Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Dyfri
It’s hard not to sneeze as I push open the door of the secret passage. As I step out into Laurie’s art studio, dazzling winter sunlight assaults my eyes.
Laurie whirls to face me, paintbrush in hand, and the dire wolf wags her tail, thumping it against the floorboards where she is sprawled.
“Dyfri!” Laurie exclaims brightly.
His astonishingly blue eyes are full of joy, as if he truly is very happy to see me. I narrow my eyes, but I still can’t find the lie, no matter how hard I search his face. It is very annoying.
“Is your husband here?” I ask.
Laurie nods. “He is in his study.”
My gaze drifts over to the canvas on the easel. The image is still taking shape, but it’s clearly a very erotic depiction of my brother.
Laurie blushes impressively and steps in front of it, blocking my view.
“I take it my brother is treating you well?” I ask dryly.
Laurie nods fervently. “And your husband…”
“Is a teddy bear,” I assure him.
Laurie’s shoulders drop, and a look of relief flows over his pretty face. Almost as if he was worried about me. Which has to be utter nonsense.
His gaze lifts up to my hair, and he smiles. “You still have my friendship braid.”
My body bristles. “I’m keeping all the braids I can get.”
“Okay,” Laurie says softly.
He really is far too sweet. He was horribly abused as a child, yet somehow manages to be kind, innocent and trusting.
Unlike me in every way. I’m bitter and twisted and so very, very angry. All the time.
I draw myself up to full height. “I don’t have time for chitchat.” Then, I turn on my heels and stride away.
“See you later, Dyfri,” Laurie says cheerfully to my back. He truly is annoying.
I march into Selwyn’s study. He puts down the piece of paper he was reading and stares at me expectantly. Sunlight slanting across his face from the latticed window.
“Our plans have been disrupted,” I tell him.
Wait? Did I really just speak English? Is living with humans as well as befriending them, addling my mind that much?
Selwyn steeples his fingers together and leans back in his padded red leather chair. “What happened?”
“One of your stupid dragon riders nearly ruined everything,” I inform him, in Fey.
His eyebrow rises.
“They approached Jack, and then Jack thought I was going to cause his downfall by informing Rhydian, and was about to strike first, so I had to reveal my intentions.”
Selwyn nods. “Things have been brought forward sooner than expected, but that is manageable.”
“Is it?” I say as I collapse into the chair facing his desk and help myself to the drink by his elbow. He probably poured it for himself, but it’s mine now.
“We don’t know if we can trust him,” I add.
“Why wouldn’t he want his world back?” Selwyn shrugs.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Because people are rarely that straightforward. Jack might choose reward and riches from betraying us over the freedom of his people.”
“Feed him a truth serum.”
“Thoose only work on what he has done, not on what he will do.”
Selwyn fixes me with an odd look. “I’ve come to learn that humans are not as duplicitous as fey.”
I snort so hard I nearly inhale my drink. “Don’t allow Laurie to cloud your judgment. Your consort might be the most guileless creature to ever breathe, but other humans can be just as cruel as us.”
Selwyn’s brown eyes grow all soft as he thinks about Laurie. It’s quite sickening to observe such ridiculous sappiness. I snap my fingers to get him to concentrate.
Selwyn sighs as he pulls himself together. He flashes me a wicked grin. “Well, that’s why you are seducing Jack Caxton and making him fall in love with you.”
Something coils cold in my belly. Like a snake. What kind of terrible whisky have I stolen from Selwyn?
“That part of the plan is no longer proceeding,” I mutter as I take another sip.
Selwyn tilts his head. “Why not?”
I glare at him. “Because it is not necessary!” I no longer want to trick Jack, and I can’t explain why, so my brother is just going to have to take my word for it.
Selwyn smiles. An evil smile. One that gleams in his eyes. “Are you soft for him?”
My drink slams down on the desk, sloshing everywhere. “Absolutely not!”
Selwyn has the sheer and utter audacity to smirk.
“The seduction was your idea, not mine,” I remind him icily. “And it was a terrible one. Jack isn’t some vapid court nobleman who can be manipulated with pretty words and bedroom skills.”
“No?” Selwyn’s voice is deceptively mild. “Then what is he?”
I pause, my mind conjuring an image of Jack’s face when he defended me to Lady Morwenna. The fury in his eyes when he learned what the court thinks of me. The gentle way he holds me when I require his assistance.
“He’s...” I search for the right words. “He’s decent. Honourable. He actually means what he says.”
“How refreshingly novel,” Selwyn observes. “And terrifying for someone like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not used to people who don’t have hidden agendas. People who might actually care about you without wanting something in return.” Selwyn leans back in his chair, studying me with those perceptive brown eyes. “It means you’re scared.”
