Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
CAIRN
She stares at me. “Go free? What do you mean go free?”
“Exactly what I said. Agree to my terms, and when the sun rises, you can leave. You can go back to the palace, your father, and your life. I won’t stop you.”
“You’re just … going to let me go, after everything you’ve done?”
I incline my head. “If you agree to my terms, yes.”
“Which are what, exactly? Do whatever you wish with me? That could mean anything.”
It could. That’s the point.
I take another sip of wine. She’s still flushed from the last hour and the truth bargain we struck.
Watching her fight the compulsion. Watching her lose. Watching her face burn and her body squirm as confession after confession spilled out—that she thinks about what I did to her, that she’s attracted to me, that she liked watching me kill.
I enjoyed that far more than I should have.
Now I want to see what else I can get her to admit. But this time I want to use my hands and my mouth. I want to drag sounds out of her, I want to find out what she looks like when she gives everything up to me.
And then I want to watch her walk away, knowing she’ll spend the rest of her life remembering this night. Remembering that it was a fae who awakened her body to pleasure, and not the husband I’m sure her father has lined up for her.
“I want your body.” I say it plainly. “From now until sunrise. To do with as I please.”
Her cheeks turn pink but she doesn’t look away.
“And then you’ll let me go.”
“That’s right.”
“No.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No?”
“You’ve spent weeks humiliating me. You made me kneel beside your chair like a dog. You collared me. You hurt me.” Her voice is shaking, but she doesn’t back down. “And you want me to give you my body? Willingly? So you can do whatever you want to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why? So you can add one more humiliation to the list?” She’s gripping the arms of her chair so hard her knuckles have turned white. “So you can take the one thing I’ve never given to anyone, and use it against me later?”
“If I wanted to take it, I wouldn’t be asking for your consent.”
That stops her. I watch as she processes my words.
“You could,” she says slowly. “You could just take what you want. You’re stronger than me. I couldn’t stop you.”
“No. You couldn’t.”
“Then why ask? Why offer me anything in return?”
Because I’ve had three hundred years of bodies using mine without my consent. Because I know exactly what it feels like to be used. Because watching you squirm through those confessions makes me want to know what else I can make you want … but only if you choose to let me.
I don’t say any of that, nor do I allow it to show on my face.
“Because I want you willing.”
She laughs, a short bitter sound. “Willing? You think I’d be willing?”
“I think you’ve been wet since I asked if you liked what you saw at the stream. I think you lie awake at night wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped last night.”
Her face flames. “That’s not—”
“You told me yourself less than an hour ago. The bargain wouldn’t let you lie.” I tilt my head. “So, yes, Moirthalen, I think you’d be willing. I think you want this more than you want to admit.”
Her pulse jumps visibly in her throat. “This is a trick. Some kind of trap. You’ll agree to let me go, but you’ll find a loophole.”
“Fae can’t lie.”
“Fae can twist words until they mean something else entirely.”
I hide a smile. Smart female.
“All right.” I lean forward, holding her gaze.
“If you agree to this bargain, and see it through until sunrise, I will let you leave freely. I will not stop you. I will not try to change the terms of our bargain. One night where you consent to give me your body, and in return, I will free you once the sun has risen. No tricks. No twists. No conditions beyond what I have laid out.”
She stares at me. I can see her mind examining every word I’ve said, looking for a way for me to twist it. She won’t find any.
“What … What about Nella?”
“What about her?”
“If I leave, what happens to her?”
“She’ll be returned to you before you reach the palace. Unharmed.”
She searches my face. “I need to know why.”
“I have my reasons.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“It’s all I’m willing to give you.”
She stands abruptly, pacing in front of the fire.
“If I say no, what happens?”
“Nothing. Tomorrow continues as it has been. You remain my prisoner until I decide otherwise.” And the Nightwild magic will continue to strengthen.
“And if I say yes, and then change my mind before sunrise?”
“You won’t.”
She spins to face me. “You don’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do.” I stand, and she takes an involuntary step back. “You’ve been hating yourself for responding to me, telling yourself it’s wrong and shameful and you should be disgusted with yourself. But you’re not disgusted, are you? You’re curious, and you’re hungry.”
Her breathing is coming in quick little bursts now, her eyes locked on mine.
