Chapter 36
“Five times.”
— Maddox Finch, A Truth
Maddox Finch sleeps like the dead.
Which, to be fair, is well deserved. We made love three times last night, and if I hadn’t pulled myself away from him this morning, I’ve a feeling we would’ve made it four.
He looked so delicious lying in the bed we shared, the thin quilt draped over his waist, arms sprawled and face tucked into my pillow.
He hasn’t slept properly since we fell into this strange world, so I decided to leave him to his slumber.
Even after a long shower, my body is still feeling the effects of last night. The sun may not be shining, but as I let down the ladder and climb to the ground, today feels more glorious and beautiful than any other.
All going well, the Unseelie will show us the path up the cliff, and we’ll be back in Rosehill by nightfall.
As anxious as I am to return, there’s unease as well. Where does this leave Maddox and me? Choosing each other for a night isn’t the same as choosing each other for life.
Last night, we were too lust-fueled to venture into the specifics of our relationship.
We’ll just have to discuss it on the walk back, won’t we?
The women of the Unseelie village are hard at work, cleaning animal skins, cooking in large iron pots over crackling fires, and weaving fabric for quilts. One of the elderly men sits on a stone with six women watching him as he speaks, enraptured by whatever story he’s telling.
Heads turn as I walk past, their glowers and glares like little nicks against my skin. Cutting but not enough to mortally wound. No one offers me breakfast. Their goodwill faded the moment Maddox insisted I stay with him.
How different last night would have been if he’d told me to sleep somewhere else. If he’d chosen to share a bed with one of the Unseelie instead.
Bile surges up my throat.
Maddox is mine.
I come to a stop next to a small cache of weapons.
Maddox is mine.
I don’t want anyone else, and he’s said time and again that he feels the same.
Last night only proves that, doesn’t it?
Why would we wait until the walk back to discuss any of this when we can figure it out before then? We can figure it out now.
Maddox has been forthright about what he wants; I’m the one holding back for fear of being abandoned.
Maddox isn’t like Nolan or Jonathan or any of the other men I’ve been with.
All that’s left is to make it official.
An Unseelie courtship begins when a gift of sustenance is offered. I need to find us food.
Unfortunately, I don’t see any berry bushes close by, and I know better than to venture past the village for fear of meeting a wolf on my own.
The river. I’ll catch us a fish.
I’ve watched Maddox fish for our meals over the last few days. It didn’t look that difficult. I’m an intelligent woman; surely I’ll be able to figure this out.
My stomach roils at the thought of eating another trout, but it’s clear no one else here is going to offer me sustenance. I need to do this myself.
I grab what looks like a small spear and make my way down the steep bank to the shore.
The water moves swiftly over the stones, but there are a few eddies behind the larger rocks where I might be able to find purchase.
After tying the skirt I was given yesterday between my knees, I wade into the frigid water, doing my best not to slip on the algae-covered rocks lining the riverbed. My knowledge of fish might be limited, but if I were one of them, this is the spot I would choose to hide.
Hopefully, this won’t take long.
I have an Unseelie to feed.
I hate fishing. Not only is it boring, but also catching one is nearly impossible.
From this angle, the fish are the exact same color as the bloody stones. By the time I see one and adjust my hold on the spear, the damn thing has darted off.
At this rate, I’ll be here all day. Maddox is going to wake up starving, and he’ll have a whole horde of women offering him food that’s been cooked and prepared, and I can’t even find a fish.
If only we were in Rosehill. I could bake him a giant pie.
But we’re not in Rosehill. Not yet.
If I don’t catch something soon, we might not have time to make the trek today. Another night wouldn’t be so bad; the mattress was comfortable enough, and sleeping with Maddox wrapped around me is heaven. But every moment we’re here is one more moment he might change his mind.
Look at all his options. Why would any man want to settle with just one woman when he could literally have a whole harem?
Something moves beneath the water, right by my feet.
I jab the spear into the river and—
Empty.
Bollocks.
Every curse word I know climbs my throat. Maybe I should’ve grabbed one of the nets instead. Too late now. I’m here and I’m ready to kill something. Perhaps I’ll see Raven and use her for target practice.
The thought has me chuckling.
Looks like I have a new nemesis.
Two Unseelie walk toward the river, spears in hand. If they come in, they’re liable to scare away the fish or steal them all before I even have a chance.
I want Maddox to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m choosing him. That his customs are important to me and I want to keep them.
Something white flashes by my left ankle.
Here goes nothing.
I stab at the streak, and when I lift the spear, a fish wriggles on the end. It’s only the size of my palm but I don’t even care, and I don’t feel nearly as bad about killing the thing as I probably should because I did it!
I cannot contain my smile as I carefully pick my way between slick stones back to shore, past the two Unseelie gawking at me and my fish, heading straight for the dwelling we shared.
Climbing the ladder with one hand is tricky, but somehow, I manage, and when I finally step into the entryway, Maddox is sitting up on the edge of the bed, his hair a complete disaster and his brow furrowed as he glances around.
I’ve never seen him look so adorable or so appealing.
His gaze snaps to mine and then falls to the fish still flailing on the spear. I might not know how to cut out its guts or remove its bones, but it’s a gift of sustenance all the same.
I thrust the spear toward him. “I come bearing gifts.”
A slow smile unfurls across lips I spent most of the night memorizing. “Careful, Nia Quill. It is inadvisable to offer an unmated Unseelie male a gift of sustenance. He is likely to get the wrong idea.”
Why is he back to using my surname? Is he having second thoughts?
