2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

become a living candle, poor Keir will throw a hissy fit. And then you’d ruin the party for
everyone.
Because the fire would let them all know I wasn’t normal—and no doubt Keir would
inform his almost-allies in the Autumn Court. Or one of these other monsters would.
Rhys shifted his hips, rubbing against me with enough pressure that for a second, I
didn’t care about Keir, or the Autumn Court, or what Azriel might be doing right now to
steal the orb.
I had been so cold, so lonely, for so long, and my body cried out at the contact, at the
joy of being touched and held and alive.
The hand that had been on my waist slid across my abdomen, hooking into the lowslung
belt there. I rested my head between his shoulder and neck, staring at the crowd as
they stared at me, savoring every place where Rhys and I connected and wanting more
more more.
At last, when my blood had begun to boil, when Rhys skimmed the underside of my
breast with his knuckle, I looked to where I knew Keir was standing, watching us, my
wine forgotten in his hand.
We both did.
The Steward was staring unabashedly as he leaned against the wall. Unsure whether to
interrupt. Half terrified to. We were his distraction. We were the sleight of hand while Az
stole the orb.
I knew Rhys was still holding Keir’s gaze as the tip of his tongue slid up my neck.
I arched my back, eyes heavy-lidded, breathing uneven. I’d burn and burn and burn—
I think he’s so disgusted that he might have given me the orb just to get out of here,
Rhys said in my mind, that other hand drifting dangerously south. But there was such a
growing ache there, and I wore nothing beneath that would conceal the damning evidence
if he slid his hand a fraction higher.
You and I put on a good show, I said back. The person who said that, husky and sultry
—I’d never heard that voice come out of me before. Even in my mind.
His hand slid to my upper thigh, fingers curving in.
I ground against him, trying to shift those hands away from what he’d learn—
To find him hard against my backside.
Every thought eddied from my head. Only a thrill of power remained as I writhed along
that impressive length. Rhys let out a low, rough laugh.
Keir just watched and watched and watched. Rigid. Horrified. Stuck here, until Rhys
released him—and not thinking twice about why. Or where the spymaster had gone.
So I turned around again, meeting Rhysand’s now-blazing eyes, and then licked up the
column of his throat. Wind and sea and citrus and sweat. It almost undid me.