Page 24

Summer

“ L ike this?” I ask, my voice soft and strained.

Wyn leans closer, his breath a warm whisper against my ear. “Almost.”

The sword is forgotten as my focus shifts to his solid presence behind me, the heat radiating from his chest, the way his fingers linger longer than they should. When he steps back, the sudden coolness on my skin makes me sway and burn for more of his touch.

“Try the lunge again,” he says, his tone gruffer, as if he’s trying to mask how he’s feeling.

I obey, more to distract myself than any desire to hone my non-existent fighting skills.

My feet scuff against the ground as I extend forward, and he circles me, his gaze sharp. It’s not just appraisal. The energy behind his focus is heavier, like a thunderstorm building in the distance. As if he’s holding the reins of his control extremely tightly.

He’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be .

“That looks good,” he says, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile, dimples flashing.

A sharp ache blooms in my chest that’s nearly unbearable.

I lower the sword, chaos churning inside me. “I think that’s about all I can take of sword lessons today,” I say softly. “You’re definitely too distracting.”

Wyn’s eyes lock on mine, dark green and unreadable. For a moment, neither of us moves.

The forest that enfolds the creek is too quiet, as if all its creatures are holding their breath along with me, waiting for Wyn’s next move.

Then he steps closer, close enough that I can see every glittering freckle dusting his nose and cheeks, the way his lips part as if he’s about to speak—but he doesn’t.

Instead, he brushes a stray strand of hair from my face with an unsteady hand.

His fingers trail down to my jaw, tipping my chin up.

“You’re the distracting one, Summer,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “And in the interests of full disclosure? I can hear what you’re thinking right now. Loud and clear.”

I could laugh or make a joke, but the air between us feels too fragile, too charged, and I don’t want to break the spell. “Guess we’re both a mess,” I manage, though the words trip over my tongue.

He runs his hand over my arm, fingers tracing the dark vines and purple irises. “Nice glyphs.”

“They’re tattoos,” I reply.

“ Tattoos . That’s what I meant.”

“Did you put these on me?” I ask.

“ Me ? I’m not an artist. How can you not remember getting them? Oh— of course… it’d be those twisted Shade Court fuckers.”

A chill rolls through me. I glance down at the ink staining my arms. What kind of asshole marks someone permanently without their permission?

“Please… let’s not talk about them right now,” I beg.

His gaze drops to my lips, and the world tilts. He leans in, slow enough that I could pull away if I wanted to—but I don’t. When his mouth meets mine, it’s like a match dropped in gasoline.

I’m instantly ablaze with wanting him. Needing to feel his weight pinning me down on the soft grass. Against a tree. Anywhere.

The kiss is firm, searing, and every nerve in my body lights up at once, buzzing so hard it hurts. His hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer, and I cling to his shoulders, the metal edges of his jacket digging into my fingers, grounding me as my knees threaten to buckle.

The faint taste of salt and something else—Wyn’s own sweet flavor—floods my senses. His scent surrounds me, woodsmoke and pine, and I lose track of how to breathe and stop myself from whimpering like a fool. Then he backs me against the trunk of a giant elm tree, and I stop trying.

One hand wraps around the back of my neck, his thumb strumming a moan from my throat.

“Gods, yes,” he says. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you make that sound.”

His lips take mine again, and I smile against his kiss, panting into his mouth as I fumble for the fastenings on his pants.

“Wait,” he huffs, seizing my fingers in a harsh grip and pressing them to his chest.

He distracts me by sliding his kiss down the long muscle of my neck, sucking and biting softly. His mouth trails fire along my jaw to the hollow below my ear. I shiver, heat pooling low in my belly as his breath skates over my skin.

The bark of the tree digs into my back, but I barely notice it.

All I can feel is Wyn—his body pressed against mine, his hands cradling my face, his lips stealing my every breath.

The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, dappling us in golden light.

Somewhere nearby, water ripples and flows, but it feels like it’s another realm away.

“Summer,” he murmurs, his voice rough and uncertain. His forehead presses to mine, his hands trembling as they slip lower, framing my hips. “Tell me to stop.”

