The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,26
sip. Agreed?”
My face falls. Not what I was hoping for.
Attempting to cover my disappointment, I nod and take the drink from him. The tea tastes like lavender and honey, and the warmth feels good going down to my stomach.
“I reign over the Dream Realm, although now I help rule the Night Realm as well. My cousin and I merged our kingdoms about a year and a half ago.” Damon gestures behind him at the empty space, indicating the ax-wielding guy he’d been talking to a few minutes before. “And this is my castle. We’re in the throne room right now. I can give you a tour of the whole place later once you’re feeling up to it.”
I take another drink as I look straight ahead past Damon. Yep, there’s a throne on an elevated platform at the other end of the room. Actually, there are four of them, all lined up in a row. Stained-glass windows extend up the wall behind the chairs, with designs of stars and moons.
“Am I sick?”
Guiding the cup to my lips, Damon shakes his head. “You were in an accident.”
“Are we married?” I swallow the next gulp hard, and it goes down audibly.
“Not yet.”
My heart does a weird flip.
Yet. He said yet. Like it’s going to happen eventually.
Roaming his face, I fully appreciate the stubble along his jaw and the fullness of his lips. I wonder if I’ve ever kissed those lips. I kind of hope I haven’t, because it’d be a damn shame to experience something so wonderful and forget it.
“So we know each other pretty well, then?” I surmise.
“Not really.”
“Is this an arranged marriage?”
“Not exactly.”
“How did we meet?”
He smirks. “Fate.”
Sip. “Do I live here?”
“You do now.”
Sip, sip. “And where did I live before?”
“The human realm.”
“That’s what Quinn said. But where, exactly?”
“Vermont.”
“Do I have a family?”
Pause. “Everyone has a family at some point.”
“Well, where are they? Still in Vermont?”
“I’m your family now.”
I make an exasperated noise. This frustrating man. He’s saying just enough without telling me much at all.
“Are all fae like you?”
Tilting his head, he gives me a confident grin. “Devastatingly handsome?”
“Infuriating.”
I’m getting tired of this game. And the tea. I’ve held up my end of the bargain, drinking every time he responds.
“That’s enough for now.” I lower the cup to my lap, studying the expensive-looking ceramic. I run my thumb over the floral designs along the rim.
“Enough questions?” Damon quirks an eyebrow.
“No. I still have things I want to ask. I’m just not thirsty anymore.”
“Then we’re going to have to work out a different deal.”
I resist the urge to hurl the fine China across the room. “Why?”
“Because I want you well.”
“I am,” I insist. Wavering, I add, “Well, except for the whole amnesia thing.”
“You should have food. You’ll eat instead.” He leans away, his eyes fixated on my forehead.
He has the most amazing irises. From farther away, they appear bright green, but there’s so much more to them than that. There are flecks of turquoise and gray on the outside and yellow on the inside.
I don’t even know what color mine are. I open my mouth to ask, but then I shut it.
Because something’s off.
Now that I think about it, Damon and I haven’t made direct eye contact. He’s looking at me, but his gaze is unfocused. I move my head, trying to see if he’ll follow me. He does, but still, it’s like he’s not seeing me.
“This might be rude,” I start, “but why won’t you look me in the eye?”
“Because I can’t,” he responds, matter-of-fact. “I was born blind.”
“Oh.” Now I feel like an asshole. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Blame the witches.”
“The witches?” This conversation is taking a strange turn.
Damon nods. “Over two thousand years ago, a powerful coven cursed all the firstborn children of the royal families. The only way for me to see again is to find my fated mate. And that, my little carrot, is you.” He pokes my chin. “Only you can cure me.”
I gape at him. Witches and curses? “You can’t be serious.”
He sighs. “This is why it’s difficult to give you detailed answers. The facts are too complicated. Even if you had your memory, this world would be overwhelming for you.”
A challenge. If he thinks I’m some delicate flower, I’ll prove him wrong.
“How am I supposed to cure you?” I scoot back a little, preparing to do whatever it takes. “Let’s do it right now.”