Page 31 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)

Wild Horses

DEVI

“ A re we there yet?” I ask after hours of rappelling down cliffs, hiking across rocky hills, then rinse and repeat.

We’ve been at this for hours, and we’re nowhere near the bottom of the trench where the main road leads into the city. I’m sweaty and deliciously sore—meanwhile, Seth doesn’t look remotely tired. We’re halfway down a particularly steep stretch, and I’m praying this is the last one.

“How come you’re so good at this?” I grumble.

“I used to work on the Aelioans, rappelling down their sides for repairs and such.”

I stare up at the nearest wind turbine looming above us, wondering how anyone could rappel down those slick, steep metal sides in this weather, while giant, razor-sharp blades slice the air inches away.

“Freya’s only son, working in dangerous conditions, risking his life for some power plant? Why do I find that hard to believe?”

He grins from ear to ear. “Believe what you want.” He wipes the drizzle from his face, his magic letting more and more rain through. “We’ll have to make camp soon. This typhoon is getting too strong for me to deal with, and by the time it dies down, it’ll be too dark.”

I look down, but we’re still pretty high up, and a cloud of rising mist prevents me from seeing the ground. “I wouldn’t mind a break.”

A lightning strike booms above our heads, and rubble pelts down the cliff. The rope in my hand slacks. First slowly, then all at once.

I gasp, my boots skidding on the slick wall as I scramble for purchase.

A sickening line of fear sizzles up my spine.

There’s nothing beneath me.

Nothing to grip.

Just wet, unforgiving rock and a foggy, dizzying void.

Percy’s wings flutter near my heart, his nails digging into my skin as we start to fall.

Next thing I know, Seth slams into me. My forehead hits the rock, hard, and the whiplash dizzies me for a beat. The force of his rescue sends us arcing on the rope in a jarring swing before we crash into the cliffside again. His arms lock under my shoulders, clasped tight across my front.

“Fuck,” he grunts in my ear. “You okay?”

My voice trembles. “For now.”

A loud, ominous sound grates from above, and I flatten myself to the cliffside. Seth shields me from the incoming onslaught of rocks with his body, his muscles twitching with every hit.

I screw my eyes shut, my nails digging into his arms.

If his rope breaks, too…

The harsh grate of shifting stones crescendos before it ends as abruptly as it began, and Seth moves behind me. “That was the last of it. We’re okay, but the rope is stuck between us. It’ll be easier for me to get us down safely if you pivot so we’re face to face.”

The adrenaline in my system screams at me not to move, that I’m about to fall, but I force my fists to open and mold my palms to the almost vertical wall in front of me. “Okay.”

Seth slips a knee between my thighs to support some of my weight, but the thick backpack between us makes for an awkward hold. “Spin around slowly, and hold on tight.”

The cold wind and rain batter us in relentless, punishing waves. Seth’s magic doesn’t shield us anymore, and I figure he’s too busy keeping me from plummeting to my death to channel it. I’m trembling all over, fingers numb and boots sloshing with water.

I twist my upper body, slipping my right arm under the rope until I can grasp his shoulder, then thread my arms around his neck.

“Easy.” He braces his other foot against the cliff to keep us steady. “Now, I’m going to remove my knee. Wrap your legs around my waist, alright?”

I nod, following his instructions. Seth wraps one steady, powerful arm around me, the other one holding the rope, and I muffle a sigh of relief into the crook of his neck, unwilling to show just how terrified I am.

“I got you, witch,” he whispers.

Seth maneuvers us so we can resume our descent. My heart beats like a flock of frantic birds in my ribcage—enormous, wild, unsteady—until, finally, my boots touch solid ground. My knees buckle, but Seth catches me, keeping me upright. He leans in, resting his forehead on mine.

“By the spindle,” he whispers, “I’ve never felt such relief.”

I don’t answer right away. My knees, my arms…my entire body is shaking, and not only from fear, but from his heat.

We’re both trembling like lost petals in the wind, his rushed breaths warming my cheek.

He squeezes the nape of my neck again, his thumb caressing the space behind my ear.

His eyes are almost completely purple, the storm inside them blown away, replaced by something far more dangerous.

Want. Need. A desperate softness I don’t know how to carry.

He dips his head down to claim my mouth in a bruising kiss, and my brain screams in warning.

I sink a hand into his damp hair, nails scratching his scalp, and tug him closer.

My other hand slams against his chest, but I don’t shove him away.

I clutch. Desperate. Frantic. Caught between a hunger to survive and the fire of his touch.

My whole body lights up like I’ve stepped into his lightning, relief and madness thrumming through my veins. We’ve been quite literally swallowed by a cloud, the world around us reduced to mist and the rock beneath our feet, and I can’t see beyond him.

Beyond this kiss, this moment.

Seth’s gaze drifts lower, catching on the raindrop trembling at the edge of my chin before trailing down the length of my body. The way my drenched tunic clings to every curve doesn’t go unnoticed. His gaze penetrates me, and this time, there’s no glass wall between us, nothing to keep us apart.

“We seem to have a kink for showers,” he says, darting his tongue out to taste my neck.

“Hands off, pretty boy,” I ground out.

If he keeps touching me, I’ll cave in like those damn rocks he saved me from.

I’m shaking, holding myself back from reaching for him, because if we keep tripping into each other’s mouths, we’ll end up having sex. The temporary indulgence would not be worth the hassle, but gods, wouldn’t it be nice to taste every inch of his dark, unblemished skin…

He links our fingers and pins them to the wall above my head, water dripping from his lashes. “You kissed me back,” he places a butterfly kiss on my collarbone. “Don’t deny it.”

