Cursed Rebel, page 12
I was left alone with an ache in my chest, tears in my eyes, and Fin at my back. I turned around, wiping my eyes.
Fin didn’t look at me. He just stared off into the trees as he sheathed his sword again and said, “I thought I told you to stay near the tent.”
I wrapped my arms around myself and shrugged. I didn’t feel like I owed him an explanation. In fact, I didn’t feel much like talking at all.
Fin scowled at the ground for a moment, and then sighed. “Are you okay?” he asked in a gentler tone.
Was I? I nodded. Then shook my head. Then shrugged again, because I really didn’t know. But I didn’t feel okay. I felt…wounded. I wished again that I could go home. And at the same time, I wished I could just stay by the river with Fin and watch the stars forever.
Chapter Seventeen
** Lucy **
When we got back to the tent, I wanted to be alone for a while, so I crawled inside while Fin sat down on the edge of the bank and rolled up his jeans to dip his feet in the water. But once I was in the tent alone, I found I didn’t want to think about Ryan, about his confession of love or his angry behaviour at my rejection. Instead, I lay down and listened to Fin humming outside, the babble of the river and the splash as he tossed pebbles into the water.
I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up, I was sticky and stiff, and the light had shifted on the tent walls. The air was thick and warm, and I wondered how long I’d been out.
When I crawled out of the tent, I saw the sun was hanging low in the sky, brushing the treetops. Fin was lying on the edge of the bank, his jeans rolled up to his knees, his shirt off, hands folded behind his head. The fading golden light stroked his body with tender fingers and turned his hair to a brilliant orange-red. There was a faint flush of heat on his cheekbones, and for once, he looked entirely relaxed—I wondered if he was asleep.
Carefully, not wanting to wake him, I slid closer, watching his face. His closed eyelids didn’t flicker, and his chest rose and fell evenly. My eyes followed the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the column of his throat, down to his well-defined pecs and rippled abs. He was an idol of perfection and masculine beauty. Even his pointed ears, peeking out from his rumpled red hair, couldn’t detract from the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
My fingers itched with the urge to touch him, to run my fingers through his hair, and butterflies swam in my stomach at the thought. God, what was wrong with me? Why had I turned Ryan down when he’d finally given me what I’d thought I wanted? Why, when he’d kissed me, had I longed instead for Fin? I couldn’t have feelings for the odd, mercurial, beautiful Faery Lord.
But it didn’t seem as if the rest of me agreed with the rational part of my brain. There was an ache in my chest, restlessness in my stomach. Hell, I couldn’t be falling for Fin…could I?
“Snowdrop?” he murmured sleepily, and I jumped in surprise.
My gaze snapped to his eyes, a deep hazy green under his lashes, and I blushed. A slow grin spread across his mouth.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
I scowled at him. “No.”
His grin widened, flashing his dimples. Damn, why did he have to be so pretty?
“Liar,” he accused playfully, propping himself up on his elbow. He ran his other hand through his hair carelessly. “You may not be fae, Lucy, but you can’t lie to save your life.”
I scowled harder, and he laughed—it was a bright, melodic sound that made an impulsive grin curl my lips. “Shut up,” I grumbled, trying not to laugh with him. He just looked so…alive.
His laughter slowly faded until only the barest hint of a smile clung to his lips, but I could see the laughter still in his eyes. “So…you and Ryder?” he said quietly.
I looked down, twisting my fingers together. “I don’t know. I thought I liked him that way, but…god, I don’t know. Everything is so complicated now. He’s a faery, you’re a faery, I’m a… witch…” I shook my head, sighing.
Fin’s brow creased. “What’s this got to do with me? I’m just the messenger.”
I realised my mistake a second too late, and bit my lip. “Nothing. Of course it has nothing to do with you. I just meant…” Hell, what did I mean? What was I even doing?
I glanced at him from under my lashes, startled by the intense look on his face, the way his green eyes bored into me as if he was trying to mine the truth out of me with his gaze. My heart tripped and stumbled, and I closed my eyes.
Crap. I am screwed, I thought. Quietly, I said, “Maybe it does have something to do with you.”
