
Ailment...
It takes me a moment to recall that word. I have heard it once before, back when I saw the apothecary shopkeeper and I was just sixteen Bounty’s old.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back, keeping my voice low and submissive. Though it’s hard to speak with my mouth pried open. “No one does.”
Fingers slipping away from my tingling face, he draws back a half-step and eyes me from a small distance, head-to-toe. As he stands there, his hand has dropped to the lacing of my poorly done-up bodice. He toys with the strings, a furrow digging deep between his brow, as though he’s lost in thought.