Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Ifollowed him into my servants’ quarters.
He frowned at the junk surrounding us, then his heated, golden gaze locked on mine.
He came toward me and then leaned past me to close the door.
I refused to move, despite my natural impulse to back away from giant, angry Fae men, so I was once again eye-level with his broad chest, breathing in his scent of soap and spice, as he pushed the door so it swung shut behind me.
He didn’t back away. I looked up at him, crossing my arms to create a little distance, even though I refused to back away. Those damned molten gold eyes met mine.
“Fine,” he said.
“Fine?” I repeated. I’d almost lost track of our original conversation as I tried to fight both my sense of intimidation and the damned attraction to him that always lurked under the surface of my skin.
Right. I’d demanded to see Tay. My lapse in memory made me feel flustered, which always made me mean—or at least honest. “Really? You dragged me off so everyone would think you were scary before you could agree to what I asked? Your clan is probably out there thinking I’m being murdered—or fucked—I’m not entirely sure which is worse—”
“You don’t make it easy to say yes to you, do you?” He cut in. His eyes roamed over me, a furrow dimpling the skin between his dark brows. “Get out of my tunic, for gods’ sake. We can go as soon as you’re ready.”
I touched the neck of my tunic. Neither of us had backed away, and it suddenly occurred to me that if he were irritated with me now, it might be because there was another, deeper emotion he didn’t want to admit.
Was Fieran affected, seeing me wear his clothes?
“I’m so sorry,” I told him, almost managing to approach sincerity, which made his brows arch. Then I pulled the tunic over my head, and his eyes widened. His surprise tilted over into a split-second of other emotions flashing over his face before he was back to stoic. “You do need this back.”
I bundled the tunic up and pushed it into his hands. “There you are.”
I was keenly aware of the cool air pebbling my nipples, of how it felt to be wearing nothing but my underwear in front of him.
And I was keenly aware of the heat that flashed in his gaze, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
“Are all mortals insane like you?” He was the one who took a step back, averting his gaze as if he were fascinated by the floor, but there was no hiding the enormous bulge pressing his trousers. Satisfaction pulsed through me; I’d won one brief victory.
“No. You’re the one who drove me insane, Fieran.” I turned my back on him, going to get a clean set of clothes. I could feel heat as his gaze must have risen from the floor. I could feel him study my back.
I hid my smile of satisfaction as I pulled my fresh clothes on, still ignoring him.
No one would’ve believed that I, a mere mortal, had any power over this god of a man.
But I knew it now, and I would seize any shred of power.
I glanced in the mirror, where I could see his face. “Give me two minutes to fix my hair. You can go. I’ll meet you outside.”
He scoffed. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate my order, and just as I expected, he stayed instead. He wandered around the room, studying it, while I quickly brushed my hair.
My hands felt more clumsy than usual, because I couldn’t help watching him as he frowned at the various crates and other miscellany scattered around the room. Would he discover the bracelet? Or—less damning, but more humiliating—the reserve of food I’d kept stashed in the room?
But my wooden fingers hardly mattered, because my hair was smooth, shiny and soft this morning; the usual clump of knots hadn’t formed at the base of my scalp despite a night’s tossing and turning.
Once I was dressed, Fieran and I headed into the city Other shifters glanced at us as we crossed the foyer—the mist from the waterfall cool on my face as we passed it—and it seemed as if everyone were watching me, curious why I was at Fieran’s side.
I was curious about that too.
“Where’s Maura now?” It was probably a mistake to ask under the circumstances, since I didn’t want him to question further what information Maura had tried to beat out of me.
He looked completely unruffled by the question. We walked under the enormous arched doors, open to the city streets below, which dwarfed even him.
A few shifters were hurrying up the marble stairs, and one of them saw him, then me, and almost tripped in their surprise. I smiled at them.
“You don’t have to worry she’ll hurt you again,” Fieran promised me.
“She hit me after you told her to hit me,” I reminded him. “I’m not scared of her.”
He frowned. “You’re not scared of me.”
“You’re right.” I examined my fingernails.
They were short, but even so, I’d broken one yesterday fighting Maura, or more accurately, scrambling desperately away from Maura.
The broken nail, running down the side of my nailbed, throbbed every time I accidentally touched it to something.
