Chapter 33
HORROR CROSSED MY face against my will. I tried to still my features, but I could tell from Soren’s wince that it shone through.
His solemn gaze drifted away and then back to mine. “You might remember that I mentioned it was part of the bargain for my coming here?”
I nodded.
“Well, my father agreed it’d be best.”
I tried not to gasp, but I couldn’t quite stop it. “Your own dad agreed to that deal? Why? That’s insane! How could anyone make a deal like that, much less family?”
“The deal was multipurpose.” Soren’s voice was detached.
He stared at a point on the wall as he explained.
“Removing my wings would impair my strength and cripple me in the eyes of my own court, shaming me and everyone who might try to maintain contact with me. Humiliation is a goal all its own to the folk here.”
My hands covered my mouth as nausea roiled in my stomach. It wasn’t just the aftereffects of the wine anymore. Soren’s tired blue eyes returned to mine, paler than usual, but his hard expression blurred a bit as I blinked away tears. “That’s awful . . .”
“The prince has been jealous of me since we were young. When I ended his engagement to my sister, it only intensified his fury.” Soren stood from the bed, moving to the desk by the wall, which put his back to me.
“There are probably other ways they could’ve severed my ties with my own court, but this particular method fulfilled a personal grudge. ”
When he looked up, I straightened, pulling my hands away from my mouth, unconsciously clenching them into fists at my sides.
I didn’t know what to say.
“To be fair,” he added in a bitter tone, “we are underground. It’s not as if I’d have much use for them here.”
I snorted softly.
He noticed.
When I didn’t say anything else, he raised an eyebrow, waiting. I chewed on my lip. Normally, I’d keep my thoughts to myself, but he’d been vulnerable with me. I should try to do the same. I dropped my gaze as I whispered, “I wouldn’t be okay with losing a foot just because I sat down.”
At first, I thought I’d offended him. But he sighed heavily and said, “You’re right.”
That gave me the courage to continue. “I can’t believe your dad would send you here against your will—”
“It wasn’t.”
I cut off. “What?”
“It was not against my will,” Soren repeated in a low tone. He stared at the floor as he leaned against the desk. “I agreed to the deal. Though,” he added softly, “I didn’t expect Caius to make it quite so painful. That was my own fault.”
“Excuse me?” I scoffed. “None of that is your fault. What a stupid thing to say.”
He blinked at my outburst.
But I wasn’t done. All the frustration and anger I’d built up over the last few days—the last couple weeks, really—exploded at the idea of him choosing this, like he deserved it. “Why would you agree to do something like that?”
“I always do as my father asks.”
“But why?” I demanded again, gripping the blanket beneath me the way I wanted to grab and shake him.
He shifted uncomfortably. “If I don’t, my father has threatened to disown me and remove me from the family completely.”
I stared at him. What was his family like that he’d literally cut off a part of himself for them? They couldn’t be loving, if his own dad let it happen. “You don’t deserve that.”
“You’ve only just met me, Brynn.” His lips turned up on one side in an attempt to smile.
“Doesn’t matter.” I crossed my arms. “No one deserves to be treated that way, first of all. But second, I know you well enough.”
He scoffed. “If I remember correctly, you seemed to think I was fairly immoral quite recently. You don’t need to lie to me.”
I deflated.
“I’m not lying,” I whispered, and unreadable emotions flashed across his downturned face. “I can see how you might think that, because of our deals, but that’s not who I am.”
Grunting, he didn’t look up, unconvinced.
“You said yourself that I’m a terrible liar. Remember?” I reminded him, standing. I ignored my aching head now as I stepped closer, trying to get him to look up.
A tiny curve of his lips encouraged me to keep going.
“Soren . . .”
Those pale blue eyes lifted to mine.
I pressed my lips together, searching for the right words. “I did assume you were tricking me, and stealing humans, and that you were generally the worst . . .”
“I don’t love the direction you’re—”
He cut off as my fingers covered his lips, eyes widening like he couldn’t believe I’d dared. I couldn’t quite believe it either.
I pulled them back, hand tingling.
Chewing on my lip, I shook my head. “Listen . . .”
He held my gaze.
Just say it.
“I was wrong.”
The soft rays of sun from the skylight above trickled down, shifting over the oddly vulnerable expression on his face. “Thank you for saying that.”
Out of words, I nodded.
He’d said telling someone “thank you” meant you owed them . . . and then he’d done it anyway. Was that on purpose? Why would he trust me like that?
He reached up to gently tug on my chin until I stopped biting my lip.
Instead of letting go, though, he slowly traced my bottom lip with his thumb.
My lips parted.
I couldn’t breathe.
He waited for me to pull back, clearly expecting me to draw the same harsh lines between us as before, but I didn’t.
Instead, I unconsciously, ever so slightly, leaned in.
His eyes widened. Leaning forward too, achingly slow, he lowered his head until less than an inch separated us. Then he stopped, searching my face with a question on his own.
I tilted my chin up in answer.
His hand came up to my cheek to reverently trace my currently very human face, and then he closed the distance.
