Free Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) by Danielle Martin Williams

but realization wound a tight ball in the center of my throat. He was scary. It was as though his good looks were merely a weapon used to lure in prey, and the chivalrous façade was only a tool meant to leave the victim credulous and vulnerable; I was beginning to think I shouldn’t trust him.
                  “What do they look like?” I asked, skimming the surroundings to find any signs of these fairy people and to take my mind off the short poundings of my vigilant instinct that resonated throughout my torso.
                  He pointed to his forehead. “They carve blue moons between their eyes. They are small, and their garments are made of fur.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “If you see one, you will know.”
                  “Is Morgaina of the fairy folk?” I asked, remembering how he had searched my forehead before believing I was not her.
                  “She was raised with them and took the mark, but she is not quite one of them.” He stopped, scowling at the mention of her then turned in a small circle observing the vast amount of trees around him.
                  “What is she?”  I was curious now.
                  He shifted his eyes down at me. “She is a sorceress, amongst many other things that I shall not name in front of a lady.” He shrugged his shoulders again, looking up towards the slanted treetops. “She uses demons and black magic to do her drudgery.” His gaze was still tilted upward, but I could see the emeralds watching me from the corners. “She is powerful…” he drawled out in a chilling tone, “evil in its foulest form.”
                  I glanced around, feeling very uneasy at the dark shadows that crept from the forest trees in places where the sun could not penetrate through. I couldn’t help but feel that she was near, watching us, and the idea of it suddenly made him seem like a teddy bear. “Aren’t you afraid?” I blurted out.
                  He chuckled. “Why should I be afraid?”
                  “Because she could kill you.”
                  He smiled wickedly again, as he began walking forward. “I do not fear death, girl.”
                  My eyes widened, shocked at his words, which only seemed to entertain him. “But it is human nature to fight for survival,” I mumbled, not really sure what to say. 
    He stopped and turned to face me, the sinfu l gleam brightening in his eyes. “If it was in your nature to survive, you would have released the bracelet.” He put one hand behind my neck and roughly yanked my head towards him, leaning down close to my face, nose-to-nose, making my heart beat so fast, I was sure it would burst. “Your instincts should have told you to run from me,” he whispered sardonically. He put a few inches between our faces, green eyes sparkling with nefarious amusement, as he slowly lowered his hand from my neck. “But here you are.”
    My legs felt flimsy , and I tried to swallow down the acid rising in my stomach, but it was nearly impossible with the huge knot that had tangled once again in my throat.
    “How are you to know I will not leave you to fend for yourself.” He tilted his head down, as his eyes peered threateningly at me. “Or take your life myself?”
    I stepped back from him , bumping into a tree behind me. “Y—you saved me from that dragon…”
                  He crossed his arms over his red tunic. “I saved myself.” He smirked matter-of-factly, and there was a truth to his words. After all, of course he had to fight it off; he would have been killed as well. I had expected fight or flight to make a showing but neither did, both appearing to be as afraid of him as I was, and so there I stood—alone and trembling—staring dumbly at him like a deer caught in the headlights. 
                  The right side of his mouth curled up wider