It was the only injury I still carried from yesterday.
Perhaps it had been missed; maybe only mortals could be punished so brutally by hangnails and papercuts.
“I’m only scared you won’t keep your promises. In part, because I don’t know why you brought me here.”
He had gone a few steps ahead of me, and now he turned in exasperation. Even down a few steps, he was taller than me. “I already explained to you that the curse would’ve killed you.”
“Even if that were true, why would you care?” The curse couldn’t be real, since I had been untroubled by the passing of my birthday. Unless I was cursed to draw the attention of maddening men.
He glanced around as if he wanted to make sure we weren’t heard. This time, there was no room to hide in while he pretended to bully me. “Is it that strange to think I would care about your well-being?”
“Yes,” I said dryly.
He frowned at me. “Cara.”
He said my name in a way I hadn’t heard before, irritated and stern and maybe a little fond too, and that must be another lie. My body was apparently rejecting my mind’s fervent warnings, because strange warmth slid down my spine. Gods.
He was hard to despise completely.
Until I remembered Tay and Lidi.
And this place, this man, gods damn them both, distracted me from planning for them as I should.
“Fine,” I said harshly, jogging past him. “Keep lying to me. I’ll figure out why eventually.”
He caught up to me in a stride, which made a mockery of my angry march.
He let out a breath as if he were confessing.
“The queen wants to control the dragon shifters, and part of that plot means keeping our numbers low, by sending us to our deaths against the monsters, and by having us fight in the Trials.”
His words made my stomach drop, as if I were a child hearing once again that wish-flowers and solstice-gifts were lies.
“Imagine if mortals could be shifters too.” Passion lifted his tone, though I was sure he was deliberately letting me see it. “There could be so many of us. Enough to change the tide of power. Enough to free low Fae, high Fae, shifters and mortals alike.”
“How? How could mortals be shifters?” I glanced at his face and caught the briefest flash of guilt. “Do you know?”
He shrugged. Clearly, he was not going to tell me.
“You fucking asshole.”
“The insults don’t have much bite. I could’ve brought you here to grant all your wishes, to make it so you could restore your sister’s magic and save your brother, and you’d still call me a fucking asshole.”
I scoffed. It felt as if he were pressing on bruises he’d given me when he rattled off those dreams of mine so lightly.
“Would you follow my plans?” He regarded me curiously. “In the cold daylight, I have to wonder…would you follow me? If I could make those dreams come true. Tay restored to health and Lidi restored to her magic.”
“Of course.” What a stupid hypothetical.
His lips tugged in a ghost of a smile, as if that were an admission that meant something to him.
“We should fly,” Fieran told me as we reached the street. From here, the shop-lined street flowed downhill to either side of us. In the distance, a castle rose from the mist that crowded the shores of the lake, looking as if it were something half-remembered in a dream.
“Can we walk?”
“It’s close, but you won’t like walking.”
“Why?” My first instinct was always to argue with him, but he was the one who knew this world. I wasn’t going to argue with him if it was going to make my life harder.
“There will be curiosity about you.” His sideways glance was knowing and amused and would have made me instantly irritated if I hadn’t been already. “You don’t seem like you’ll handle attention well.”
My jaw tensed at the accusation, since it was entirely accurate, and then at the logistics of flying. “I don’t want to touch you. I don’t want you touching me. I would rather walk.”
He rolled his shoulders as if he were shaking off my hostility. “Then let’s walk.”
As we went down the street, there were curious looks. A few kids who had been playing began to trail us. Two of them had tails that lashed behind them, one curling ram’s horns, but the way they jostled each other and grinned when Fieran looked their way was no different from boys in our village.
“I wouldn’t get this attention without you, would I?”
“People would assume you’re a servant here, just like within those walls.” He glanced back at the castle we’d left.
“So I could disguise myself.”
He gave me a warning look. “Don’t come out here alone.”
“Why?”
The look intensified to a blistering level.
“I’m not arguing with you. I’m asking you. I never went beyond the mountains, and I’d like to understand this world you’ve dragged me into.”
He bowed his head as if he were acquiescing. “Mortals hold no power here. Their safety comes from being seen as possessions. Those who know I value you won’t harm you. But if someone sees you and thinks they can get away with taking you…”