Fae Fiefdom - M. Sinclair Page 0,45

my pathway.

I made an annoyed noise as I slammed into a solid chest that intercepted me and I snapped my head back to look up into a… well, hell. I had the worst luck. A pair of whiskey honey eyes stared down at me as I inhaled sharply, the smell of lavender wrapping around me.

His fingers tightened on my waist where he’d stabilized me and I let out a small sound as I looked over his face, any annoyance gone, and instead I was left feeling just weird.

Did I know this man?

His chiseled face was statue-like and damn, was this guy tall. I mean, I was around taller men pretty often, but this guy was easily over 6’4 possibly larger. My hands smoothed over his chest because how could I not? He was wearing a deep emerald-colored suit and I could feel how jacked he was.

I didn’t feel delicate often but with this guy, I felt like a fucking toothpick. Maybe it was because of how he was holding me and the dangerous look in his gaze. Or, and this is completely possible, it was because my head literally came up to his pectoral. I would know since I was still touching his chest, goddamnit, I really needed to stop this shit.

My eyes crawled over the tight line of his curly hair that was short and in a fade, his dark obsidian skin so rich and beautiful. I literally found everything about this man attractive, he was nothing like I’d ever seen and the gold piercing in his eyebrow was like the cherry on top. This was all before he spoke…

“Ma belle,” his husky french accent rolled over my ears as my skin broke out into shivers, “you shouldn’t be down here.”

What?

I frowned trying to shake myself, “I’m sorry, what? Do I know you?”

His thumb swept across my bottom lip as he stared at me with fascination, “Not yet, Ophelia, but we have time for that later. You need to go upstairs.”

Suddenly, I broke out of it and stepped back. I offered him a dry comment, “I’m sorry, I don’t know who the hell you are but I’m not going upstairs.” Who the fuck did he think he was?

His jaw clenched, a rumble breaking from his throat, as he grabbed my wrist tightly, “Ophelia, I’m serious, Autumn Court is no place for a Spring fae.”

Alright, now this… This was getting ridiculous.

“Please let go of me,” I demanded, yanking my hand back from the calm man. Well, no longer calm because he looked heated as hell. I could feel his hot energy surrounding me in a dangerous wind tunnel.

“Rain,” Merrick’s voice was soft as he stared at him as if he was acting weird. I wouldn’t know because I didn’t know who the fuck this guy was. Something he didn’t seem to understand.

“She needs to go upstairs,” Rain demanded as he tugged me closer again, my cheeks filled with color. Merrick stared at him and then stepped closer speaking quietly.

“Rain,” Merrick’s voice was calm and relaxed as I felt my eyes grow heavier. “You are causing a scene, please remember who has an eye on her right now. Let her go. We can talk about this later. You are acting insane.”

Rain calmed his breathing, and he shook himself, stepping away and keeping his gaze on the wall over my shoulder. I frowned, sort of waiting to see what would happen next. Then the odd bastard flashed me a polite resigned smile as that bubbling intensity slipped back underneath everything else…I sort of wanted to poke it back out.

“Bad idea,” Merrick offered. “You should actually probably walk away, Ophelia, Rain isn’t acting like himself.” Okay, flippin’ mind reader...

“Not so sure about that,” Rain muttered trying to not look at me. I sort of just stared at them oddly and then walked away from the two total weirdos. Maybe they were just a bit off, I shouldn’t judge them. Then again, he shouldn’t be bossing me around to be honest.

I mean, really, who did he think he was?

I slipped into the kitchen, a few of the workers offering me small nods as I searched the fridge for something other than the cocktails making their rounds. I was positive I could have one but being drunk around my stepmother was an experience I was looking to avoid. I saved that shit for Kansas City. I didn’t even realize the kitchen had cleared until I smelled both lime and lavender, an intoxicatingly stark energy crashing