“I hate you.” She whispers.
“I know.”
“You’ve done terrible things to me.”
“Yes.”
“I should want you dead.”
“You should.”
“Then why—” She swallows, and closes her eyes. “Why do I want to say yes?”
I reach out and trace my thumb along her jaw. She tenses, but doesn’t pull away.
“Because wanting something doesn’t require liking it or understanding it.” I let my hand drop. “From now until sunrise, and then you’re free. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
“If I accept …” Her tongue snakes across her lips. “What exactly are you planning to do with me?”
I smile. “I’m going to ruin you.”
Her eyes snap open. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Moirthalen, that by the time the sun comes up, I intend to have touched every part of you. Tasted every part of you. I’m going to take you apart. Slowly and thoroughly.” I hold her gaze. “And you’re going to let me.”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “You won’t hurt me?”
“I can’t promise that.”
The color leaches from her cheeks.
“You’ve never had a lover, so there might be some pain.” I don’t soften it. “But I won’t bring you harm.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Pain fades. Harm lingers. I have no interest in damaging you.”
“What if … what if you do something I don’t like?”
“You’re agreeing to my terms, my pace, and my choices, or you’re not. There is no middle ground.”
“Until sunrise,” she whispers.
“Yes.”
“And then I can leave. You swear it?”
“The bargain will make it impossible to refuse.”
She swallows again. “Fine.” The word comes out rough. “I agree.”
The blood bond pulses, as if it knows what I’m planning … as if it approves.
“Bargain struck.” I smile, and snap my fingers.
She flinches at the sound, then her eyes round when a copper bathtub appears in one corner of the room, steam curling off the surface.
“Are you planning to drown me again?”
My smile is slow. “Of all the fantasies I have about you, drowning isn’t in the top ten.”
The flush that spreads down her throat is deeply satisfying.
“I … I thought fae couldn’t create water from nothing.”
“We can’t. I relocated it from the village well.”
She looks at the water, then back at me.
“Get undressed.”
She doesn’t move.
“Alleria.”
Her expression shifts—resignation, maybe, or resolve, and she turns away.
“Stop. Turn back to face me.”
Her lips press together, but she turns, and her hands go to the laces of her tunic.
Her fingers are trembling badly enough that she fumbles with the first one, and has to try twice before it comes loose.
She works her way down with jerky, graceless movements, until the tunic falls open, and she shrugs it off her shoulders.
Underneath, she’s wearing a thin undershirt, and I can see the shape of her through the fabric.
The curve of her breasts, the shadow of her nipples, the way they rise and fall as she breathes.
She hesitates, her fingers fisting in the hem.
“Keep going.”
She pulls the undershirt over her head in one quick motion, then her hands go to her pants, unlacing them with the same hurried movements, pushing them down and stepping out of them. Her undergarments follow, stripped away with a defiance that doesn’t quite hide the way her hands are shaking.
Then she’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing between her skin and my gaze. I can see the way she’s fighting to cover herself, her hands twitching at her sides, her chin lifting.
Defiant even now.
I move closer, circling her, and let my gaze travel over every inch of her exposed skin.
The slope of her shoulders. The line of her collarbone.
Her breasts are tipped with nipples that have hardened in the cool air.
Her waist dips inward, then flares out. Copper streaks in her dark hair catch the firelight.
She’s shaking. A fine tremor that runs through her whole body.
“Get into the tub.”
She glares at me, then walks to the tub, her movements stiff.
She climbs in with her back to me, sinking into the water until it covers her to the shoulders.
A brief sigh escapes her, probably relief at having somewhere to hide.
She draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, making herself as small as possible.
I turn the chair beside the fireplace to face her, then settle back into it.
She watches me from the tub, confusion flickering across her face. She expected me to follow, it’s written across her features. She thought I’d climb in and take what she agreed to give me. Instead, I’m sitting here, ten feet away, watching her.
“Wash yourself.”
“With you watching?”
“You watched me at the stream. Now I’m looking. Wash.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. She reaches for the soap, and starts with her arms, scrubbing quickly.
“Slower, Moirthalen. You’re not scrubbing a floor.”
Her hands pause. Her jaw tightens with an irritation she can’t hide. “I’m not performing for you.”
“Yes, you are. That’s what you agreed to.”