I heard his soft intake of breath, and I peeked at him warily. He stared at me with hot, hungry eyes, and a heart-stopping smile touched his mouth. “Does that mean you finally trust me?” he asked.
I frowned. “No. Not at all.”
Fin leaned forward, his hand sliding around the back of my neck. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and butterflies battered my stomach. My breathing was unsteady, and my gaze fixed on his mouth, that sensual mouth. He bent his head until his green eyes filled my vision, emerald gems sparkling with mischief and hunger. I tasted his breath on my lips, smelled dirt, leaves and rain on him.
He whispered, “Will you ever trust me?”
My heart was racing, my body yearning toward him. “Never,” I breathed.
His eyes danced. He smiled a brief, blinding smile, and then he kissed me. His lips teased mine with soft, tantalising brushes. A flower of warmth blossomed in my chest, spreading petals out through my body, the roots tangling around my heart. His fingers gripped the back of my neck gently as he tilted his head, his mouth tugging at my lower lip, asking silent permission. My body hummed with adrenaline as I leaned into him, cupping his face and sliding my thumbs along his jaw. I parted my lips, and he dived into my mouth eagerly. I felt as if a part of me exploded like a firework. I was trembling.
Fin released me slowly, his lips lingering on mine for a moment, and we stared at each other with our noses touching. For once, I could read his thoughts on his face, and they made me blush and smile. He smiled too, a little bit crooked and wild.
“Well,” he murmured, “That was…unexpected.”
I giggled, feeling dizzy and as light as a feather, as if I had champagne bubbles running through my veins. Fin brushed a lock of my dark hair back behind my ear, his fingertips tracing my earlobe. He sighed, a sound that was half pleasure and half regret.
“You were right when you said things were complicated now. How am I supposed to hand you over to the King when I want you for myself?”
The reminder of why I was there sobered me, and a little of the fizzing in my body died. “You really don’t have a choice, do you?”
He shook his head. “The King can compel me using my Real Name. If I don’t bring you to him soon, he’ll use that, and I’ll have to march you into the Summer Palace and hand you over to him. He’ll do anything to have you, Lucy. He needs you to reverse the Cu—”
He choked, moving away from me, and my hand hovered over his back uncertainly. I knew he wasn’t literally choking—it was the vow of silence keeping him from telling me something important. The King needed me to reverse what? How could I do anything? Whatever I was, I had no control over it.
“Breathe, Fin. Just breathe,” I said softly, rubbing circles on his back until he gasped in air. Panting, he laid his head on his knuckles, groaning.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore. He rolled over, and I saw the Gaelic words and patterns glowing on his skin as they had before, when he’d tried to tell me I was a witch like my grandmother. They faded slowly, leaving behind raised red marks like burns.
Tentatively, I touched one of the marks, following the looping line of it, and a tingle ran up my arm. Something tugged deep in my gut, and I found myself spreading my fingers on his chest. A word floated out of my mouth, a word I’d never heard before, but I knew what it meant as surely as if it’d been in my own language: “Slainte.”
It meant heal, or health, in Gaelic. And as I said it, I felt the fizzing in my blood condense into a ball in my chest and then rush down my arm to where I was touching Fin. The fizzing spread through my fingers, and as I watched, the red skin under my hand began to disappear, healing. I didn’t know how I was doing it, but it felt as natural and unstoppable as breathing.
Fin gasped, his eyes fluttering as his body bowed under my hand. Afraid I was hurting him, I tried to pull my hand away, but he gripped it and held it tight against his skin, his breathing ragged. He said something in Gaelic that sounded like either a curse or a prayer.
Eventually, the fizzing faded from my hand, and the burns on Fin’s body were entirely healed. Fin let out a long, shaky sigh, and I tugged my hand away, flexing my fingers. They felt fine, normal. I had no idea what I’d just done or how.
“Fin? Are you okay?” I asked cautiously.
He opened his eyes and stared at me with wide, all-consuming black pupils. He blinked twice, and his pupils shrank back to normal, but there was an odd look on his face I couldn’t identify—at least, not in that context. If I had seen him look at me like that at another time, like right after we’d kissed, I might have understood the raw heat and longing.