The soft brush of his lips on mine made my eyes flutter closed.
I smiled as he pulled back, but it faded when I remembered my family. How could I forget them for even a second? With a hard swallow, I stepped back, trying to shake off the lingering desire to do that again.
“I’m sorry—” he began, concern wrinkling his brow.
“No, don’t.” I stopped him from apologizing for the kiss that still distracted me. “I just . . . I can’t right now when my family might be in trouble or hurt.”
“Of course,” he murmured. “I understand.” Straightening, he cleared his throat and turned to his writing desk. “I supposed we should consider what we know so far.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out his logbook, then rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms.
When he turned back, I blushed, caught staring.
Soren pulled out the desk chair to sit, while I returned to the edge of the bed.
“I remember the fae who took your father and sisters, but let me confirm to be sure.” He opened the book and flipped through the pages until he found the right one.
“As I recalled. There were two.” He glanced up.
“Can you describe which of the two actually signed the deal with your family?”
“Yeah,” I agreed eagerly, but instead of describing the pale fae with thin wings that looked like bubbles when they caught the light, I accidentally let myself think of the difference between her and the first fae who’d taken Mom, and said, “I can also describe kissing you if you’d like.”
I flushed hot and covered my face with my hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It’s a thing that happens when—” I cut off just before it happened again.
He grinned but thankfully didn’t make me wallow in the embarrassment. “It’s all right. I recognize the magic.”
When he paused, I peeked at him, surprised that he’d turned a little red also.
“How about we try nodding yes or no,” he suggested, breezing past the moment for both our sakes. “Did they have wings?”
Immediately, I nodded.
His expression fell, and he slowly closed the logbook with a sigh. “Her name is Ivywren.”
“Why doesn’t that sound like good news?” I narrowed my eyes.
“While we have certain methods of stealing fae blood when necessary, I can’t remember the last time we attempted to do so with Ivywren.” He stood, giving me a half-hearted smile, which brought my mind right back to the kiss. My hand unconsciously rose toward my lips before I stopped it.
Soren stayed focused on business, unaware of where my mind had gone. “Our first step will be asking Julian to find out if we still have any of her blood.”
“One problem . . .” I stood slowly as well. “Caius told me he owns their contracts. Does that mean we need his blood instead?”
A shadow crossed Soren’s face. “It could,” he admitted.
“A hurdle we will cross when we come to it. Another will be finding their contracts. Caius is known to guard court contracts carefully, whether they’re signed to him or another fae, such as Ivywren.
” He moved to the closet, throwing it open and pulling out a fresh shirt and pants.
Without warning, he unbuttoned his vest, shrugged it off, and began unbuttoning the shirt underneath as well.
I blushed and jumped up, rounding the bed in a hurry and smacking into the sharp bedpost. Ouch. I’d just bruised my hip. “I’ll leave you to, um . . . yeah.”
Possibly my most awkward exit ever.
I practically ran down the stairs, heading for the bathroom, because I also really had to pee.
After using the bathroom, I peeked in the mirror. I looked like a train wreck. My wrinkled pants and shirt screamed, “I slept in this,” and my bangs stuck out at odd angles—not to mention I smelled sweaty after dancing my butt off last night. My muscles ached with every movement.
Wetting my hands with water, I drug my fingers through my wild hair to tame it. By the time I meandered to the empty kitchen, Soren appeared in the doorway, completely put together with fresh clothes, hair brushed, and a calm smile.
Though from the way he blushed, he might not be as confident as he pretended.
As I quietly poured myself another big cup of water and drank the whole thing, he opened a pan of cinnamon rolls and set two on a plate for me. My mouth watered at the sugary smell. I scarfed them down, and they might’ve been magic with the way my head instantly felt better after eating.
Though tempted to ask if I could raid Lore’s closet yet again or maybe take a long, hot bath, I had a burning question that had risen from the haze of the night before. Without explanation, I asked, “Do you know the name Thorneveil? Or a clan called, uh . . . Grim-something, I think.”
“Grimhollow?” His brows rose high.
“Yes. That’s the one. You know it?”
“Everyone knows it,” he said slowly, pushing off the counter to circle it, coming to join me at the table. “Why do you ask?”
“Caius kept saying it last night. He said I was ‘the daughter of Maeve Thorneveil.’ ” A shiver of relief passed through me that Soren finally knew that Mom had been taken.
Because even now, that word vomit sensation rose up if I thought it.
“And something about not harming a member of the Grimhollow clan. But I don’t know what that means. ”
Instead of answering, Soren traced my face, eyes widening like he’d never seen me before. “The daughter of Maeve?” he whispered. “Are you sure?”
“Well, yeah, that’s my mom’s name. But I didn’t know her maiden name was Thorneveil.”
Soren shook his head slowly as he sank back in his chair.
“I mean, I think she’s Irish, but they usually have names that start with ‘O’ or ‘Mac’ and have a pretty rolling sound, you know?” I was rambling now, because his behavior was starting to freak me out. “What kind of a name is Thorneveil, anyway?”
Blowing out a breath, Soren met my gaze. “It’s Unseelie.”