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“Of course,” I say. Though I have zero intention of calling my future murderer by any of his stupid titles. C’mon.

Still, I add, “Veyrion. That’s a strong name. It suits you. Does it have a special meaning?”

“It simply means Fourth in our Fae language, and that I am male. I was fourth born. My first-born sisters are called Erie and Twerie. My third-born brother was Therion.”

“Oh, wow, you have siblings. How lucky. I’m an only child.”

He stiffens behind me, more sharply this time.

“Did I not receive an announcement about your sister marrying the Elephim prince? And, of course, your elder brother will one day inherit the Aralyssean throne.”

I wince and course-correct. “Yes, of course I have siblings. I only meant that I’ve always felt like an only child.”

I rush to volley the ball back to him. “Maybe you can relate? Were you close to your siblings?”

“My sisters were strategically married off to rulers from two of our other Stone Fae territories before I even cracked out of my egg. And my brother died in battle,” he says in a voice completely devoid of emotion.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do not be. He died in battle. His soul has been commended to Eryx.”

Okay, but… “A glorious death doesn’t mean the ones left behind can’t still feel grief. Were you two close?”

“Very.”

His one word scrapes the air like a confession.

“He taught me everything I know about battle,” Veyrion says quietly. “And my leadership is but a poor roleplay of his. He should be here with you this eve. Not me.”

I rest my cheek against the pulse in his neck, my own heart thudding low and slow.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

There’s a long, long silence.

Then, quieter than anything I’ve heard from him yet, he says, “Thank you.”

More silence. But this time, it’s shockingly comfortable. The time glass, sitting on the throne seat, is over halfway drained—but I no longer care to move out of the bath.

Eventually, the king sets me back, using both of his taloned hands.

And that’s when I realize… he does have a tail.

One hand holds me in place while the pointed tail rubs soap over my body, and the other hand rinses it off with a square of wool towel I assume comes from the coat of the taarhorn he told me about earlier.

I liked the hug. But I like this, too. Lodged as I still am against his pulsing length, the water sluicing over my breasts while I’m cleaned and rubbed, feels like the strangest, most alluring massage.

“Sallie Rose?”

“Yes?”

“Earlier, before we entered the room, you said you had a question.” He moves the towel to the other breast. “What was it?”

“Oh. I just wondered what happened to all the statues in the hall.”

“Statues?”

My breasts are so clean, but his tail continues to rub soap over them in a way I can only describe as hypnotic. Lathering them up without bothering to rinse.

“Yes. This morning when I woke up, the hall was full of statues. But now they’re gone. Do you store them away every night?”

He stops lathering. “Are you speaking of the stone sleep ?”

“The stone sleep?”

“Yes. Each day, when the suns rise, our warrior moon protects us by casting us in stone when its rays touch us. So that our enemies cannot harm us while we rest.”

Wait— what ?

The druggy trance his cleaning put me under disappears in an instant.

“So, this morning. That statue by the window. That was you ?”

“That was me,” he confirms.

Panic creeps up my spine, but somehow I keep my voice level. “You were asleep, though, right? That means you didn’t see or hear anything, right?”

“Right,” he confirms.

I let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Except for the part where you rubbed your hands all over my body, then cupped my genitalia while pressing your mouth into mine. That part, I was awake for.”

And suddenly, I am cold again.

Funny, I’ve been screamed at by Princess Seraphyne, slapped in rooms filled with her peers. Once, she made me dress up like a bramblehog and perform a little skit where she pardoned me, to kick off the Harvest Festival in front of the entire kingdom.

But I have never felt anything like the embarrassment that crashes over me when the Stone Fae King lets me know he was awake for every single second .

More water sloshes over the sides of the tub—this time when I attempt to get up.

“I was trapped this morn,” he says. His hands fall to my hips, and that’s the end of my efforts to get away. With barely a flex of his biceps, he holds me in place. “I believe I shall pay you back by trapping you, too.”

So that’s the story of how I end up in a bath being warmed by the insane body heat of a Stone Fae King, with my eyes squeezed shut, sending up prayers to the moons above to please, please , please take me out early—before my already scheduled ritualistic murder.

Just so I can get out of this situation.

But then Veyrion says, “It was my first kiss, too.”

What?

My eyes pop open, and I repeat the question aloud. “What?”

“It was my first kiss as well,” he says again.

“Does that mean you’re a virgin, too?”

“No.” His lips almost, but not quite, curve into a smile. “It is thought auspicious to have a release of some kind before battle. Either by one’s hand or into a willing vessel. But we Stone Fae only exchange kisses during ceremonies.”

“Like weddings.”

“Like weddings,” he confirms.

His hand lifts, talons curling gently around the back of my neck. “I did not dislike this formal practice for our upcoming ceremony.”

“You didn’t?” My heart stutters.

“No, I did not. Even inside the stone case, your lips felt very… full. And soft.”

A little of my newly found sass creeps back in. “That was the opposite of my experience.”

“Then perhaps we should have another first kiss,” he suggests, eyes dropping to my lips. “I am curious how it would feel… to be able to move this time.”

A hot flush crawls up my neck that has nothing to do with his heating up the bath. “Well, when you put it that way, I feel like some kind of creeper.”

“Well, Sallie Rosie, you did creep up to me while I slept and?—”

I capture his mouth in a kiss just to shut him up.