I screamed.
Wilder hissed a laugh. He was enjoying this way too much.
Suspended in falling motion, the wind resistance battered my face, but my eyes wouldn’t close. They were fixed on the ground. The ground that was careening up toward us.
“YOU BAST—ARGH!”
My howl got cut off as his wings snapped out, slowing us, causing my stomach to vault into my mouth; the jarring motion set my teeth on edge.
We smoothed out into a glide, allowing me to swallow the dryness blasted into my mouth by the roaring wind current.
Wilder uncurled a wolfish grin. “That serves you right for going all fae on me.”
I bristled. “Well, if you’d acted like the aged, run-down heap of bones you’re supposed to be and not tried to intimidate my brother, I wouldn’t have needed to.”
Wilder gained height with a few powerful blasts of his wings. He was smirking.
Ass.
“Fae society doesn’t work like that.”
“Fae society can go hang,” I retorted, scowling.
“Mm.” An insufferable response when added to that faint smile. “Well, I promise that when you are a fae, maneuvers like that will make you feel incredible.”
I snorted softly, ruefully, because he might have a point.
Wilder began pushing us up, up, up until we were soaring higher than I’d ever dreamed of going. Something clicked as we stopped and hovered above a cloud. As if he was waiting for something.
“Not again,” I groaned.
We plummeted. I clamped my mouth closed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me squeal.
Auntie grunted. I think he heard enough of that last night.
We leveled out, my blush deepening as Auntie’s laughter sounded inside my mind.
Wilder appeared not to have noticed. He was shining with the rush, the exhilaration. Even the scars on his cheeks were gone, creased and folded into the lines of his face. Those smiling eyes moved to me. “Lie back for a moment,” he said, painting images of legs entangled, of breathless gasps. “I’ve got you.”
The heat on my cheeks still stinging, I glanced down and saw we’d come to rest atop a mighty cloud, the color of white marble with a subtle hint of rose-colored morning. All whipped cream and candy floss. Hidden from the world below, I let that boldness he always incited ignite. “You want to watch me?”
There was something a little too strained in the smile he gave me. “Of course. But that’s nothing new. I’ve always had a hard time looking anywhere else with you nearby.”
Always. “Even before I pinned you?”
He let out a reluctant laugh. “Darling, as much as I’d like to tell you differently, you’re not the first person to do that.”
A wall slammed up. My reply was stiff, “I wasn’t saying—”
Wilder cut across me. “But you are the first person to make me submit.”
Words utterly failed me. I could only gape and say, “Oh.”
He murmured, “And you will be the last.”
His expression carried a weight that had me reeling. Something locked and tightened in my chest. It felt like a prophecy and a promise.
“Relax, Serena.”
A gentle purr started up again and made me soften. I released my hold on his neck and let go, trusting my body to his arms. Wilder dipped a bit and I twisted slightly, looking down to see us skimming over the cloud surface. It was akin to skating on the ice that the villagers back home had enjoyed whenever in winter’s grip.
Wilder slowed, and as we floated, his wings whipped up puffs of pearly-gray. He pulled me in, and in an even tighter embrace we dove straight through mist and drizzle, and out on the other side of the cloud. Heart palpating, blood singing, I looked up and gasped. Wilder’s golden hair had become laced with thousands of raindrops, each one glistening in the sun’s rays and filled with a melting pot of color.
A crown for a king.
Curious, I reached up with my fingertips. A well of emotion that couldn’t be denied made me open my mouth and say, “Wilder, I …”
I trailed off because to finish that sentence felt too dangerous—maybe even destructive.
Thoughts in turmoil, I was completely blindsided when he ducked down to kiss me lightly. Then he licked up my face.
I jerked back. A reflex. But I couldn’t exactly go anywhere as he did it again. And again. Caught between disgust and amusement, I waited for him to stop to ask, “What was that for?”
A sheepish grin. Something I’d never thought to see on such a hard face. “You looked tasty.”
I clamped my lips together, but they couldn’t shackle the laughter from spilling out. A breathless but pure sound.
“Was it that bad? Serena?”
My name sounded like a laugh and a prayer on his lips. That thought caught me in its grasp, making me want to burst into light and glow like a star in the heavens. And I forgot.
I forgot that I was young and he was old—at least by human standards.
I forgot how terrified I was of rejection.
And I spoke three words. “I love you.”
I stayed fixed on his eyes, a hole burning in my gut, waiting for his reaction.
And something slipped. And I saw my mistake.
Wide eyes, inflamed nostrils, furrowed brow. Shock and fear and wariness.
Gods, that hurt.
His expression soon evened out … to something worse. A sad smile which was damningly close to pity. “Valo—those words shouldn’t be said lightly to a fae.”
Lightly.
That alone was enough to hollow me out.
Wilder continued. “After marriage or the mating bond, claiming love is the most powerful and significant binding that we recognize.”
Incensed, I didn’t wait for him to finish. “You don’t think it’s the same for humans?”
A muscle tweaked near his lip; he looked stressed. “I think that with their shorter lifespans, they’re more likely to rush feelings. They’re also far more prone to wanting reassurance and permanence in love. And as strange as it sounds, once you’ve lived for centuries, and know that barring disease or injury you’ll live for many more, you realize that nothing is forever. Not unless you’re lucky enough to find your mate.”
That’s when he broke off; he couldn’t look me in the eye.
Where was this coming from?
“So, what are you saying? Don’t you want …”
Me? Us? Small words that I couldn’t seem to utter.
Kind eyes held me as he replied. “I want us to be sure of each other before we say and do things that change us permanently.”
That drove the breath from my lungs, rendering me silent. Because I was sure. Clearly, he wasn’t.
Wilder dove again, not waiting for my null response.
A sticky silence settled, and my courage to push for clarity evaporated. I surrendered to it, consciously unknotting the pockets of tension claiming my body. But without conversation, other thoughts—other fears—circled and preyed again. Sometime later, I crumpled and gave them a voice. “D’you think Tysion will have gone back to Dimitri?”
“I don’t know,” he answered quietly. “But I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”
My muscles froze and my gut boiled. “No. I don’t want people shielding me. You are never to give yourself up to her. Understood?”
“I will do what I must, valo,” he murmured.
His gaze locked onto the horizon and stayed there. He wouldn’t even look at me. It felt useless to argue, but I wondered if he knew what it would’ve done to me if those arrows had found his heart.
The day blazed by on swift wings and few words spoken. I hoped the lull on his part was simply because we were headed toward danger. But that night, curled up in the canopy after dinner, his newfound reserve became obvious. Wilder held me—gingerly, and despite my attempts to nuzzle his neck, he remained stiff and unresponsive.
I sensed a barrier had gone up, and worse, it was obvious my declaration had caused the distance.
Too much of a coward to bring it up, I unleashed another string of questions, all on what his plan was for tomorrow. Anything to get him to talk to me.