Page 7 of Fey Divinity

Dyfri is sitting on the end of the king sized bed. He is wearing a beautiful white nightgown. It falls to his ankles, and the sleeves reach his delicate wrists. The material is gauzy. Not sheer, but it certainly gives hints of a perfect body.

I tear my eyes away. On the white sheets behind him, red rose petals have been scattered.

My eyes snap back to him. A fair few strands of dark hair are not in the plait I wove into his hair, and they are tumbling past his slender shoulders, all the way down his chest and stomach and curling on the white sheets next to the rose petals.

His eyes are dark and utterly unreadable. There is something different about him, though.

“Your horns!” I gasp.

One elegant hand flies up to his head. He brushes over the spot where his horns should be. Then he lowers his hand and shrugs.

“I assume it will make things easier for you.”

I blink. He thinks I don’t like his horns? Why would he think that?

“Are you going to gawp all night?” he snaps.

His words hit me like a slap, and I rouse myself with a shake. “We don’t have to do anything.”

One perfect eyebrow rises. “Yes, we do.”

I stare at him helplessly.

He rolls his eyes. “The marriage has to be consummated to be completed.”

An awkward, horrible laugh bubbles out of me. “Who’s going to know?”

Dark eyes narrow. So sharply that my heart starts racing in fear for its life.

“They will know.”

Well, that’s not at all ominous. I don’t even want to think about who ‘they’ are, let alone how they will know anything about what happens tonight.

Dyfri continues to glower at me. I’m so confused right now. He is pretty much demanding to sleep with me, yet he looks like he will take a hacksaw to my nuts if I so much as take a step towards him.

“You agreed to this marriage,” hisses Dyfri.

“I did!”

“So, let’s get on with it.” He lies back a little, resting on his elbows and shooting me a death glare.

I gulp. “Umm… do you want to top?”

Both of his perfectly shaped eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline. Colour races across his cheekbones, and he blinks.

He shakes his head. “Maybe my English still requires work.”

Oh gosh. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life. Nothing will ever seem awkward ever again, compared to this. I can feel my cheeks burning so fiercely I’m probably going to be left with permanent scorch marks.

“Um… topping as in… being the person on top… anatomically…not necessarily position wise…”

Dyfri holds up his hand. My mouth snaps shut.

“No, apparently my English is just fine,” Dyfri says while staring at me as if I’m completely crazy.

Silence settles around us. And stretches. Somewhere, a clock ticks.

“I am Dyfri Wyf Jackogi now,” Dyfri says slowly and carefully.