No.
I refuse to let my mind play tricks on me. Unless Maddox says he’s having second thoughts, I’ll assume the best. “I know exactly what it means.”
The smile slips from his face. “You killed a fish for me?”
“It’s still wriggling around so I’m not sure it’s actually dead—"
He catches my waist, pulls me, the spear, and the dying fish toward him, and slams his lips onto mine. The spear and fish clatter to the ground, which probably isn’t ideal, but I’m too busy being consumed by this beautiful, ridiculous man to care.
“I believe you’re meant to give me something if you accept my courtship,” I murmur against his lips.
This makes him frown, as I knew it would.
“I have nothing,” he says.
I run my hand along the hard ridge at the front of his trousers. “Really? I can think of something.”
“My Nia is an insatiable female.”
My Nia.
Here I didn’t think I could fall any harder.
It appears I was wrong.
Leaving the haven of our small dwelling with Maddox is infinitely worse than it was when I crawled out this morning. Unlike a few hours ago, everyone is watching us.
Well, not us. Him. Not that I blame them. I can’t take my eyes off the man either. After we made love a fourth time, he cooked the tiny fish, insisted on giving me half, and then dragged me into the shower for a fifth.
If anyone is insatiable, it’s Maddox.
The women’s smiles turn to glowers as their gazes fall to where he clutches my hand. Murmurs and whispers follow in our wake like a heavy shadow.
His expression slowly darkens until he’s scowling back. It’s strange to see him doing anything but smiling. Whatever is being said must be terrible to warrant such a fearsome look from the most jovial man I’ve ever met.
My curiosity eventually wins out, and I squeeze his elbow, bringing him to a halt in front of a small tent. He inclines his head toward me, the gray light shining off the black earrings that climb his earlobes.
“What are they saying?” I whisper.
His jaw works, the muscles pulsing. “They are wondering why you do not bear my mark.”
That’s right. The Unseelie bite each other to mark someone as their mate. How could I have forgotten that from our first unofficial date in the café? “Why didn’t you bite me?”
His frown deepens as he glances away, toward the water. “What is that?”
Wonderful. He’s changing the subject. Does he not want to bite me?
Stop that. Don’t let the bad thoughts win.
We can discuss mating scars on our way home.
I look to see what distraction caught his eye, expecting to find nothing there, only to come across an Unseelie child wearing what appears to be . . .
Heavens, it looks like a Seelie guard’s helmet.
Maddox’s hand slips from mine as he stalks toward the child playing with two others. When she sees him, her tiny mouth pops open in awe. Smiling, he kneels in the dirt to speak with her in the Unseelie language.
The little girl responds in a whispery voice, casting uneasy looks my direction. Who can blame her? She’s probably never seen a Seelie fae before.
He comes back, his expression grim as he scans the women, who’ve mostly returned to their duties. A few still watch us, but their faces aren’t as friendly as they were when we first arrived.
“Well? Where did she get the helmet?”
He braces his hands on his hips. “It would seem our hosts are the ones who killed the Seelie architects working on the new bridge.”
Maddox fires off a bunch of words toward the women, his voice deeper than I’ve ever heard it before, anger vibrating off him, compounding my own. What possible reason would these people who live at the bottom of the canyon have to climb all the way to the top just to murder innocent fae?
As far as I know, none of the other Seelie in Rosehill even realize there are fae living down here. Why intentionally provoke and murder a peaceful people? Even when the Unseelie were only allowed to cross the bridge on Wednesdays, we never had such violence.
These women aren’t friendly.
They’re enemies masquerading as friends.
Raven’s face appears in the crowd, and the women part as she walks through, coming to a stop where Maddox holds the helmet.
The irritating woman still hasn’t found a bloody shirt. If we were planning on staying here for any length of time, I’d knit her one.
Her gaze drops, and her lips press flat. They exchange a few words, then she jerks her head to the right. Maddox takes my hand, and we follow her to one of the larger houses.
Raven shouts, and a woman I’ve never seen before emerges, draped in colorful fabric that looks suspiciously like Seelie silk. How did she get it? Did she kill someone for her dress as well?
She descends the ladder, smiling at Maddox like he’s her next meal.
He asks something in Unseelie. The woman’s smile curves higher.
Someone grabs my arms, yanks me back, and presses a dagger to my throat.
Bloody Raven.
I knew we couldn’t trust her.
A violent storm descends over Maddox’s features, his hand flying to his dagger even as Raven drags me back toward the waiting crowd.
The woman speaks three words, and Maddox’s shoulders stiffen.
His hand slowly falls to the side, and he makes no move to keep them from stealing me away, through the fae spewing words I do not understand, though their meaning is clear.
Their hatred for me lives on their scowling faces, manifests in tight fists.
They killed the architects, and now they’re going to kill me.
Raven brings me to a small hole cut into the lower cliff wall, where four Unseelie women stand guard, swords in their fists and rage in their dark eyes.
She drops the dagger biting into my throat and shoves me through the gap in the stones.
I stumble in the darkness, dampness filling my lungs as my eyes slowly adjust.
The sound of shifting emerges from the far corner.
Someone—or something else is in here with me.
I dare to venture closer.
Four Seelie men huddle in the corner, one of whom wears black leather with a fiery rose emblazoned on the chest.
The missing Seelie aren’t dead. They’re being held captive in this Unseelie village.
“Nia?”
My head whips to a fifth man on the right, sitting with an arm slung across his ribs and his face speckled in blood.
It can’t be . . . “Nolan?”