Page 14

He grunted. Faint color touched his cheekbones as he pulled a tankard toward him and took a long pull.

Chuckling, I followed suit. The ale was delicious—cool and sweeter than any I’d tasted before—and I quickly drained it. Moments later, the redheaded barmaid appeared with another round.

“Thirsty tonight, are we?” she asked, setting a plate of cakes next to the tankards. She offered Dain a conspiratorial smile. “These are on the house, too,” she murmured as she turned away.

I opened my mouth?—

“Not a word,” Dain growled, lanternlight reflected in his pupils.

Bel laughed. As the three of us ate and drank, the musicians launched into a song with bawdy lyrics. Most of the patrons clapped along. A few put their fingers to their lips and whistled. Others shoved chairs and tables out of the way and began to dance.

The opportunity was too tempting to pass up.

Excusing myself, I rose and slinked into the crowd, my gaze focused and my fingers light.

The musicians continued playing, their lyrics growing filthier.

The patrons sang along, clapping and stomping their feet.

The tune was one played in taverns throughout Saldu, and I found myself joining the song.

Dancers spun around me. The ale sang in my veins, heating my blood and lifting my voice. A woman in a red velvet gown drifted closer to me, her eyes bright with merriment.

“Your voice is lovely!” she exclaimed, clapping with the beat of the music. After a second, she beckoned to others around us. “Listen to him!”

Several patrons turned, and then I was surrounded by merchants and farmers urging me to sing.

With the ale making my head buzz pleasantly, I obliged them, raising my voice over the fiddles and the drum.

The next set of lyrics were particularly indecent, and the crowd roared with laughter as I belted them out.

Across the tavern, Dain tapped his toe with the beat, a soft smile on his face. Even Bel seemed entertained, her golden eyes fixed on me under her hood.

“Another verse!” someone shouted. The musicians played louder. Ale flowed faster. The tavern thumped with the beat of the drums. I grabbed the hand of a barmaid, spinning her in a circle before passing her to a burly farmer who caught her with a grin.

The music swelled, and I moved from partner to partner until I ended up beside Dain and Bel. She squeaked as I tugged her to her feet.

“I don’t dance!” she protested, one hand on the edge of her hood.

“The whole tavern is drunk,” I said, twirling her away from the table. “I promise you’re the best dancer here.”

She clung to my shoulders, her skirts swinging.

And she was a liar, Bel of the Summer Court, because she matched my steps with ease, her gaze locked with mine.

The hint of a sparkle glimmered in her golden irises, which were brighter than any of the coins I’d stolen.

The scent of jasmine teased my nose. Bel’s skirts brushed my legs.

Her palm was warm on my shoulder, her heat sinking through my clothes to singe my skin.

But it was a sweet burn. The floor vibrated. So did the walls. I vibrated, too, my body like a tuning fork as I spun Bel over the boards. The noisy tavern faded, leaving only pink lips and a pair of golden eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes.

“You’re staring,” Bel said, boldly holding my gaze.

“Hard not to,” I said, holding hers right back. I slid my hand to her trim waist, and it was just as hot as the rest of her.

The musicians finished the song and began another, the rhythm slower this time. Bel tightened her grip on my shoulder as I guided her toward our table. Her hood slipped an inch, revealing the tip of her pointed ear. I quickly tugged it back into place, my fingers brushing her silky hair.

“Thank you,” she murmured as we arrived beside a smiling Dain.

Pitching my voice low I pulled out her chair. “I can’t have you exposed in a tavern full of humans. Although, I suspect half are too drunk to notice.”

“And the other half?” she asked, sitting.

“Too busy watching me dance.”

She laughed—a real one that wrinkled her nose and made her eyes shine brighter than the lanterns.

Dain sat back in his chair, his thick arms folded over his chest as he gave me a long-suffering look. “It’s a pity you’re so shy.”

Bel’s laughter warmed me as much as the ale. The redheaded barmaid returned, delivering more tankards and another plate of cakes.

“These are delicious,” Bel declared, polishing off a second. “I didn’t expect human food to taste this good.”

I clinked my tankard against hers. “To unexpected discoveries.”

Once again, our eyes held.

“Of all kinds,” I added softly.

She swallowed. Then she lifted her tankard. “To discoveries,” she echoed just as softly before taking a drink.

We drank our third round of ale—or maybe our fourth. The air buzzed with song and laughter. The lanterns burned lower, and the buzz in my veins became a buzz in my head. I tugged at my collar.

Across the tavern, the woman in the velvet dress laughed as a man swung her onto the bar. He pushed her skirts up and spread her legs. Barmaids moved among the patrons, but something was different…

Something was wrong.

Their dresses were missing, their white chemises and frilly drawers gleaming in the tavern’s rosy light.

Dain swiped at his brow, his blue eyes clouded with confusion. “I feel…odd.”

I shook my head, struggling to clear it, but the buzzing between my ears grew louder.

Around the tavern, patrons began loosening their clothing.

High-pitched, feminine laughter cut through the noise.

