The Lost Fae (The Twisted Crown #3) - A.K. Koonce Page 0,28
my neck and into my hair for only a moment before they travel back down and settle along my waist. Most of my clothes are damp from all my dancing. Maybe Lincoln's are a little damp too. Neither of us care. Not when we can just forget the world while we remain in each other's embrace.
"You're... touching me." I mumble against his skin.
"You were going to fall."
The perfect excuse. But I won't tease him anymore. I'll be happy for whatever he gives and if he can only bring himself to do even half as much as he is right now tomorrow, I'll still be happy then.
"So is the possessive nature of the claiming over now? Did you not care that a beautiful human pirate came and swept me up to dance?"
The rumble of his laughter vibrates in his chest and seems to travel through my own body. "I don't think I need to worry about you falling in love with any of these women." He lowers his mouth to my ear. "They smell absolutely terrible."
He's right. From the moment we met them up until now, they all smelled like they haven't bathed in their entire existence. Each one of them smells overwhelmingly like body odor, even though they have access to water at all times. At some point, my nose just got used to it.
I trace the seams of his shirt, humming along as if I know the song. My eyes close and I breath him in, letting our heartbeats sync. The music doesn't slow, but we move together in a rhythm all our own. I try to memorize the notes, to ingrain every part of this into my memory, forever.
My heart swells with joy. The rocking of our bodies is a comfort.
"I love you." I lift my head and whisper into his ear.
"I love you." His voice is raspy.
Together, we dance even as the group eventually dissolves and the music fades away, Lincoln still humming or singing to me. His palm runs flat up and down my back. And we only break apart when the day grows cold and our stomachs growl for something to eat.
Seven
An Icy Arrival
Cold chips away at the tropical heat. The climate here remains a mystery to me. Sharp and bitter, the winds change in a matter of seconds as the sun falls behind the horizon. If I squint with my new vision, I can still see the outline of the shore we left behind. We are still so close for it to be as chilly as it is already becoming.
I hug my leather coat a little closer to my body. My stomach is full from the large meal the pirates had offered us. The meal was salty at best, and the meat wholly unidentifiable. I didn't have any place to ask questions though, so I kept my mouth shut to chew through the entire course.
Now I lean against the railing that lines the deck above Beatrice's cabin. I watch as she presses herself against the helm and extends her long scope. The smile on her face has yet to fall, and I imagine that her cheeks must ache.
Lincoln too has shrugged into his additional layers. Opposite of me, his hands are balled into fists inside the pockets of the thick black jacket. The hood is lifted up over his head, dark brown fur tickling at his rosy cheeks. With every breath, a cloud of fog leaves his lips and travels up to the stars.
The view isn't nearly as beautiful as it had been the other night. The more we move into the colder temperatures, the more dotted with clouds the sky becomes. Even the moon hardly shines down on us this evening.
Since breaking apart from our loving embrace, Lincoln has remained quiet. His lips still tease at a smile that presses dimples into his cheeks. I don't talk either. Today has been remarkably... perfect. I'm nervous that whatever I could say can take those moments away from us. So for now... I'll remain with my mouth pressed into a tight smile of my own.
Even through my thick jacket, the cold still seeps in. My bones feel as if they could snap like icicles if I move too quickly. I know that isn't true, and it's a rather silly thought. Nevertheless, I hold myself still.
Beatrice retracts her scope with a click. She tugs her white fur coat tighter against her and swivels on her heels to look at us.