Page 82 of Of Mist and Shadow

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His eyes darkened even more. “Because I can’t stand the thought of his hands on you.”

Thirty-Three

Kalen

Despite a part of me that wanted to stay trapped beneath Tessa’s thighs for the rest of the day, I gently lifted her off my hips and stood. Her cheeks were red, and I could hear the racing of her heart. A warning bell clanged in the back of my mind, reminding me that Tessa was a mortal, I was the Mist King, and the two of us were scarcely allies, let alone friends. Especially not lovers, despite what had happened between us in that dream.

That did not stop the hardening of my cock, even now. I took a good step back. If I stayed near her, I'd kiss her for real this time. No dreams. No training. Nothing but her lips and her curves and my hardness pressed against her.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she argued at my insistence she not try that little trick on Oberon. “He has a voracious…appetite. And you know what kind of ego he has. If he thought I was—”

“Absolutely not.” Despite it being a terrible idea, I could not stand the thought of Oberon’s hands on Tessa’s body. I shuddered. But it was more than that. “Even though you ran, he’ll still see you as his prize. His unsullied bride. He won’t want to consummate your relationship until you’ve wed. So acting sultry won’t tempt him.”

Tessa scowled and glanced at the wall of windows. “Only a male would think that way, as if I were a thing to besullied.”

“Idon’t think that way,” I said darkly. “But Oberon does. He is very particular about his brides. You, of all people, should know that. He won’t even let you all speak without permission.”

She tore her gaze away from the churning storm beyond the windows and cocked her head. “You seem to know a lot about his brides for someone who has never stepped foot inside Albyria.”

“I’ve been inside Albyria. Before it became what it is today.” I shrugged. “As for all the insight into how things are there, Morgan has told me a great deal.”

“Your spy.”

“Yes. My spy.”

“How did you get a light fae to spy for you against her own king?” she asked.

“Morgan’s story is for Morgan to tell and no one else.” I nodded toward the dagger she still clutched in her hand. “Shall we continue?”

Her cheeks turned a beautiful pink as she glanced away. That move had been her idea, but she was embarrassed by it all the same. I tried not to read too much into it.

“A break might be good. I’m pretty hungry,” she admitted.

I swore beneath my breath. We didn’t have much left of the pooka meat reserves, and I had no way of going into the storm to hunt for some more. Anything that had once been left behind in the castle stores was likely long gone by now. Or rotten. Three hundred and seventy-five years is a very long time.

Just another reason why we needed to get out of this moonforsaken place as soon as we could.

I glanced over at the dust-blanketed hearth. “I’ll get a fire going and cook up some meat for you. I’m afraid that’s all we have.”

“And how much, exactly, is that?”

Smart girl. “A few days’ worth. Maybe a week if we can stretch it.”

She paled. “That’s it? What if we’re stuck here for longer than that?”

“We won’t be.” My arms itched to wrap around her, but I kept them right where they were. “I’ll get us out of here. One way or another.”

Tessa nodded, but she did not look convinced.

* * *

We fell into a rhythm over the next few days. First thing in the morning, Tessa and I trained. I taught her how to dodge a blow. I showed her how to sneak silently up behind someone. Her footsteps would never be as silent as a fae’s, but it might be good enough.

Might.

The word haunted me as we sat beside the hearth after another torturously long day. She held her hands close to the blaze of the flaming chair—furniture was all we had to burn now. I found myself drinking in her striking profile. The long slope of her nose. Her slender neck. The wild tangle of deep golden hair the color of sunflowers.

An image popped into my mind, of Oberon grabbing that hair and jerking it to the side while he pressed a blade against her throat. I fisted my hands and turned back to the fire. Tessa was strong and brave and determined as hell. But if Oberon got his hands on her…


Tags: Jenna Wolfhart Fantasy