When I looked at the bar, the woman in the velvet dress tipped her head back, her weight braced on her palms as her companion buried his face between her legs.

Laughter turned to moans. At a nearby table, a man pulled a riding crop from a saddlebag slung over the back of his chair. The man seated across from him rose and began unbuckling his belt.

Dain stirred. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He wiped more sweat from his forehead.

“What’s happening?” Bel asked, sliding a finger into the high collar of her gown. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils tiny specks in a sea of bright gold.

Too bright.

Warmth spread through my limbs and pooled between my legs. My cock twitched—then tightened. Desire struck like a thunderclap, and I sucked in a breath.

The man with the crop circled his companion, who’d shoved his trousers to his knees and now bent over the table. At another table, a barmaid climbed into a man’s lap, yanked his head back, and kissed him passionately.

“Gods,” Dain rasped, shifting in his chair. His eyes were glassy, and the pulse in his neck fluttered like a trapped bird under his skin.

Realization crept over me with horrifying clarity. The bawdy music. The too-sweet ale. The delicious cakes. We weren’t in an ordinary inn. The Wayward Blossom was a pleasure house. Our food and drink had been laced with aphrodisiacs. The practice was outlawed in Saldu.

But we weren’t in Saldu. We were on its outskirts, where the law didn’t quite reach and brothel-keepers “enhanced” their refreshments to loosen their customers’ inhibitions. The barmaids weren’t barmaids. They were ladies of the night.

The music changed, the tempo slower, the drumbeat low and insistent. Moans lifted around us as patrons shed their clothes.

Bel squirmed on her chair, her cheeks a brilliant pink. “Oh gods,” she gasped, gripping the table with white fingers. “I’m going to… I need to…” She jerked a panicked gaze to mine. “I’m aching .”

I jumped to my feet, pulling her up with me. “Come on,” I said, tugging her around the table and gripping Dain’s arm. “Come with me, both of you.” Dain’s chair rocked backward as he let me drag him from the table.

“What’s going on?” Bel asked, the suggestion of a moan in her voice.

“Our drinks were spiked with a love potion,” I said under my breath, weaving among the tables.

Her gasp rose above the slap of a riding crop striking flesh. “Could it hurt us?”

“No,” I said grimly, steering her and Dain toward a counter where a smirking man watched the scene on the tavern floor with obvious satisfaction.

The “innkeeper.” I slammed some of my stolen coins onto the counter. “Give us your best room.”

He gave me a sour look as he picked up a coin and bit it. “Privacy costs extra.”

My body burned with unwanted desire, and it was a struggle not to reach over the counter and grip his neck. “Fine,” I bit out, flinging more coins onto the wood. “Just give me a room.”

He flicked his eyes to Bel, and my temper snapped. Before I realized what I was doing, my fingers were around his throat.

“Don’t fucking look at her,” I snarled. “Just give me the key.”

His eyes bulged. I loosened my grip, and he scrabbled behind the counter, producing a key. “H-Here,” he gasped, letting it clatter against the wood. “Third floor, end of the hall, last door on the right. You won’t b-be disturbed.”

I hurried Bel up the stairs with Dain on our heels. Bel clutched my arm, her fingers digging into my skin. Behind us, Dain’s breathing was labored. When I glanced at him over my shoulder, he’d clenched his jaw so tightly I worried he might crack a molar.

Moans drifted from behind doors as we stumbled onto the third floor and moved down the hall. By the time we reached our room, Bel ground my bones together with her grip.

I fumbled the key, almost dropping it twice before I managed to unlock the door. The three of us fell inside, and I slammed the door and leaned against it, arousal pounding through me like the king’s cavalry.

The brothel-keeper hadn’t lied. The room was large and well-appointed, with a big bed and a wide window that let moonlight slant over the polished floor.

A fire crackled in the hearth. Someone had placed an oversize copper tub in front of it.

The damn thing was big enough for a party—which was undoubtedly the point.

Saldu’s brothels catered to all sorts of nighttime proclivities, and the Wayward Blossom was obviously on board with group sessions .

The tub was already filled, steam curling from the surface.

The brothel’s employees had likely prepared all the rooms in the same manner.

Once the “festivities” started, the staff would undoubtedly be too occupied to fetch water.

Dain staggered to an upholstered chair and clutched the back. “Fuck,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

Bel yanked her hood down. She waited a second, then ripped her cloak open and flung the garment to the floor. “What do we do?” she gasped, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks.

Blood pounded in my dick, which thrust against the front of my trousers like an animal trying to escape a cage. My head spun, the haze of desire making words big and blocky on my tongue. “The potion…should wear off…by morning.”

Dain gripped the chair, and the wood creaked ominously.

“Morning?” Bel asked in a strangled tone. The noise from the tavern was a faint, thumping beat below us. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

Arousal coursed through me. I dragged a shaking hand down my face, and I tried not to look at her—or Dain. I fixed my gaze on the window and spoke through clenched teeth.

“We wait it out.”