Cold stone bit through the thin layers of my gown as I pressed against the wall. While running away was tempting, I couldn't outrun him for long, and I didn't need the heightened senses of a Fae to know Calix would give chase.

"Who," he growled, striking the wall above my head and lowering his face to mine, "did this to you?"

"I'm sor—wait, wh—what?"

I'd been mentally preparing excuses for wandering the halls. I glanced down and squeezed my eyes together in long blinks in an attempt to focus. I lost my balance and pitched forward, right into Calix's arms. He swore and scooped me up. Damn fairy wine. For making me drunk and staining my gown.

Wait. The stain. I touched the still damp spot. Calix's grip on me was painful as he marched us toward his room. The motion nauseated me, and I groaned, the sound eliciting another string of curses--or at least I thought they were curses. The words themselves were foreign, but the tone implied nothing good.

"Put me down. I don't feel so good." I dug an elbow into his chest.

Calix was gentle as he placed me on the bed. His hands hovered just above the wine stain. They trembled, and when I looked into his face, I found his pupils had swallowed the irises completely.

"It's fine. I did it."

His head snapped up, and the concern morphed to outrage. "Why the fuck would you do this?"

I bit my lip. Good god, my head was pounding. "Because I'm clumsy? And drunk."

Hissing through his teeth, Calix grabbed the front of my gown and ripped it down the middle. The tattered edges fell over my breasts, offering some modesty, but not much, and it didn't really matter whether he could see anything because he could certainly feel everything as his hands moved freely under the material.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked. It occurred to me then that I should push his hands away, but the callused pads of his fingers against my skin sent delicious frissons through me.

"You're not injured?"

"Injured?" I repeated like an idiot, only now it wasn't the wine clouding my mind but the fingertip circling my nipple. "I spilled wine."

"You spilled wine." Now Calix was the one repeating things, but he didn't sound stupid when he did it. He sounded dangerous. "I see."

And because part of me liked danger and the part that didn't was intoxicated, I nodded and grinned. "See. No big deal."

His fingers splayed across my sternum and his palm flattened so that every point of his hand touched my skin. Then he pushed. I went down without resistance, my heart pounding as he loomed over me, one of his knees moving between my thighs.

"Do I have this right? You're intoxicated and unchaperoned."

Flashing warning sign. Danger. Danger. Danger. But why did danger have to feel so good?

Overly aware of every place he touched me, I had trouble remembering why those two things would make him angry. "Yes, that's right."

"Mmmhmm." His leg slid up a fraction. My legs widened in invitation, and it didn't go unnoticed. "Did my brother not satisfy you?"

How did this male ignite every nerve ending in my body with desire and anger? Every single time I found myself ensnared by his dark, brooding good looks, his mouth opened and it was ruined.

"Get off me."

I shoved him. My efforts resulted in nothing more than a grunt of amusement from the Fae prince, followed by my hands being pinned to the bed above my head.

"Was it all for show, then? Your pretty little moans. The gasps."

"You pervert. Were you listening at the door?"

"I didn't have to stand at the door. Even Fae in the castle could hear you, and when I went back in the room after you were gone, your scent drenched the room."

"That should answer your question, then." It should embarrass me to know he'd heard and smelled those things. Instead, it was oddly satisfying imagining him being forced to know what was happening. "I can fake sounds, but I cannot fake the scent of arousal."

"So, why are you at my door?" He let go of my hands and slid his down my arms. Goosebumps broke out across my skin. "Alone."

"Lorcan was called away during dinner, and Niamh was supposed to come get me. She never showed up. I thought I could get back to my room—"

"And just what would you have done if someone had attacked you?" His eyes flicked down to my ruined gown, and he shuddered.

"Am I not safe in the palace?"

Calix grabbed my throat, his thumb resting threateningly on my airway as he bent down to whisper in my ear. "Monsters are everywhere and often disguised as beautiful creatures. You're not safe anywhere in Faerie. The sooner you understand that, the easier things will be, because I'm beginning to think it would just be easier to kill you myself. Do you understand?"

"Stop being—" Pressure increased on my throat. Rage blinded me, but some sane, sober piece of me whispered he was serious. Weak human that I was, I stood no chance against him. "Yes. I understand."

"Good." He let me go and stood. I pulled my gown closed and snapped my legs together. "Get up."

I obeyed, eying him angrily. "I'd like to go to my room."

"Fine." He threw clothes into a bag and grabbed a pillow from his bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Coming with you. Clearly, I can't trust anyone else."

"That's unnecessary," I spluttered. Was I to have no peace at all? How could I get to know Lorcan if Calix was with us every time? "I don't want you to stay in my room."

"Oh, little moon. You don't have a choice."