Prince of Air and Darkness (The Darkest Court)

If I weren’t so damn tired and drained I would let myself go. Let the wings and feathers and emptiness take me away so I can drift. But if I do that now, I may never come back.

The Queen would come for Smith instead to coax my return.

So I stay in this form and I walk.

The campus is quiet; everyone’s off enjoying the long weekend before our next term of classes starts on Tuesday. I have no destination in mind, just a need to move and escape whatever it was that caught me by the throat in my room when I looked at that gift.

It was a gift.

“Hey, Lyne, slow down!”

If my feet don’t start obeying my orders instead of his, I’m going to have to chop them off. We pass through the campus commons. The fountain burbles, cascading water illuminated by the enchanted ghostlights just under the surface of its pool. I’m nearly past it when Smith slips in front of me.

He clasps my shoulders and I jerk to a stop. He doesn’t let go. He watches me, hair falling over his wrinkled forehead, worry twisting the curve of his lips.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

Yes. “No.”

He scowls. “Look, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep it. But I wanted to get you something because I know you’re tutoring me when you don’t actually have time for it and I...” His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and my glamour tingles when the ley line tenses. “I wanted to thank you for that.”

For a moment, only the noise of the fountain trickling and quiet splash of something hitting the surface.

His jaw works, muscles tightening. “Well, for more than that. I’ve been thinking a lot.” His fingers spasm on me like he can’t decide if he should let me go or not.

I wait for that decision with bated breath.

His grip tightens and I want to weep. “After what happened at the bar, I thought that maybe you were trying to protect me and then I started thinking about...well, shit, everything. And I talked to Sue and Sebastian because I wasn’t sure I was remembering things right. After talking with them, I kind of figured out that you probably didn’t know your mother had kidnapped me and maybe I’ve been overreacting by blaming you for what she did.”

Dark blue eyes hold my gaze and I swear his pulse has sped up, or else mine has. I’m hopeless, because I’m going to kiss him again, maybe take it further this time, even though I can’t.

Stop this. Stop him before he says something that can’t be undone.

“Roark.” His hands drop and he takes a half step back. “Do you want—?”

“I don’t want you.”

Stabbing him would have been easier for both of us. The ley line screeches against my glamour, a flare sharp and painful enough I fear it left bloodied claw marks on my skin. His face crumples, but he doesn’t retreat from the savage lie I threw at him.

“You kissed me in the garden at the ball,” he points out, his voice mostly steady.

“A mistake brought on by adrenaline.”

His chin rises and his eyes flash in a very un-Smith way that leaves my stomach dropping. “And in the alley?”

How the fucking hell did the tables turn? It’s my job to throw Smith off guard, to taunt and smirk and tease and infuriate. He can’t do this to me. Not tonight. Any other night, I would be strong enough to handle it.

I scramble for an excuse. The falsehood comes too easily to my lips, oily and toxic. “I was lonely and you were a willing distraction.”

“You don’t mean that.” He crosses his arms, but doubt still unsettles him.

“I do.” Those two words sound petulant, even to me.

“That’s all it takes to get your attention, huh? Well, guess what? I’m still willing.”

Touché. Air squeaks from my lungs and Smith’s smile glitters. He’s winning and he knows it.

His voice dips, rough, smoldering. “I want you, Roark.”