I roll my eyes, trying to cover the fact that my toes are curling in my boots. “Everyone knows you’re one of the strongest light channelers in a millennium, princeling. I’m just stating a fact.”

“Is that so?” His words are low and deep, and his eyes now shine with a hungry gleam. “Just so we’re clear, witchling.” He takes yet another step, and I’m unable to move, unable to tear my eyes from his. “I’m not one of the most powerful light channelers. I’m the most powerful light channeler in recorded history, and the records in the Velmaran archive date back an eternity. None have been born with power like mine, and were you not born at the same time as me, I’d be considered the most powerful fae to ever live. Lucky for me, that title—and all the bullshit that comes with it—belongs to you.”

My back arches, my body bending in orbit around this powerful fae. The temptation to give into whatever sparks between us anytime we’re near one another is overwhelming, the desire to let those strong arms wrap around me almost overpowering my senses. But then I remember Mazus and Silene and all the reasons this cannot happen, so I take a step back, the distance between us a chasm.

“I’ve taught you a fun party trick, now you’re up. Show me your light tricks, oh Shining Prince,” I say with a mocking tone to cut the tension.

His grin is practically feral this time, an expression I’ve never seen before, filled with heat and lust and primal need. Before I even sense the aether moving around me—something that should be impossible with my power—he wraps my wrists in ropes of light and uses magic to pull them above my head. They’re firm, but gentle, and the light somehow caresses me while it binds me. He takes a step closer, and the ropes pull even tighter, raising my arms so high that my back arches and my breasts push out from my body, front and center as he takes me in. My breath catches, and the image of him using those ropes of light to pin me to my bed flashes, unbidden, in my mind. My core heats, and there’s a pulsing between my legs that I absolutely do not want to think about. I push the image away, but it returns as he slowly stalks closer to me, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Our surroundings are charged with magic, and one of us—I’m unsure who—has conjured the glowing mist again. This time, it’s thick, blocking out everything around us and making his eyes glow like two unholy green orbs through the haze.