Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
C onstin walked at my back, the remainder of my guard effectively invisible in the crowd.
I stopped a safe distance away. Safe for me, not for her. I could close those paltry few feet in a second and take her off the streets. But that second would remind me of my duty.
She was mine. I would have her. But with the claiming of that right also came responsibility, and before I brought her publicly into my world, I would have to ensure she was protected, and prepared.
Which meant exerting patience. For now.
“You dance like the wind,” I said, reminding myself to be gentle. This wasn't her fault, though she would suffer the consequences of it, whether it was her fault or not. We both would.
The human slowed her movements, turned her head with obvious reluctance to meet my gaze.
My eyes traced the sweet fullness of her lips, the curve of her cheek. Her lashes fluttered as she looked down, then forced herself to raise her chin and square her shoulders.
I gave her my sweetest smile, the one that had softened many of my mother’s more dangerous moods, tilting my head to look at her under my lashes. Some instinct told her I was dangerous, but she refused to show weakness.
That was good. I would kill anything that hurt her, but she would still require some spine to survive at Court.
But I didn’t want her to know I was dangerous, not yet.
“I'm a bit heavier than wind,” she said, words slow and soft.
The hesitance was not shyness—no, I recognized calculation. Canny intelligence slid behind her gaze as she glanced between myself and Constin.
“I can’t lie to you,” I said. More than one meaning in the statement, but let her make of it what she would.
She shrugged a single shoulder, the movement stiff. “I train very hard to make it look easy.”
“Where do you study?” I unleashed a tendril of persuasion, just enough to urge her to answer my question.
“I'm not a student here,” she said. “I'm in the city to audition for the High Lord's company.”
“An honorable endeavor. I'm certain you'll have your pick of patrons among the Houses who support human artists.”
“I work to be worthy of it.”
Her quiet dignity softened some of my anger at this twist of fate. If I must claim a human bonded, I could have been given far, far worse than a soft-spoken female with enough self-possession to hold her own among Fae. To be here she must also claim her share of strength and ambition, qualities she’d require in abundance.
“And your name, little mortal?” This time, when I reached out for her mind, it was deliberate.
. . .such a supposedly innocent question. His eyes are patient, but that feels like a polite facade. What does he want with me? Classically sculpted features—too bad he's not a dancer. Beauty doesn't mean goodness, though. Dark hair, stern mouth—why do I feel so at ease? I know better. Too much authority. Too much strength. There's no way he's human. Why is he staring? —
The pulse fluttering in her throat increased. I forced myself to look away and retreat from her mind, saliva flooding my mouth as if my body was preparing itself for a feast.
Because it was, and I wasn’t inclined to deny it any longer.
She staggered back a step and I closed the distance, my hands around her upper arms to hold her steady. She looked up at me, striking a blow with luminous dark eyes.
“Hasannah,” she said after a long pause. She lifted her hands as if to push me away, then lowered them slowly, her posture going pliant.
I understood the silent plea. Reluctant, I released her, for now, and stepped back. Her breathing slowed—a touch.
“An almost Fae name. Lovely.”
She moved away to dance. A few Fae paused to watch her, and I stiffened.
Males.
I wouldn't tolerate them near her, looking at her. They would show proper respect or they would die, and though I was considered one of the more mild tempered among my family, I looked forward to causing another creature pain.
Constin shifted, placing a restraining hand on my shoulder and pitched his voice low.
“Easy, luudthen. Take a breath. If you shed blood here, you'll announce her existence in the worst way possible. She's safe. I would give my life before she came to any harm.”
Fae were not possessive with anyone but their bonded mates, and the anger rushing up through me now was nothing but possessiveness.
On the heels of my Housesworn’s promise, calm reasserted itself. He’d always had a beguiling voice, and I didn't fight it.
But I turned my head and pinned a male who had stepped too close to Hasannah with my gaze. Curled my upper lip and allowed my power to rise enough for threat. He jerked, bowed his head, and hurried away.
It was late when my mortal finished, bending to lift the bag in which coins and banknotes rested.
My mother and sister had made support of dancers and artists part of the fashion among the High Fae in Casakraine, but anything Hasannah needed or desired would come from my hand going forward.
The consort of the city Heir would not dance for food and shelter—for anyone but me. There would be no patron other than me.
“It's late,” I said as she shouldered her bag and gave me a sidelong look. “You shouldn’t be out unescorted at this time of night.”
