Queen of the Fae (Dragon's Gift The Dark Fae #3) - Linsey Hall Page 0,28

once been stone ruins was now a beautiful, intact temple with a dozen white columns and a soaring roof decorated with enormous carvings of goddesses.

“I do.”

As we walked up to the front, I was careful to keep my stride relaxed and relatively slow. If someone happened to see us, I wanted to look like a visitor rather than an attacker.

“It’s quiet,” Tarron said. “But not empty-feeling.”

There were no guards, so we continued on, approaching the huge white pillars that were as wide around as ancient redwoods and almost as tall.

Six wide stairs stretched across the whole front, and I strode up them, senses alert. Tarron stuck close by my side. The place had a regal air about it, the architecture fantastic and noble.

It was exactly what I’d imagine for the Vestal Virgins. I didn’t know much about them, other than the fact that they were women who’d eschewed love and marriage—and sex—for the opportunity to serve at the Roman goddess Vesta’s side, tending her flame for eternity.

Sounded like a bad deal to me. Particularly the no-sex bit. I eyed Tarron beside me. Especially that.

Hopefully they wouldn’t boot me out. I definitely wouldn’t fit among their ranks.

I stepped through the pillars and into a massive stone courtyard. A huge fountain bubbled in the middle, and flowers tumbled down the walls. Their sweet scent filled the air, and I was careful not to breathe in too deeply. No telling what was in the air here, magic or otherwise.

In the corner, about thirty yards away, a woman was making out with a man. Her white robes swept the ground, but the back was cut out to reveal a beautiful tattoo of a bird in flight. They were so into each other that neither of them seemed to notice us.

I glanced at Tarron. “Not what I was expecting.”

“No.” He shook his head, bemused.

Two figures appeared at the other end of the courtyard, their eyes brightening at the sight of us. They were both tall, beautiful women with an eternally young look—an almost eerie, ethereal beauty—that some immortals possessed. Their white dresses were short and skimpy, an almost modern take on a Roman toga type dress. I wasn’t very familiar with proper Roman clothing, but this was not it. For one, there was a lot less of it than I’d seen on the statues out front.

One of the women had golden curls piled high on her head, and the other had a long raven mane that was similar to mine when I wore it down. Both smiled widely and hurried forward.

“Visitors!” the blonde one crowed. “How delightful!”

The brunette went straight up to Tarron, her stride quick and her eyes glinting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered herself to his front. “Hello, weary traveler. Won’t you come in?”

Oh boy.

The Vestal Virgins were way different than I’d expected.

Annoyance surged in my chest at the sight of the brunette, who looked like she was going to try to climb Tarron like a tree. I wasn’t prone to jealousy, but I couldn’t help the mean little gremlin that jumped to life inside me. I wanted to snatch her back, but Tarron pulled away from her gracefully. The blonde moved more slowly toward us, and if she went for Tarron—which I was sure she would, from the heated look in her eyes—we were going to have a bit of a problem.

For me, mostly, dealing with this stupid jealousy. Because fighting over a man was so not my style, no matter what the gremlin said.

But the blonde woman didn’t go for Tarron. She strode right up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing her body against mine as she gazed into my eyes.

“Hello, beautiful,” she purred, blue eyes sparkling.

Okay.

“Points to you for catching me by surprise.” Gently, I reached for her hands behind my waist to pry them away.

She laughed gaily. “You thought I would go for your friend?”

“Clearly I was mistaken.” And I might not have turned her down once upon a time.

Unfortunately, I was hopelessly hooked on the stupid Fae king to my left, who was trying for a second time to slip out of the grasp of his captor.

“Indeed, you were.” She frowned as I pried her off of me. “You’re much more my type.”

“Thank you. You’re not bad yourself. But I’m not quite in the market for that at the moment.”

She frowned, drawing her hands back and pouting. She clearly didn’t like the concept of personal space, but was willing to