“We do not have the time for me to earn your trust the way I’d like at this point.” He reaches, gently brushing some of my hair out of my eyes. “Offer me a contract.”

“What?” The question leaves me in a breathy sound. “No.”

I did not hear this fae correctly.

He did not just ask me for a contract.

A small smile plays on his lips. “Afraid to damn my soul? I’m flattered.”

“No, I don’t care about your soul,” I snarl the words and he chuckles. “I am not going to bind myself to a mortal positioned to claim me in the name of some archaic faerie throne, Ryc.”

His laughter grows, fueling my budding irritation.

In a swift motion, he tilts my chin, lifting my face to his. His lips hover over mine. I freeze, my muscles winding in tight. One slight shift, the tiniest push of my toes and I could taste him. My toes curl in my boots in an attempt to thwart the idea.

His eyes dance with amusement as he drags them from my lips to meet my wide-eyed stare.

“You will know should I ever seek to claim you, little demon.”