“It doesn’t count. It was a ‘fuck yes, we’re alive’ kiss.”

“Should I kiss him too, then?” Percy squeaks, crawling out from the neckline of my shirt, his wings damp and wrinkly. “Or scold him for getting us into this mess in the first place?”

Seth freezes, blinking down at my Faeling. He’d probably forgotten where Percy was tucked, and I laugh—a dry, breathless sound that tastes of fear and adrenaline.

“Settle down, Perce,” Seth says, shaking off the surprise. “I’ve saved your mistress’ life twice, now.”

I try to wrestle myself free, but the more I wiggle, the tighter his hold becomes.

“If not for you, I’d be home right now— not on some dumb, dangerous mission,” I say.

It’s technically true.

“You’re not sorry to be here, witch. That much, I’m sure of.”

He kisses me again, and because I’m apparently still high from the whole rescue heroics, I kiss him back. Tongue and all. That smug bastard. His fingers remain laced with mine, the feel of our hands entwined tethered to the low, aching heat between my legs.

“Can you both stop?” Percy whines as he balances himself from my cleavage to my shoulder. “I’m freezing.”

I angle my mouth away from Seth, accidentally allowing him better access to my neck, and he drags his teeth along my pulse point, making my clit throb.

“Get off, pretty boy. I’m losing patience,” I croak.

If Percy wasn’t here, I’d let Seth fuck me against that wall, and that’s the ugly truth.

“So touchy today,” he says with a lopsided smirk, finally releasing my hands. “We’re near the main road, now, so there’s bound to be a cave nearby for us to dry off and spend the night. Come on.”

We scramble down the hill until we reach a massive pile of debris—driftwood and remnants of what might once have been a house—heaped against the cliff base. A tunnel just wide enough for us to squeeze through beckons at the bottom.

As a Spring Fae, I’m weary of anything that looks remotely like a lair. “Should we worry about disturbing some creature’s nest?” I ask.

Seth shakes his head. “Not much fauna in these parts, aside from rodents and birds.”

“What if it caves in?”

“It looks solid enough, and better that than sleeping in the rain and catching a rockfall in the face.” Seth ducks beneath the slab with his hands braced above his head.

I follow. The narrow, Fae-made passage opens into a wide, hollowed-out cavern, its ceiling a dome of stones coated in phosphorescent lichen. Water plinks steadily from above in a gentle plop, plop, plop , sending ripples across the surface of shallow, rainwater pools.

The floor is wildly uneven, but dry enough in places to sit comfortably, with a few deeper nooks and plateaus. The ceiling is just tall enough for us to stand at its center if we’re careful, though Seth has to hunch slightly.

His hands lift to the ceiling to guard his head. “It’s not much. But it’s shelter.”

“I bet you take all your girls here,” I tease.

“Never go hiking in Storm’s End without someone to keep you warm.” He shrugs off his wet shirt. “A nasty piece of rock hit my side. Can you take a look?”

He tugs his white undershirt out of his breeches, revealing his belly button and the top of the V-shaped groove that disappears below his pants, angling himself so I can see better.

I school my gaze away from his chiseled abs to check on his supposed wound, wondering if this is all theatrics, but my breath stutters.

A giant bruise has blossomed across the small of his back, spreading over his right hip, with a dark core marking where the projectile struck the hardest. Blood crusts along a series of shallow abrasions, clear liquid and rain coalescing on top.

I don’t understand how he kept moving—how he got us down the cliff and out of danger—with that kind of injury.

Percy grimaces at the mess. “That’s a nasty bruise. Here.” He zooms forward, pressing his tiny palms to Seth’s skin.

I blink a few times, my lips parted in disbelief.

Percy only ever heals me .

Seth’s blood leaves a red sheen on my Faeling’s hands, but the bruise slowly fades, shrinking to nothing.

“Wow. Thank you, Perce.” Seth flashes him an infuriatingly charming grin. “You’re the man.”

A deep blush warms Percy’s cheeks. “You saved us, I’m just doing what I can…”

“It’s flawless.” Seth pulls out a rag from his bag and sinks it into the clearest pool in an attempt to clean the leftover blood from his back.

After a few inefficient tries, I snatch the rag from his hand. “Let me do it.”

I don’t even know why I’m angry. Maybe I just want to get it over with, get Seth clean and decent again, so I can stop the wildfire simmering under my ribs. So I can stop feeling like this stranger—because that’s what Seth is—has somehow seduced my Faeling.

I don’t so much wash him as scrape the new flesh raw . “There. All clean.” I toss the rag back into the nearest pool.

Seth rinses the blood from the fabric and squeezes the excess water out. He proceeds to do the same with his clothes, stripping to his underwear in front of me. “How about we use your light power and my weather-man influence to get a little sunshine in here and dry us off?”

“I can’t summon sunlight right now,” I grumble.

“Why not?”

A bitter tang floods my mouth. The whole point of us rappelling down the cliffs was because I couldn’t fly down to Deiltine, and I couldn’t even manage that without a fuss.

“I just can’t, okay?” I snap

He meets my gaze head-on. “Funny. Looked like you had enough juice to summon a whole star system the other day.”

“Well, I don’t have any juice . No juice. Zero juice. And you better get used to that.”

He blinks a few times before saying, “I’ll light a fire, then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’ll suck the oxygen out and replace it with smoke.”

He raises a hand in a calming motion. “My wind can tame a little smoke, don’t worry. I’ll make it work.”

The odd word choice bugs me.

“Is that what you’re doing? You’re trying to tame me? I’m not a wild horse, Seth.”

“That’s right, you’re not.” He lowers his voice and mutters to himself, “Wild horses are easy.”