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I wonder if he’s heard the rumors I planted that Lumos is running a secret spy network out of Val Sans Retour.

Lumos’s dark hair is slicked back, and he looks utterly smashed, as usual. He reminds me of a cheap knock-off Talan. The surface-level similarities are apparent, from the clothing he wears to the rings on his fingers, but he lacks Talan’s most striking characteristic—his heart-shattering, unearthly beauty, the kind that steals breath and makes it hard to think.

“Come on.” Talan’s voice is a sensual whisper. “Let’s look like we’re enjoying ourselves.”

He slides his hand over the small of my back, his palm warming me through the delicate material of my gown, and guides me to an alcove where cushions lay piled over a bench.The heady scent of spiced wine and incense wraps around me, and the delicious hum of magic pulses through the air.

Talan pulls me into his lap, one arm around my waist, and I nestle close against his warm, muscled chest. The man has much strength tightly coiled in his finely carved body, and his power radiates over me like the sun.

“Nia,” he murmurs, “we’re supposed to be in love. Look into my eyes.”

I meet his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the music, the chatter. There is only him, the Dream Stalker, his dark, smoldering gaze making my blood heat. I lick my lips.

Focus, Nia.

I came here to kill him, but first, I have to play the part.

My thoughts become hazy. It’s hard to think straight when I’m this close to someone so perfectly, impossibly beautiful.

He reaches for my throat and slowly strokes his thumb along my collarbone, sending molten heat through my veins. With each brush of his fingers, my rational thoughts evaporate more.

We’re close, body to body, and some of his thoughts seep into my mind.I want to kiss every inch of your skin, to caress you with my tongue. To taste you would be to sip the nectar of an exquisite bloom…

“I think you’ll surrender to me eventually,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle on my back. “And when you do, there won’t be anyone else in your thoughts. Not anymore. Because sometimes, when you look at me, I think you want me to tear your dress off and fuck you so hard, you’ll wake the dead screaming my name.”

A heated flush spreads over my breasts. Am I a game to him, a challenge for him to conquer, the only one who ever saidno?

I should fear him. I should hate him, but some part of my thoughts are under his spell. “So unrelentingly confident.”

His right hand slides around the back of my neck, then into my hair, tangling in my curls. Closing his eyes, he gently brushes his lips against mine, questioningly, his breath mingling with mine.

At the light touch, fire streaks through my blood, and my heart races. He explores my mouth, his lips moving with a slow, sensual intensity. I run my hands over his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the soft fabric. He deepens the kiss, his tongue finding mine. He tastes like mead with a hint of cloves.

He grips the back of my hair and kisses me harder, claiming me, his tongue stroking mine. Molten warmth plummets through my body. His left hand shifts to cup my ass. Beneath the delicate fabric of the dress, my nipples tighten, aching. The thin, silky material torments my skin.

The sensation of his lips against mine is as powerful as a storm. Oh,gods. I shift my hips, an ache building in my core.

As he breaks the kiss with a quiet moan, he tugs my hair back just a little further, exposing my throat. His mouth claims my throat, his tongue marking me with heated brands where my blood pulses. An uncontrollably fiery need builds inside me, and all I can think about is him sliding his hand up the hem of my dress, touching me where I’m slick with heat. I knowexactlyhow amazing it would feel to have his hands on me where I need them.

He lifts his head, his eyes heavy-lidded as he meets my gaze. I’m breathing quickly, my chest flushed and my heart racing. Heknowshow turned on I am. He can hear my heartbeat, see the flush over my skin. The truth is painfully clear.

Only now do I realize that my fingers are gripping the soft fabric of his shirt.

Talan licks his lips, his gaze shifting over my shoulder.

“I think now is our moment,” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Aedan is watching.”

The mission.

Of course.

I inhale sharply, dragging myself back from the depths of desire.

I pull away from him and stand. My nipples are hard against the fabric of my sheer gown, but a Fey wouldn’t feel a moment’s self-consciousness about it, so I try not to think about it, either.

Sliding his hand in mine, Talan leads me to Lord Aedan’s table. The lord stands as we approach. “Your Highness,” he says, raising a glass of mead to us. “I’m so honored to have you here this week.”

Eithne does not stand. “Hello,” she says cooly, staring daggers at me.