Nicholas gave a disgruntled huff and slid beneath the rock face. William followed, noting the disappearance of their tracks leading into the cove. Nicholas waved his fingers. Snow piled in front of them, leaving a slim opening for light to trickle in. The cove was barely big enough for them to lay atop one another. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. A heat that could melt a glacier into a lake, but the fae didn’t take this opportunity to be a pain, and that spoke far more than the racing heart William felt beneath him.

Nicholas’ eyes rolled, incapable of focusing. He shuddered, eyes shutting, then opening, then shutting again. Sweat trickled from his brow. A hand clawed at the surface of the cove, nails shredding the rocks like they were no more flimsy than paper. His breaths came out sporadically, too much then too little. He was terrified and it had nothing to do with the monstrous shadow passing by outside. Gripping Nicholas’ hand, William tore it from the rockface, lest the monster hear the shrieking of his nails. Laying fully against the fae, he pressed two fingers to Nicholas’ erratic pulse in his neck. Nicholas snarled, though as the spell left William’s lips, he settled. His eyes fell half mast and breathing evened out.

The earth shook and a thump called from outside. William cast a glance through the opening. He glimpsed the monster shuffling through the snow. A snout rummaged around, too, searching for their scent.

Nicholas set a hand against William’s waist. He ignored the touch of cool fingers rubbing the skin beneath his tattered clothes. For once, the fae wasn’t toying with him. This was to comfort himself. He clung to William, desperate and terrified. His eyes couldn’t hide that truth, still wide, though now focused entirely on William. As if focusing on anything else would make him lose himself entirely.

Heavy steps came closer. William could not risk his incantation any longer. He stopped and Nicholas’ pulse jumped. They held their breaths. Nicholas’ hold tightened. Though his nails cut William’s skin, he said nothing. He pressed forward. Their foreheads touched. Nicholas’ trembling hand interlocked their fingers, squeezing like his life depended on it.

The monster’s hot breath fanned through the cove, then the creature veered away.

William swiftly set his fingers against Nicholas’ neck. His breathing slowed again, but he kept them close, practically entangling their legs and brushing his cheek against William’s. It was almost sweet, almost breathtaking. As were his eyes, that stifling roseate light invading every crevice of William’s mind to illuminate the darkest and most frightful thoughts.

The monster flew off. The trees creaked under the power of its wings. Neither dared to move for a long moment, then Nicholas pushed William towards the exit. The snow tumbled away. Nicholas crawled out of the cove, panting and running the freezing snow over his face. He shoved some into his mouth as if it’d wake him from a stupor and ran it through his hair.

“The great Nicholas Darkmoon is claustrophobic, I did not expect that,” William remarked. He was somewhat relieved to catch Nicholas’ pointed stare. That was more like him.

“I will not let you spoil my good mood,” he said between swallowing more snow, then running his hands up and down his arms.

“Good mood? Albie and Arden are nowhere to be seen. Calix sent us running with our tails between our legs. Most importantly, we lost the book.”

“Oh, but I got something much better.” Chuckling, Nicholas stood on trembling legs. His voice and expression feigned humor well enough, but his body betrayed him. The hands clutched at his side continued to tremble. “Shall I share a secret with you, William Vandervult?”

William stood and dusted himself off. “Will I regret this secret?”

“Most likely, for if you tell another soul, it won’t just be my wrath you incur but that of my father. Believe it or not, he is far worse than me.”

William could not imagine that, but the way Nicholas admired him piqued his interest. “What is this secret?”

“Fae do not have monarchs. They have lords over wild Faerie lands, but no lord owns their land,” said Nicholas.

“As usual, fae make no sense.”

“To you, no, for your lands are dead.” Nicholas knocked his heel against the forest floor. “Faerie lands have power, each different from the last. Some are well known. Some are guessed upon. Some haven’t a clue. Only the lords of these lands and their direct lineage can tap into the power of these lands, and Darkmoon has a rather secretive and unique ability. There’s a saying that all know in Faerie; do not bleed upon Darkmoon soil for you will never leave.”

“Is that some form of curse?” William asked. “Your blood binds you forever to the lands.”

“In a manner. You can physically leave, but Darkmoon knows you. Has a part of you and will always find you.”

William sighed. “This helps us, how?”

“I am of Darkmoon, as much a part of the land as the roots of its trees.” Nicholas shut his eyes. When next they opened, they were striking violet; Fearworn’s eyes. Though only Nicholas could pull off such a vicious grin.