Stop? That word doesn’t exist in my vocabulary right now. I can’t move, can’t think past the way his thumbs brush over the waistband of my shorts, his fingers flexing like he wants to rip them off me. My breath hitches. Everything inside me pulls taut, straining toward him, aching for more.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” I whisper, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears.

“You don’t understand,” he says. His lips find mine again, hungry, desperate.

He kisses me like I’m something he can’t have but can’t live without, and I’m drowning in it, lost in the way he tastes like sweet, tortured longing.

“I do understand,” I whisper against his lips to soothe him, even though I don’t. Not fully. Not when his hands drift lower, his touch igniting a fire that scorches every part of me .

“Summer, I can’t…” He pulls back just enough for our eyes to meet. “I won’t let this go further. I can’t give you what you deserve. What you need. Not tonight. Not here.”

A hot knot of pain tightens in my chest at his words. I hate how much it hurts even though I know he’s trying to protect me, trying to protect us.

His lips find mine again, harder this time, hungrier.

His kiss devours me, like he’s silently communicating everything he can’t say out loud—fear, longing, the ache of almost losing me to the nix.

His hand skims over the curve of my waist, then lower, sliding around to the small of my back, tilting my hips, pressing me firm against him.

I gasp at the hard heat of him, a raw surge of need shooting straight up my spine. He rocks into me, groaning, his movements jerky, like he’s losing control.

He wants this as much as I do. And knowing that undoes me.

His hand glides over my stomach, then lower, brushing over the place where I need him to be ruthless, his touch maddeningly light.

My fingers curl around his forearm, desperate for something to hold onto as he circles and teases over the damp fabric. His thumb finds the right spot, and the perfect blend of friction and pressure pulls a sound from my throat that should embarrass me as my eyelids drift closed.

“Eyes on me, Summer. I need you to look at me when you come apart.”

I obey, hypnotized by the molten gold swirling in his green irises.

“That’s it. Let go for me,” he says, his voice deeper, darker as he rests his forehead against my temple and dips beneath the band of my shorts, skin on delicious skin. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

I can’t answer, not when he shifts a little, his fingers pressing firmly enough to make me gasp. My head tilts back against the tree, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as he works me to a crescendo of sensation that leaves me teetering on the edge.

“I said look at me, Summer.”

My eyes fly open, and he gives a growl of satisfaction. His lips trail back to mine, claiming them in a kiss that’s zero control and maximum chaos, even as his hand continues its tormenting rhythm.

The late afternoon sun feels too warm on my skin, amplified by the heat in my veins. Every nerve in my body is strung tight, every sense focused on Wyn. On the way he moves, slow, but unrelenting. On the way his whispers coax moan after broken moan from me.

When I finally come apart, it’s like drowning and breaking the surface all at once. My body shakes, a low sound escaping my lips that he swallows in a desperate kiss before his teeth settle around the long muscle in my neck, clamping down as his hips buck.

Instead of panic, a wave of euphoria rolls over me as I wait for him to bite me. To mark me like a wolf would… like a mate.

But he doesn’t. He just curses against my skin as I cry out.

For a moment, everything fades—time, place, doubt.

Fear of what might happen to me in this strange land full of creatures like the nix.

Fear of what’s happening back at Gravenshade Hall.

And the ever-present worry gnawing at my mind about where the crazy leader of the Wild Hunt has gone, and what he might do next .

It all disappears, and there is only Wyn, holding me as I shudder, his hands steadying me even as his lips press soft, lingering kisses to the corners of my mouth, my cheeks, my temples.

The world slowly comes back into focus—the rustling leaves, the brackish scent of the river on the breeze, the dying light of the sun filtering through the trees.

Wyn pulls back, his face tight, his jaw set as though he’s forcing himself to let me go.

He doesn’t say anything for long minutes. Neither do I.

Breathing hard, he brushes his nose against mine. “That was a hell of a lesson,” he says, his voice ragged but laced with humor. “I learned quite a lot.”

I laugh, soft and breathless, and reach for his sword belt. “About me? Weren’t you meant to be the teacher?”

“A devoted pupil in this case.”

Hooking my fingers in his belt, I tug him close again. “Your turn.”

“Wait,” he says, stepping back. “I can’t.”

A chill prickles over my skin, and my stomach aches from his rejection. “Wyn,” I whisper.

