Page 32 of A Court of Ravens
Her brow arches, and her mouth drops open in mock horror. “Shut up. You bloody little liar.”
Heat rushes to my face as the memory floods back. “No, really. I did. He’s different, Cyn. I didn’t know what I was missing until him.
Her lips quirk into a sly grin. “Well then, don’t hold back the details. What’s he like?”
She leans in, all ears, hungry for gossip. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope. Too much truth, and I’ll scare her off, or worse, have her questioning my sanity. Too little, and she’ll know I’m holding back. How do I explain that when Niall and I had sex, the entire room practically imploded in a storm of shadows?
I pick out parts of my narrative that I can share carefully. “Niall…he opened my eyes. To so many things.”
Her eyes narrow, teasing. “Like?”
I hesitate, my mind spinning with images of the cottage bedroom we destroyed. The sex was groundbreaking in every sense of the word. But the shadows, the destruction…what does it mean? Are we dangerous together? Am I?
I force a smirk, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “He’s demanding. Filthy. And fuck, the way he talks to me…” My face burns—not with embarrassment, but with the memory of every filthy promise he made andkept. My voice drops, husky, betraying me. “…it wrecks me. And hereallyknows what he’s doing.”
Cyn raises a perfectly sculpted brow. “Sounds like a keeper.”
I laugh. “I don’t know what it means yet.”
Her grin turns knowing. “It can be anything you want it to be. Don’t label it. Enjoy it while you can.” She pauses, her gaze softening. “But remember one thing—what you think you want isn’t always what you really need.”
I nod, not ready to unpack the emotions threatening to crush me. I’m caught between wanting him and the ice-cold fear clutching my heart. The man I’m falling for might be the key to unlocking a version of myself I never even knew existed. I’m equal parts excited and terrified.
Cyn seems to sense the shift in my mood and changes gears, bless her. “So, what do you plan to do about it?”
My cheeks flush at the memory of his head between my legs, his tongue lapping at my sex. I bite my lip. “I don’t know yet, but he’s very skilled with his tongue.”
Cyn’s snort is anything but ladylike. “Come on, I wantallthe details. Surely he’s good at more thanthat. What’s he like?”
“Well, we walked to his cottage and talked about his family…”
Cyn groans. “I knew you’d chicken out. If you can’t give me any real details, I’m calling it now. You didn’t do it. Chicken.” She makes a ridiculous squawking sound, flapping her arms for emphasis, and I burst into laughter.
“You’reterrible,” I say, though I’m grinning. “Go ahead and bait me all you want, but it was…gods there aren’t words. We talked about his family—he has two sisters—and when we didn’t talk, it wasn’t uncomfortable. And the sex was…” I pause, the words catching in my throat. It was amazing. But it was also mind-bending and downright terrifying. If we keep breaking shit every time, how do we even—? I definitely can’t tell herthat, so I leave it at, “It was more than I expected.”
“More?You mean he’s well-hung.” Her grin is all mischief.
“Cyn!” I yelp, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges it, cackling, and the tension in my chest loosens a little.
“It’s good to see you finally moving on. It’s about bloody time you got back out there. I’m happy for you. Really, I am,” Cyn says, her voice quieter than usual, like she means it for once without the sarcasm.
Her encouragement lands softly, but there’s a tremor in my voice when I admit, “I feel alive with him. Like, really alive. But also like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.”
Cyn doesn’t miss a beat. “So, are you going to see him again?”
I can’t help but smile, and it feels too wide, but I don’t care. “I’m meeting him tonight for dinner.”
“Good. Dinner is a step in the right direction. Might mean he’s looking for more.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. “Maybe.”
Cyn’s tone shifts, her teasing dropping away. “What doyouwant? Forget what’s right or safe or whatever. What doyouactually want from this?”
What do I want? It sounds insane, but from the moment I met Niall, I’ve felt something, like I know him on a soul-deep level. I don’t believe in soulmates or fate or any of that crap, but the bond is impossible to ignore.
“I don’t know.”
Cyn scoffs. “Oh, Flick, come on. You’re an absolutely shit liar. I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like this—not since the day I met you and that absolute muppet lobbed an iced coffee at you.” She arches a brow, all smug amusement. “You like him. Just admit it.”
