around to look at her, because surely I've misheard. "Violet! We aren't just going to rip them back off."
Lincoln nervously laughs, pulling one hand away from me to scrub at the back of his scalp. "With the Fae from The Lost Court and the Fae in Calhutta we might actually stand a chance at taking over the mansion, getting rid of Cordelia for good."
"Exactly."
"Fine," Lincoln agrees with a soft smile.
"Great, so you two can run back off to The Lost Court and hope that you're able to return while I swing by Calhutta on my way to the mansion and rally a couple commoners. Surely they'll be able to bring their pitchforks and the hoes from their gardens to assist us in the fight." Violet all but rolls her eyes, but there is sincerity in her voice. "Tomorrow?"
"First thing." I nod.
The princess flattens her palms against her stomach, pushing them down over the fabric and smoothing out her already flawless dress. Her head slowly bobs up and down in agreement. Eventually, her eyes snap back up to us as if she's remembered herself.
"You two stay here. I don't want anyone being able to find you. I'll call for dinner and bring it up then, I'll go stay in Rowan's room." She wrings her hands. "Just in case... just in case he comes home."
"We all hope he comes home, V," Lincoln says.
Violet doesn't say another word. I'm not sure she could if she wanted to. While I typically would say that the princess loves most things cruel and finds punishment to be most entertaining, at least when it comes to her siblings, I can't even begin to guess at how much she truly cares for them. With her head held high, she flicks the long strands of black hair that hang down to her waist over her shoulder. The color of her dark hair shines almost blue in the light. Then she makes for the door, leaving Lincoln and I alone.
"Sit, you should rest." Lincoln points to one of the many brightly colored accent chairs.
"You sit," I point to the one couch we could both share. "I don't have time to rest, I have work to do." Defiantly, I lift my chin. If we were going to go through with this little plan we'd just made, then I'd have to work through the night. Or at least most of it if I could do it somewhat quickly. How long would it take to regenerate his entire wingspan? He sighs, knowing exactly how stubborn I can be and sits down.
"I can sleep when I'm dead," I add with a frown.
"If that's a human saying, I must say, I'm not very fond of it." And he returns my weary expression. His lack of knowledge of human mannerisms can sometimes be entertaining, enough so that it brings a smile to my face even now.
"Just take your shirt off."
"Yes ma'am." Grabbing the hem of the shirt, he pulls the maroon material up and over his head, keeping eye contact with me the entire time. My eyes dip down to the ripple of muscles on his abdomen. No matter how satisfying his abs may be visually, my gaze drops even lower.
And lower.
My movements make little to no sound as I stroll the few feet between us. I stare down at him, wanting to touch, waiting for him to agree. He dips his chin slightly. Holding my breath to keep it from becoming a pant as my body fills with want, I lower myself against his warmth, straddling him with his strong thighs pressed nicely between mine.
My fingers skim over his hard chest. He's hot and firm under my touch. I trace my fingers off his skin delicately, drawing swirling patterns up over his pecs, his shoulders, and down his arms. Lincoln stays still, watching.
Wanting.
The exploration of my hand slows, wanting to give him every opportunity to tell me to stop. I let my nails scratch along the waistband of his pants.
"What are you doing?" he breathes. "I'd assume you'd wanted to try and heal me. Do you not?"
"I do want to heal you. I fully intend to. Tonight, even. But was it not you who told me that my magic would work better if I wasn't sexually wound?"
Zikos attention narrows on my lips. He leans closer, letting me breath in his comforting scent. If I move less than an inch, our mouths will brush. The ache within my chest presses even more with that thought. With