Page 27

Severin

Whatever this is with Hannah, I need answers to figure it out.

And Lukendevener certainly isn’t helping. The dragon stares at me for several prolonged moments, his face completely impassive but for one lifted eyebrow. Finally, he says, “Can you repeat the question?”

Goddess, why did I give up being feared? If I were feared, I could simply torture the answer out of him instead of being the one tortured. And make no mistake, talking to him about Hannah is the very worst sort of torture.

I grind my teeth together in frustration, then force myself to bite out the words. Again . “If two people combine the essence of their magic, does it cause any type of reaction?”

“Hmm.” He begins to pace back and forth across the central area of his library, his wings brushing the hanging clusters of wisteria flowers and setting them swaying.

Since I couldn’t sleep, I stayed up most of the night researching everything I could find on Hannah’s magical power. Fatigue means I have even less patience than usual, and his dithering is getting on my last nerve.

“When you say ‘reaction,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“A physical reaction.”

“That’s hardly edifying.” The dragon halts, his tail swishing back and forth. “I can’t answer your question if I don’t have enough details.”

“A sexual reaction.” I slam my hands onto the table and push to standing. “There. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not particularly, but it is much more specific.” He stalks off, heading for one of the labyrinthine hallways.

“Where are you going?”

“To search for Cassius’s studies from 1649.”

“You don’t know where they are? This is your library. How can you not know where they are?”

Instead of answering, he disappears around a corner. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Who knows when I’ll see him again. Ten minutes? A day? A year?

“I can’t stay here,” I mutter, stalking from the room.

Armed with answers or not, it’s time to find Hannah.

The rich smells of baked goods and berries tease my nose right as loud cries of “Pizza” assault my ears. Slice of Life is full of a mix of humans and shadow fae, with more of my people lined up outside the door.

And who can blame them? The poorly staffed kitchen at the palace continues to subject us to porridge that is somehow both watery and lumpy. If this had happened back when I was leading battles, I’d assume the chef is a rebel with a dastardly plot to overthrow me via inadequate breakfasts.

Rune gives me an “all-clear” nod from where he stands against the back wall of the restaurant, his eyes cool and assessing as they constantly scan the crowd.

“King Severin.” Blue flies toward me, her little face glowing, literally, with both magic and happiness. “See how the pixies thrive! Everyone agrees we have all the best pizzas.”

“You’ve done well,” I admit.

“Will you join your betrothed?”

At a table only a few feet away, Hannah lifts a bite of waffle to her mouth, leaving a smear of purple syrup on her lips. Goddess, I want to lick it from her.

I move forward, crossing into a spell of silence. The sounds of the café fall away to be replaced by Hannah’s startled gasp as she catches sight of me.

“Severin.” Those big brown eyes stare up at me, full of questions. That distracting mouth glistens with syrup.

Before rational thought can stop me, my thumb swipes over the plumpness of her bottom lip, gathering her sweetness. Holding eye contact, I suck it into my mouth, berries and sugar and Hannah bursting across my tongue.

“You two need to get a room,” Autumn says.

“I don’t know. They certainly didn’t need a room last night.” Skye’s eyes go wide, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, whispering a muffled, “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Hannah told her friends about last night. My lips curl. Perhaps seducing her for the year will be even more likely than I thought.

Yet none of my plans will matter if Hannah doesn’t win one of the bride trials. I turn to her. “We must practice your magic.”

“But I know what it is now.”

“So you have full mastery of it?” I arch an eyebrow. “Can you assure me you’ll win the next trial?”

Her mouth opens, ready to say yes, but she lets out a gust of air. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

She gulps more of her hot beverage, and before she can set the mug down, I take it from her hands. What is this drink humans seem so addicted to? I sip at it, enjoying the initial bite of its bitter earthy flavor, which is soon mellowed by milky sweetness. “Not bad.”

“You take that back.” Autumn clutches her cup between her palms. “Coffee is the nectar of the gods.”

“It’s too sweet for that,” I say.

“Here.” Hannah retrieves her mug, drinks the last of it, and pours dark brown liquid into it for me. “Try it black.”

This is more like it! The rich bitterness rolls across my tongue without being undercut. I grunt in approval and take another drink.

When she stands, I snag the uneaten wedge of waffle from her plate and rip into it with my fangs, the maple syrup mixing with the acerbic bite of the coffee in a delightful way.

“First my coffee. Now my waffle.” Hannah stands, hands on hips, her eyes glittering with amusement. “What are you going to take next?”

“Everything.”

She grins as if I’ve made a joke, but I did not speak in jest.

I want everything from her.