Ivy's Choice (The Fey Quartet Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

food. Are you hungry?”
     
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    THEY STAYED FOR only an hour; an hour was the longest Larkspur could cope with having other people’s thoughts filling her head. “Do you think Hugh will change into himself tonight?” Larkspur asked, when Ivy reached for her crutch.
    “It’s possible.” Ivy looked at the roebuck. He lay curled up in the sunshine, watching them. “I don’t know whether to hope for it or not. It hurts him so.”
    “If he does . . . will you be all right?”
    Ivy glanced at her, and saw anxiety in her eyes. “I shall be perfectly safe,” she said, giving her sister’s cool fingers a reassuring squeeze. And if Hugh did become human again, and if he had the same fierce need for sex, she would be glad of it.
    Larkspur eyed her uncertainly.
    It’s true, Ivy told her, and felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment, but along with the embarrassment was an edge of defensiveness. Why should she not enjoy sex? She was a grown woman.
    “Take one of the dogs. Please.”
    “No.”
    “But—”
    “If he does change . . .” She remembered Hugh’s agonized screams, the way he’d flailed, thrashed, convulsed. “It would terrify the dogs. Best that they stay here with you, love.”
    Larkspur’s face became even paler. “Is it that bad?” she whispered.
    Ivy grimaced. “Yes.” She climbed to her feet. “Take care of yourself, love. I’ll come and see you tomorrow. And remember to eat .”
    Larkspur stood, too. So did the hounds. So did Hugh.
    Ivy hugged Larkspur tightly. “Only four more days.”
     
     

CHAPTER SIX
    HE WAS DYING, being ripped apart, his skin flayed from his flesh, his muscles shredding, bones snapping. Hugh screamed, and screamed, and screamed again.
    After an eternity, the agony waned and became merely pain. Hugh lay panting, gasping, sobbing.
    The pain faded until only an ache remained.
    Hugh’s senses sorted slowly through his surroundings. He lay on a floor in a dimly lit room, curled up on his side. Rushes pressed against his right cheek. Someone held him from behind, arms around his ribcage, hands splayed across his chest, forehead pressed to his shoulder blade.
    Where am I? Who am I?
    His breathing steadied—and his awareness of himself firmed. He knew who he was, knew where he was. And he knew who was holding him so tightly.
    Hugh swallowed. His throat felt raw from screaming and his voice, when he spoke, was little more than a hoarse whisper. “Ivy?”
    “Hugh?” Her breath caught in a sob. She sat up and leaned over him. “Are you all right?”
    He rolled over slowly, stiffly, trying—and failing—to choke back a groan. Every muscle in his body hurt. He saw Ivy’s face in the firelight, wet with tears. “Don’t cry,” he whispered.
    “It was worse that time, wasn’t it?”
    His mind flinched from the question. No, don’t think about it . “Don’t cry,” he said again, reaching for her.
    Ivy didn’t recoil from him. She came into his embrace and let him gather her in his arms.
    Hugh held her, while the ache faded into nothing. His body began to wake up. He was aware of Ivy’s cheek pillowed on his chest and her soft hair tickling his throat.
    He couldn’t stop himself stroking her hair. Such beautiful hair. The color of midnight, dark and mysterious. Silky soft. He pictured Ivy’s face—her ivory skin, her cool, green eyes, her full, sweet mouth. Heat flushed through his body. His cock stirred.
    Hugh stopped stroking her hair. He released her and turned away, fumbling for the blanket on the floor. “Ivy, go back to your room.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I said so.” Hugh drew the blanket around him, hiding his nudity. His cock stirred again, and began to harden. It had been like this last night, too—the uncontrollable arousal, as if his body had thought itself dying, and now finding itself unexpectedly alive, wanted sex. Affirmation of life at its most basic.
    Hugh gritted his teeth. He might not have control over the arousal, but he