“I am not scared of a human,” I snap.
“No, you’re scared of what you feel for him.”
The words hit too close to home. I stand abruptly, but Selwyn continues before I can storm out.
“Dyfri, sit down. We need to discuss this properly.”
Something in his tone makes me comply, though I remain rigid in my chair.
“Tell me,” Selwyn says carefully, “do you trust Jack Caxton?”
“I...” The answer should be simple. No, obviously. Trust is a luxury I’ve never been able to afford. But when I think about Jack, about the way he looked at me when I told him about being half-unseelie, the words that come out are… “Yes.”
“Then why are you here questioning his loyalty instead of working with him to refine our plans?”
“Because trusting him feels...” I struggle to articulate the sensation. “Dangerous. Like standing on the edge of a cliff.”
“And yet you do it anyway.”
“Yes.”
Selwyn’s expression softens slightly. “That’s called caring about someone, Brother. It’s supposed to feel dangerous.”
“I don’t care about him,” I lie. “He’s useful. Strategically positioned. Nothing more.”
“Of course not.” Selwyn’s tone is absolutely deadpan. “That’s why you’re wearing your wedding braid like it’s a crown jewel.”
“I haven’t got time for this!” I snap as I get to my feet.
“You never do,” Selwyn says mildly. “But perhaps that’s the problem. Perhaps it’s time you stopped running from things that might actually make you happy.”
“Happiness is for other people,” I say coldly.
“Or are you simply scared of the unknown?”
The question follows me as I stride out without another word. I slink through the secret passageway and through Selwyn’s portal door, emerging in the living room of Jack’s flat with my brother’s words still echoing in my mind.
Jack turns away from the television he was watching to look at me. His entire face lights up. His oddly coloured eyes sparkling with genuine pleasure at seeing me.
“You came back!” he exclaims.
My heart flutters. It beats too fast and then too slow. I have an absurd urge to rub at my chest, as if that’s going to help. Selwyn’s words echo mockingly. That’s called caring about someone.
“Of course!” I snap.
Jack’s smile grows even bigger. He really is impossible.
“I was watching the news,” he says, gesturing to the television. “More reports about unrest in other cities. People are starting to ask questions about the fey laws.”
I study his face carefully, looking for signs of calculation or manipulation. Instead, I see only genuine concern.
“And how does that make you feel?” I ask.
“Hopeful,” he admits. “If people are asking questions, it means they’re not just accepting the occupation as permanent. They’re still thinking like free people.”
The simple honesty in his voice does something strange to my chest. This is what Selwyn meant about humans being less duplicitous than fey. Jack doesn’t layer his words with hidden meanings or political calculations. He just... says what he thinks.
And for some crazy reason, he seems to trust me as easily as he breathes.
“That’s a dangerous way to think,” I tell him, settling onto the sofa beside him. “If the wrong people hear you expressing such sentiments...”
“They’ll what? Arrest me? Execute me?” Jack shrugs. “Sometimes the risk is worth it.”
“Is it? Is your freedom worth dying for?”
The question comes out more seriously than I intended. Jack turns to look at me directly, and there’s something fierce in his expression.
“Yes,” he says simply. “Isn’t yours?”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Because the answer, I realise, is yes. My freedom is worth dying for. I know far too well what it is like to be enslaved. To be owned and possessed.
But more than that, Jack’s freedom is worth dying for. The thought of him living under fey rule for the rest of his life, of watching him slowly lose that spark of rebellious hope, is unbearable.
When did that happen? When did his wellbeing become more important to me than my own survival? Surviving at any cost is the foundation of my identity. It is who I am. Why the hell am I suddenly factoring in someone else? It doesn’t make sense.
Jack is pleasing on the eye, and pleasing in bed. But that’s not enough to change every single thing about me. What the hell is happening to me?
“Dyfri?” Jack’s voice is gentle. “Are you alright?”
I blink, realising I’ve been staring at him for far too long. “Fine. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how much our execution is going to hurt if we’re caught.”
Jack’s smile is rueful. “Probably a lot. But we’re going to do it anyway, aren’t we? Side by side.”
“Yes,” I say, and the certainty in my voice surprises even me. “We are.”
“Good.” Jack reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together with a casual intimacy that makes my heart skip. “Because I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. And I have some ideas.”
As he begins outlining his thoughts, his face animated with passion and intelligence, I find myself watching the play of expressions across his features. The way his eyes light up when he’s excited about something. The way he gestures with his free hand while keeping hold of mine with the other.
Selwyn was right. I am soft for him. Terrifyingly, completely, undeniably, soft.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t want to run from my feelings.