Chapter 221: A Taste Of Me
Fiza instantly spotted the royal lovers. She watched them from afar. They were still up, watching the stars, or in a sickeningly sweet scene, Evanna watched the stars, and Arawn watched her. It was strange to see the prince seeming so vulnerable, features soft and in love.
The fae shook her head in disapproval, kicking the frosty grass as she turned from them and continued on her patrol. From her network of spies and all the intel she knew, even seeing the Florian prince in the past from a distance, Arawn had a ruthless reputation, rumours stating of his cold heart. What she saw tonight was not a ruthless prince but a young elf captivated by his love.
Between them, they had many enemies and many obstacles still to overcome. It could bring ruin to them both. But the prince might hide his affection for her in public. Not that it mattered to her; it was up to them. She was not a part of their courts. She wasn’t even a part of any fae courts, not really. She drifted through them, not taking any sides or showing loyalty to any.
She was just a fae earning her way to luxuries, dismissing the ugly rumours of being ’cursed’ because her skin was pale white with a hint of shimmering blue. That was the only difference between her and the other night fae. They had beautiful, smooth skin of dark navy, and hers was like snow.
Unlike how Ronan, Axel and even occasionally Garrett looked at her, she was disgusting and vile among her own kind. But did that affect her? No. She was a damn spymaster, slave to no one, and full of secrets that could destroy kingdoms. Nobody could look down on her now.
Except for Garrett, it seemed. Though his disdain seemed more personal, like he despised himself for finding her attractive. The funny thing was, though, it gave her great joy in bringing the elf down a peg or two.
With her thoughts turning to the dark elf, Fiza finished her fifth loop around the area. Arawn and Evanna were asleep on the hill, but the fae knew Evanna had senses like that of the fae. She would most likely wake before the elven prince if something dangerous came by. Nodding to herself, Fiza returned to the camp, her eyes roaming over the men sleeping quietly until they landed on the brute of an elf, Garrett.
Fiza’s eyes remained on him for a while as she crept through the camp. Her eyes trailed across his large, muscular form, his long braided hair pulled back, the scar that none could see in such dim lighting, but it was like the human’s daylight to her right now. She could see the elf clearly. Even in his sleep, Garrett scowled, but it didn’t form any wrinkles or lines on his smooth, unblemished face.
Slowly Fiza crawled over to his side. The giant of an elf lay on his back, one hand lose on his sword and the other resting by his side. Fiza looked at him a moment more. He was annoyingly handsome in a rugged, dark and dangerous kind of way. Though she had to admit, beneath his brutality, Garrett had strong features, a straight nose, a sharp jawline, and plump, slightly dry lips. They still urged her to kiss them, though.
Fiza’s lips quirked to one side as amusement slipped over her eyes. She lightly crawled over him until she slipped quietly under his fur blanket and straddled him, her arms on his warm, broad, and muscular chest. She pressed her body against his and brought her face to his neck, stopping when the cold point of his sword touched her throat.