He takes another step back, and then another. As much as it hurts not to be touching him, I refuse to reach out. I don’t beg him to return.

Hands raking through his hair, he paces back and forth, then stops in front of me and finally speaks. “It might be forbidden to touch you, but that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about it. Every moment. Every damn night for the last seven years. I care about you, Summer. I always have.”

“If that’s true, then why didn’t you come find me sooner? ”

“I promised my sister—”

A hollow laugh erupts from me. “Your sister the Unseelie Queen?”

“Yes. I promised her I’d wait seven years before I tracked you down.”

“She dislikes me that much?”

“No. While I was busy following you around like a wolf on the hunt, she was your faithful, constant friend. Brought you from the Court of Merits to the safety of Talamh Cúig, my home. Made sure you were sent back to the human realm. Kept you safe from all fae, including me.”

“So what changed? Why did you suddenly turn up in the human realm, spying on me in the Vandersons’ garden?”

“A fae’s vow is unbreakable. As promised, I waited seven years. Merri hoped I’d forget you during that time. But I could never. The day after the time limit expired, I went through a portal in a cave in my land.”

“Why?”

“To find you.”

“But why ?”

“Because I needed to guard you. Keep you safe. I feared the Raven Realm, Landolin’s Shade Court, wasn’t finished with you, and I was right.”

“But why am I your responsibility? I don’t even remember my time here. Or you at all back then.”

His gaze drops to the ground between us, fingers twitching in anger or annoyance. Hard to say which.

“I can’t tell you,” he finally says.

“What? ”

“I can’t say why. It’s not safe. When I can tell you, I will. I promise.”

“Then at least explain why it’s forbidden for us to go further?”

“I…” He swallows hard, a blush creeping up his neck.

“My sister is overprotective. Years ago, not long before you left my court, a mage cursed me with a terrible fate, but then another gifted me with a sliver of hope, if only I could resist what I want the most. You . Merri thinks you’re part of the curse unfolding, part of my downfall, and that I’ll be fine if I stay away from you. ”

“That’s ridiculous, Wyn.”

“She forbade me from… getting close to you. To appease her, I said I wouldn’t. She’ll be furious when she learns I’ve brought you here—closer to danger.”

“Well I’d be much worse off if Landolin had gotten his creepy hands on me.”

“Undoubtedly. But then he’d suffer deeply for every harm he did to you.

The hunter would become the hunted. I’d make sure of it.

” His lips press into a thin line as he steps forward and brushes hair off my face.

“Come on. Let’s return to camp and get some rest. It was the middle of the night when we left Gravenshade Hall, daytime here when we slipped through the veil. We’ve been awake far too long.”

As he stalks off toward the trees, a thought occurs to me. “Wait… What did you say to me while we were in the lake earlier? In a different language?”

“Our dinner will be cold. Let’s go eat.”

“That’s definitely not what you said.”

He freezes, still facing away from me. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s a lie. ”

“Fine.” Twigs crack under his boots as he swings abruptly around, wild eyes flashing. “I said… don’t worry, dear one. You are safe.”

“Is that all of it?”

Several beats pass as his throat bobs, his gaze scanning the gnarled tree trunks and bramble behind me.

“It isn’t?” I ask. “Then you’d better tell me the rest, or I’ll think you’re a coward.”

“You are loved,” he mutters.

“Pardon?”

“I said that you are loved.”

“Do you mean by my dead family?” I ask. “The distant, living relatives that won’t speak to me?”

He shakes his head.

“No? Then you must mean I’m loved by Zylah and Kurt.”

“No, by Merri… and me.” He spins on his heel and stomps through a narrow pathway between the trees, his dark hair lit by the last rays of a burnt orange sunset.

Okay. He loves me. So does his sister, apparently.

I take several long breaths to calm my racing heart.

“Summer,” he shouts, his voice close, as if he’s waiting nearby. “Hurry up or you’ll get eaten by a two-headed othrius. Don’t make me come and get you. I’d love nothing more than another excuse to throw you over my shoulder again.”

I spend a moment hoping he’ll do exactly that. Then I remember a fae beast might be hunting me, let out an embarrassing squeak, and scurry after Wyn.