“Holy mother of mermaids,” he breathed. “What did you just do to me?”
I shook my head. “I…I don’t know. It just…happened. Did I hurt you?”
He laughed. “Hurt me? Christ, no. That was the opposite of pain, Snowdrop. Next time you do that, give a guy some warning first.”
I blushed. “I didn’t know I was going to do that. I didn’t mean to…” To what? Heal him? Or turn him on? Really, I hadn’t meant to do either.
Fin ran his hands over his face and sat up, his face flushed. “That was more unexpected than the kiss. I think…” He paused, clearing his throat as he twisted his body away from me. “Um, yeah, I think I’m going to go for a swim. You should stay here. I won’t be long.”
With that, he vanished into thin air, just as Ryan had earlier. Only, I didn’t feel like crying—I felt like laughing. So I did. I put my head in my hands, and I laughed until my sides ached. I laughed because Fin had kissed me, I’d healed him. Because Ryan had kissed me, I’d turned him away, and I was still stuck in the Otherworld. I had no idea what the hell to do anymore because, suddenly, leaving didn’t seem like such a great idea—not when it meant leaving Fin behind to suffer a punishment worse than death for losing me.
Chapter Eighteen
** Lucy **
The sun was nothing but a red line shimmering on the horizon by the time Fin returned. I was sitting at the entrance of the tent, watching a strange creature fluttering and flopping about on the molten-silver surface of the river. The creature had the upper body of a small bird, with a golden crown and blue wings, but the lower half of a fish with a glittering, scaly green tail. The fish-bird splashed around in circles, singing an ascending tune of five notes over and over.
“It’s called a Flippin. It’s a type of water nymph,” said a soft voice from somewhere behind me.
I looked up as Fin sat down next to me. “Hey, you’re back.”
He grinned. “Obviously. Did you miss me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Terribly. I was so lonely without you.”
His eyes glittered, and he leaned toward me. “Let me fix that then,” he murmured.
Before I could reply, his hands caught my face, and his lips crushed mine. We fell backward into the tent, tangling together as we kissed. His hands in my hair, on my hips, under my shirt. My fingers on his neck, on his biceps, on any skin I could find.
Fin shrugged off his shirt, his perfect body stretching as he lifted it over his head. His hair ruffled, he turned and flicked a hand at the tent entrance, and the door zipped itself shut, trapping us in a bubble of warmth and privacy. My heart raced and my hands shook.
Fin looked down at me with dark, searing emerald eyes, his red hair caught in his lashes, and whispered, “I want to devour you, Snowdrop.”
I swallowed butterflies. Hot. He was so hot, so beautiful, so sexy. “So do it.”
His eyes flashed, and he licked his lips. He flicked his magic hand at me, and my clothes dissolved right off my body. I gasped, suddenly completely exposed.
Fin leaned down over me to murmur in my ear, “Wake up, Snowdrop. Wake up.”
My eyes fluttered open, and Fin grinned down at me. “You were muttering my name in your sleep. Nice dreams?”
I blushed violently and reacted by punching him in the shoulder. “Shut up. It was more like a nightmare anyway,” I lied. Fin smirked, and I remember what he’d said before about me being a bad liar. I blushed deeper, and he chuckled. Rubbing my face, I murmured, “What do you want?”
“Hmph. You’re grumpy when you’re woken up. Come on, Snowdrop. We need to get moving before Ryder leads the Queen’s guards right to us.”
I frowned. “Ryan wouldn’t do that.”
Fin shrugged. “Maybe Ryan wouldn’t, but we’re not in your world anymore, Snowdrop. Here, Ryder will do whatever he needs to, and after you turned down his heartfelt offer of romance earlier, he may not be feeling so kindly toward you or me. So, let’s get going. Chop, chop.” He ducked out of the tent, and I sighed, crawling out after him.
