He’d pushed her to the ground and thrown himself over her. He was caging her in, protecting her. His head was ducked, and the look on his face was one that told her that he, too, didn’t precisely enjoy being pelted with apples.
When it seemed that the last one had fallen, they were lying there in a puddle of ejected fruit. Some had split from the impactwith the marble, but some seemed shockingly intact. Probably the ones that had hit them.
It was clear that Serrik was, to put it mildly, ratherput outby the whole experience.
God, he was so beautiful. She had the urge, very suddenly, to lift her head and kiss him. To just grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him down on top of her.
The realization hit her like, well, a basket of apples.
She wanted him.
But he was a monster. A monster bent on the genocide of his own people and total war. And he had trapped her here with him.
He wasdangerous.He was her enemy.
And shewantedhim.
His gaze was boring through her again, pinning her to the spot. The silence stretched between them. Did he feel the same way? Didhewanther?She was just a stupid little human to him. And he had all the emotive abilities of a brick.
No. He didn’t want her. She was making things up in her head.
Picking up one of the apples near her head, Ava held it up between them. “I grew trees?”
Shutting his eyes, he lowered his head, and let out a beleaguered, quiet laugh.
“You did not grow trees. Somewhere in this mess is the original apple. Youtoretrees through space from your world.” He retreated, nudging several apples out of the way to sit beside her. “I suppose I should make pies. Or cider, with all of these.”
Sitting up, she cringed. Her legs ached. “Are you all right? I feel like I’m going to bruise.”
“While that was hardly pleasant, I will be fine. I—” His words were cut off as a stray apple fell from the tree and smacked intohis shoulder. With a frustrated growl, he stood and offered her a hand up. “I wish to no longer sit beneath these trees.”
Taking his hand, she laughed as he pulled her to her feet. “I can’t say I disagree. I—wait. I didn’t change the apple?” She frowned. “So I failed?”
“No. This has been an enlightening experience. For me, at least, if not for you.” He cast a thoughtful glance at the trees for a moment, before leading her from the room. “Your gifts are…ill-suited for small tasks, it seems.”
Ava could almost watch the gears spin in his head. He was plotting. No, he wasscheming.She’d never met anybody who actuallyschemed,but Serrik definitelyschemed.“You’re saying I’m a bazooka and you had me trying to swat a fly.”
“I do not know what a bazooka is, Ava.”
The flat, unamused tone in his voice made her laugh. “Sorry. A big weapon that shoots rockets.”
He shot her a look.
“Right.” She laughed again. “Rockets are…explosive devices? They gopppssh”—she mimed a rocket going through the air with her hand—“boom.”She mimed an explosion.
God, she was such an idiot.
“I believe you have earned yourself a drink.” Serrik ignored her description and headed toward what looked like a bar buried within his collection of furniture. “I, myself, am currently in need of several.”
That was a loaded statement if she’d ever heard one. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“A great many things, I’m certain. You will have to strive to be more specific.”
Rubbing her face with her hand, she followed him. “Are all fae as infuriating as you?”
Serrik smiled at her, a sardonic twist to his lips. “Far more so, I assure you.” He poured her a drink straight out of a bottle.It was amber. She assumed it was a whiskey of some kind, which was fine by her. When he handed it to her, she sniffed it.
No, it was scotch. Which was also fine, even if wasn’t her favorite. “All right, then let me bemore specific.Whatspecificallyabout my ‘bazooka problem’ is leading you to drink?”