She widened her eyes at me, a flash of amused dismissal across her features. “I don't have much choice. Anyway. . .goodbye.”
Goodbye? Oh, you foolish mortal girl. You should know better than to issue challenge.
I exerted a brief flash of will, halting her, and stepped close enough to lower my mouth to her ear, but not close enough to touch her again without permission. She was human—permission would take no more than a whispered request.
“Allow me to escort you home,” I murmured, listening to the increase in the flow of her blood, the thrumming pace of her heart as she tensed, her breath hitching. “You’ve caught my interest, little mortal.”
I inhaled her scent and locked my jaw against the clench, the dizziness, of desire. And desire was a weak word.
“I want you. Take me to your bed and before I have my fill, you’ll scream my name on my tongue, my fingers, and only then on my cock. I won’t allow you to sleep until you break from pleasure. Then in the morning I’ll break you again.”
My dancer froze, staring up at me with wide, startled eyes beginning to glaze with confused lust.
I smiled, lifting my hand in anticipation of her acquiescence, when she shook her head and jerked away.
“ No. ”
. . .what.
I stilled. Lowered my hand. “I beg your pardon?” I was certain I still spoke English fluently.
She shook her head again, taking another step back and a deep breath as if to force my scent out of her lungs.
Really.
Indignation faded under a sharp pang of concern. She wasn’t. . .addled, was she? The Dark wouldn’t fate me a dimwitted bonded. There was no other explanation for refusing me.
The desire in her eyes faded and was replaced by weary, pain limned cynicism before she suppressed that too, pulling out a polite expression.
She cleared her throat. “I’m. . .appreciative of the offer, but no, thank you. Good night.”
With a last wide-eyed look, she darted away.
She ran from me.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
I made to follow, but Constin growled. “Andreien. She said no.” His expression sharpened. “Leash it, luudthen. You wanted to be different from the others. You wanted a lover’s no to mean something.”
. . .yes. Yes. I. . .didn’t want to be one of the reasons the weak and vulnerable were warned to offer submission to a High Lord if wanting to survive. I knew what the Low Fae said about us. They called us monsters—but they were right.
Then Constin howled. “A mortal told you no ! By the Dark, I wish I had a memory gem.” He sobered as I continued to stare after her, stunned. “You’ll have to actually exert yourself.” He took one look at my face and convulsed. “Dismissed by a mortal!”
Surprise faded as interest sharpened.
I’d let her go for now. If a hunt was what she wanted then I’d give her one, by the Dark.
I glanced briefly at Constin, annoyed but more settled. “Pull yourself together, warrior. We follow.”
We remained in the shadows as she waited at a public stop. Once she boarded the triple decker conveyance we followed in our private coach. The decker pulled away in a puff of magic laced steam, traveling south.
“This situation continues to improve,” Constin muttered. “Of course she's in the Coal District. The least defensible portion of the city.”
It was as close to a slum as we allowed in Casakraine. Where we shoved Houseless humans and our own troublesome people until they inevitably caused offense and were either killed or deported. The Lord who oversaw the District was, perhaps, not as rigorous in executing his duty as I wished. No matter, Hasannah wouldn't be living there much longer.
I dug my fingers into my tensed thigh. “No, you're right. This will not stand.”
Constin glanced at me, gaze keen. He’d finally stopped giggling like a faeling.
“May I offer counsel?” he asked in his smooth Court baritone.
“. . .carefully.”
“Forget you're a High Lord. She must have only recently come through the realm gate. She won't understand your right to her, and I assume you want her to like you.”
I stilled my fingers, forcing the hand to relax. “I hadn't planned on coercing her. That particular sport never interested me. But if I must make concessions, so will she. I won't jeopardize her safety for the sake of fragile mortal feelings.”
He sighed. “I hope the girl's at least a quarterling. Lord Issahelle is going to throw a fit. Halfling babes are always a mixed bag.” He grimaced. “Sahakian halflings. She’s really going to throw a fit if they’re born powerless.”
Yes. My mother might be a problem. Unfortunately, she would probably be the least of them.
“You do know, my Lord, that when it becomes known you've begun a bond, the Court will challenge you.” Constin's quiet warning both chilled and inflamed the heat running through my blood. “They'll consider it a rite of passage, and your response either a demonstration of your fitness to remain Heir or a revelation of weakness. The humans have a word for it. Hazing.”
Which meant it was time to rally my forces both internal and external, and prepare for battle.
Be careful what you ask the Dark for.
It never responds the way you intend.