Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3) by Emma Hamm (books to read this summer .txt) 📕

it was to know how to dance. Women loved a man who could sweep them off their feet and whirl them in circles until they were breathless.

He thanked the gods for giving him strength. Being near her was almost too tempting. She smelled like a bonfire and felt as though he were holding the same in his arms. She was a captured spirit he suddenly didn’t want to let go of. His arms tightened upon her. For all that he could hold onto her, Jasper knew very well that he would have to release her soon enough.

Mercy was not a creature made to be caged. Even if the cage was his embrace.

She kept up with his every step. He expected her to fight him and try to lead the dance, but she was pliant in his arms. Every move he made was adapted to. Their bodies twined to the music and coiled together as though they had been made for each other.

“Were you made to always be in love?” Bluebell giggled.

He looked up towards the sky and shrugged his shoulders. He hoped Mercy would think he was simply adjusting. When he looked down at her, he had a feeling she understood he was responding to Bluebell.

“You spent most of your life in love with the Siren.” Bluebell spat out the last word. “And now, I dare say you’re falling in love with the Phoenix just when you can’t have the Siren anymore. You’re more Fairy-like than you think.”

He scowled, wanting her desperately to stop picking on him so he could enjoy dancing.

Bluebell grumbled. “Fine. But you should think on it.”

Lingering upon such thoughts was useless. He didn’t need to think about the answer, because it was a resounding yes. He had wanted a family since he was a little boy. Loving and being loved was the only reason for life, in his opinion. The Fairy felt the same way. So she ought to understand how he felt.

He leaned down to dip Mercy, his hand cupping the back of her neck. The back of his neck burned as she held onto him. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither moving to the music, which swelled around them.

Her ombre eyes swirled with passion and anger. It was an intriguing mix, and he fully planned to explore it.

“Why are you staring at me?” he teased.

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I stare because I found a rare creature. She burns in the night and invades my dreams.”

Mercy snorted. “You do not dream of me.”

“I do.”

“You still dream of Lyra,” she told him. Her hand massaged his neck in a strange bloom of heat. “And that’s okay.”

“I dream of her because I worry they are not doing well without me. But it is you I dream of when I do not have nightmares.”

“What kind of dreams do you have?” Mercy’s eyes sparked. Or maybe it was the shower of red that spread around them like the aftermath of the fireworks.

“I hope the same things you dream of.”

He didn’t consider himself to be particularly good at flirting. Hell, his only practice had been the same person since he was twelve. Anyone else had been a passing fling that had been initiated by a woman who wondered what it would be like with a man who had Fairy wings.

But this was different. This he wanted.

He wanted her.

Jasper didn’t know why it had taken so long for him to realize, but there it was. He wanted Mercy. Fully, completely, so much that it was an ache in his chest he couldn’t ignore.

He leaned into her further, still holding her in the dip, until his breath fanned across her lips. His wings beat slowly to balance the two of them.

“Come back to my tent with me tonight,” he said.

“No.”

A spear seemed to strike through his chest. “No?”

He had come to recognize the sly smile she answered him with. “I don’t think either of us really wants to be confined to a tent where anyone could hear us.”

“Loud?”

“Very.”

He growled. “Why do I feel like this may leave me scarred for life?”

“Physically and mentally.” Her teeth flashed in the firelight. “But I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

He nipped at her lips, not caring who saw. “Now?”

“Now.”

Pulling her back up was effortless, but letting her step away from him was another story. Reluctantly, he let her pull from the circle of his arms.

She kept her hand in his. He calmed himself with that knowledge as cold air chilled him to the bone. Though he couldn’t see himself, Jasper was certain his skin was singed pink. The flames still covered her body like clothing, and he could not wait to see what else she could do with them.

“Come on, Fairy boy.”

If anyone laughed or cheered, Jasper didn’t hear them. His attention was consumed by her glowing, blood red hair and the flames licking at her thighs.

She drew him deeper and deeper into the forest. The roots of the trees called out to him. The leaves sang a song as ancient as the blood flowing through his veins. Fairies were connected to the land more than any other species. They were part of the life that grew here, and he now felt the call of his ancestors.

He lost his breath when she pulled him down onto a bed of moss. He lost his heart when she welcomed him with open arms. He lost his soul when her flames disappeared and long limbs were revealed. And by the time his hands had explored every inch of her unusual body, he had given her every bit of himself that existed.

Afterwards, they lay with limbs tangled around each other. He couldn’t help but stroke her hair. His hand lingered on the elegant lines of her back and the hollow between her shoulder blades.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked her.

She nuzzled into his neck and hummed, “I used to.”

“Not now?”

“If I believe in fate, then I was always meant to be locked away while