Outside, I got to my feet and stretched. The air was crisp and a little cool, the sun just rising, staining the sky with pale pinks and lilacs, and birds were singing in the trees like a beautiful alarm clock. Fin was knelt by the river, splashing water on his face. When he heard me come out of the tent, he glanced up, water dripping from his lashes. He looked tired, faint smudges under his eyes, and I wondered if he’d slept at all. Still, he smiled at me as he dried his face on his sleeve. Then he flicked a hand at the tent, and it collapsed into a pile of leaves and twigs.
Used to his magic by then, I didn’t even blink. I grabbed my rucksack from where I’d left it next to the burnt-out campfire, and slung it over my shoulders. “Are we ready then?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re eager today. I wonder why that is?”
I shrugged. “Just want to get moving.” So I can get this over with and get the hell out of here.
More than ever, after our kiss, I realised I needed to escape that place—and him. I could not fall for Fin. I couldn’t fall for a faery. Not because he was evil, or a monster—no, I couldn’t do it because eventually I’d have to leave him. I would have to go home, once it was done, and the longer I was in the Otherworld with him, the more attached to him I grew. As it was, it was going to be painful when I returned to my own world. I couldn’t afford to let my feelings deepen, or I didn’t know what would happen. To either of us.
I couldn’t meet his gaze as I said, “Lead away, then.”
Fin was silent for a moment, and then I felt his fingertip under my chin, tilting my face up. I deliberately stared over his shoulder, determined not to meet his beautiful emerald eyes.
“Lucy, look at me. Is this about yesterday? Do you…” He paused, swallowed. “Do you regret kissing me?”
My breath hitched, and I closed my eyes. How was I supposed to answer that? I couldn’t tell him that the kiss had been the most amazing experience of my life, but I was terrified of getting to Summer Court because then he’d leave me, and I wanted to stay with him, there by the river, for as long as possible.
God, I was so pathetic. And stupid. So stupid.
“Well, do you?” Fin rasped, tension in his voice.
I sighed. “No.”
“Then what’s the problem? Lucy?” His breath was on my lips, his forehead brushing mine, and butterflies beat my stomach—hoping he’d kiss me, but dreading it because I was already half in love with him. I didn’t trust myself not to slip even further if he kissed me again.
In a whisper, I blurted out, “I don’t want to leave you.”
He was quiet a moment, only the sound of his breathing and the birds twittering, and then he sighed, “Oh, Lucy.”
He did kiss me then, so softly, just the press of his mouth on mine, and the smell of spring rain, and the taste of mint and sugar. My lips trembled, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close against his chest.
Into my hair, he murmured, “I wish I didn’t have to let you go.”
But there’s nothing I can do. I heard the unspoken words, and they hung between us, the weight of the King’s command and his hold over Fin.
“What happens after I see the King? Do I get to go home? Will I ever see you again?” My voice was scratchy with holding back tears.
I felt Fin tense, his arms tightening around me. He didn’t say anything for a long minute, and I wondered if he would answer at all.
Then he croaked, “Let’s just focus on right now, okay? I don’t want to think about what happens…after. Just…let me enjoy having you for a while, alright?”
I nodded against his chest. “Okay,” I whispered. “Then, right now…right now, I want you to kiss me again. Properly.” I lifted my head, and I saw sadness in Fin’s green eyes before a smooth smile overtook it.
He bowed his head, brushing his lips across my cheek, and murmured, “It would be my pleasure.”
His mouth met mine in a scalding, mind-blowing kiss, as if he was pouring all his worry and uncertainty into it. It was half-wild, all tongues and teeth. It made my heart race and my hands shake.
We stood there, kissing, for what felt like an eternity, and yet not long enough. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard, and Fin opened his mouth, his eyes bright, like he was about to say something important. Then he closed his mouth and just smiled.
He took my hand in his. “Come on. More of that later.”
Chapter Nineteen
** Lucy **
The Summer Palace was astonishing, a massive creation of faery-crystal, vines, huge brightly coloured flowers bursting from every nook and cranny and lilac ivy spilling down the walls like waterfalls. The whole thing glittered and shone in the sunlight, the spires topped with blue and green flags that fluttered like ribbons in the breeze. It was…magical.