“That blood,” William muttered. “Fearworn’s?”

“Precisely. So far from Faerie, the power of Darkmoon is weakened, but enough. Enough for me to hear and sometimes see through his eyes. He’ll never be the wiser. Now,” Nicholas cackled, elated beyond words. “I can track this bastard for the rest of his damn life.”

That was the first time William had felt it in years; hope. A spark so hot that he actually joined Nicholas in his laughter. The fae’s shock rendered him silent while William sounded mad, pressing a hand to the back of his smiling lips that wouldn’t cease no matter how much he willed them to. The always hidden Calix Fearworn got caught by the one fae he shouldn’t have. Out of everyone, Nicholas got his hands on him. Teeth more accurately, and those teeth would never let go. Nicholas could find him. The puppeteer’s string could be severed and the world set free. The war could end. William could go home. That laughter spilled over so loudly it made his throat ache and tears tickle the edge of his eyes.

“I never heard you laugh,” Nicholas said. “I was beginning to think you incapable of it.”

“You never stopped to think it was because you never did anything worthy of a laugh,” William countered, struggling to contain the chuckles bubbling in his throat.

“Of course not. I’m a thrill to be around.”

William’s laughter continued. He couldn’t stop even when Nicholas approached. The fae captured his neck and waist. A rough hold where his nails pinched the skin of William’s nape and for good reason. He’d have pulled away otherwise. At least he told himself he’d pull away if he could when Nicholas kissed him.

It was everything. A rush. A danger. A curse. Shivering pleasure corrupted his senses as Nicholas clung to him like a last breath. The collision of their lips was by no means gentle. Nothing with Nicholas ever was. His pressure was overpowering, his wanting engraved into teeth that bit at William’s lips. His tongue sought havoc, to muddle William’s mind. It worked. He thought of nothing. A moment suspended in bliss, in the touch of Nicholas’ ravenous hands upon his shivering skin and their bodies becoming one. The heat of the hot spring paled to this. Nothing could mimic how good Nicholas’ wicked mouth felt pressed against his, or the pleasure of hearing the soft growl emanating from the back of his throat when William dared to retreat. Nicholas was greedy even for his breaths, trying to yank him in for more.

“Now is not the time for this,” he muttered against Nicholas’ mouth, although he knew he should have said more. That this was wrong. He didn’t want it. But they were grand lies he couldn’t even pretend to believe. As their lips brushed between panted breaths, all he could think about was kissing the bastard again.

“Now is the best time,” Nicholas argued. His lips cascaded to William’s neck, hungry and eager to mark him. “Consider that a celebratory kiss and those to come a chance taken in case those beasts return to tear us to shreds. I want a taste of you before that may happen.”

“Why?”

“Because you are disobedient.” Nicholas met his eyes, pressed their foreheads together so their gasps mingled in puffs of white. “You are a haunted soul, wild, dark, and dangerous. I dislike you entirely, but it is a strange dislike, one I crave.”

“One you crave to crush.” William pressed his hands to Nicholas’ shoulder and pushed. “I will not let you fool me.”

“Fool you?” Nicholas’ fingers danced over his erratic pulse. “You are fooling yourself. What I may or may not do doesn’t frighten you. What frightens you is that you like this as much as I do, my wicked. The danger. The rush.”

William bit the inside of his cheek.

“A warm cup of tea and books, you said?” Nicholas chuckled. “You were a child, but not anymore. Now, you’re a dangerous man seeking to be something you aren’t.”

William should have formed a witty remark, should have fought back, but Nicholas spoke the truth and he hated it. The truth terrified him, particularly when spoken by a fae who shouldn’t have known so much.

“William!” Charmaine’s voice cut through the haze and William conjured the power to shove Nicholas aside.

“We’re here,” he said, hurrying towards the edge of the hillside where he believed to have heard her. Charmaine appeared along the edge covered in debris of the forest and blood. A long gash tore through her twitching left arm and her right eye swelled shut.

“Most of the blood isn’t mine,” she said before William conjured a word. “Arden needs you, though. Right now.”

A hand caught William’s waist. He stifled a curse as Nicholas leapt up the hillside, landing beside Charmaine. His hand lingered a moment longer than it should have. Charmaine didn’t notice, already rushing in the other direction. William felt it, though, that brief moment of Nicholas’ warm fingers. Then he hurried forward, intent on ignoring the lustful eyes at his back and the cursed moment shared.