A bone-deep sorrow bloomed under my skin, stealing my breath.
Cormac pressed his cheek against my hair, a sob catching in his throat as he held back tears. “I know.” He whispered.
Cormac and I swam to the shore, crawling from the sea and flopping down onto the sand. We had searched the water, but there were no fish to be found. No coral, or water-fae either. Not another soul for miles, fae or otherwise.
We rolled onto our backs and watched the fluffy clouds travel across the sky. The heat brushed against my skin, but did not burn. The breeze from the crystalline water was a pleasant caress and nothing more.
I was used to the icy shores of the Night Court, born and raised in frigid waters. I’d never thought of another option, and though the Tuatha Dé Danann was growing more comfortable by the minute, I had to admit I missed my home.
The Night Court.
The Twilight Lake.
I sat up, face pinched as I struggled to recall what else I missed. I searched my mind like a set of prying fingers, pulling open every crease and fold, but did not find the answer I was looking for.
I knew I had forgotten something, but my memories were vague. They were there one minute and gone the next.
“Paradise, huh, Princess?” Cormac chuckled to himself; the sound edged with a hint of bitterness. “Without a tail, with which to swim. Without wine, and loose court ladies. Perhaps this is more your paradise than mine.”
I scoffed a laugh, propping myself up on my elbow as I turned to face him. “Don’t you remember, back in Tarsainn?”
Cormac arched a brow but did not answer.
My lip twitched with a condescending smirk. “I’ve seen into your dreams, Cormac Illfinn. You’d sooner dance a jig than you would spend time in the harem.”
Cormac tilted his chin, slanting me a look. “Got me all figured out then?”
I shrugged, flopping back on the sand, as I knitted my fingers together and rested them on my stomach—looking back at the sky to avoid his emerald stare. “Sometimes I do. Other times I wonder how much is the mask you wear, and how much is the real you?”
“The mask of the King.” He said thoughtfully.
“The mask of the pompous, arrogant, fecking eejit with a head bigger than Charybis’s belly.” I corrected, though there was no heat in my words.
“What is your paradise, Princess?” Cormac pushed himself up on his oversized arms, unmarked by the scars of the Trench. A slate wiped clean. “Is it lying on a beach, just like this, with a handsome King? Rolling about in the sand?”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t deny that my stomach fluttered. “Paradise is a bit boring, don’t you think?”
“We could make our own fun?” Cormac flashed a crooked smile, his face hovering over mine, blocking the blue sky.
“Doing what? Racing sea turtles, and eating coconuts?” I asked wryly.
Cormac gave me a long look. “Maeve…”
My cheeks heated, and I looked away.
Cormac gripped my cheeks, forcing my face back to his. He leaned over me, close enough to share a breath. “Perhaps paradise is what you make of it? Hm?”
My breathing stuttered. Every inch of my body tingled, though I didn’t know if it was from fear or arousal.
Cormac Illfinn was much bigger than I was. His broad shoulders were easily twice the width of my body. The taut muscles of his arms and the lines on his stomach as his tunic rode up. My eyes flitted to the curve of his cock, hidden in his leather trousers. As Cormac’s lips pulled into a smug, unsufferable smirk, I knew he had caught me looking.
He did not loosen his grip on my face, his fingers pressing deep enough that I could feel my own teeth through the skin of my cheeks. Cormac leaned in, ignoring my lips entirely as he placed a delicate kiss on the seam of my jaw, and he finally let go of my face.
I shivered as his body pressed closer to mine. His body heat seeped through the fabric of his tunic, soaking into my body like a warm bath.
I reached up, placing my hands on his shoulders. My fingers twitched when I touched his skin, unsure of the line we both straddled—but had never crossed.
“What do you say, Princess?” His voice tickled the shell of my ear.
