Chapter 34 #2
“Yeah, the Fates tossed us a bone,” he replies bitterly.
“Core are dying left and right because the Plagues are getting worse, and we’re using our magic more than ever before.
But latching on to someone can save us, and fiend blood could possibly prevent the Plagues.
So yes. I’ve taken people. To help everyone.
You keep trying to make me into the villain so you can continue to hate me, but I’m doing everything I can to save our entire fucking world. ”
My thoughts slosh in frigid waves, like a shock of ice caught within my spinning skull. I feel my shoulders sag, and my hand comes up to press against an ache in my chest.
“Is that why you really stole the fae?” I ask quietly, another piece falling into place. “People like Theo—you thought they were Latches for other Core?”
“Who’s Theo?”
“He’s—” I shake my head as I drop my hand and meet his eye. “It doesn’t matter. Is that why?”
He nods slowly, watching my expression. “Yes.”
“How do you know who to take? Is it random?”
“Every fae who has ever become a Latch has a sounding—a certain noise that comes from them that I can pick up on when I’m using my magic. I search for people in the crowds who have it. They’re not always a Latch, but they are a possibility.”
I hesitate. “And me?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve listened. Many times. You have no Latch sounding—only the sounding of a fiend, which isn’t the same. That’s why I kept dismissing the thought that you could be my Latch. But you undoubtedly are. I saw it. Felt it.” He pauses. “Tasted it.”
The complicated rush of thoughts and emotions overwhelms me. Surrounds me. My arm heats beneath the bandage.
“I don’t want to be your Latch,” I say thickly, just as tears sting the backs of my eyes. For the second time today, he’s broken me down enough to make me want to cry, and I hate being so exposed.
A flash of distress flickers over his face, and he shifts on his feet, making the plate of desiccated dirt split beneath his weight. “Estinya . . .”
His hand lifts toward me, but he jerks it back down to his side again like he doesn’t know what to do.
“I know I’ve butchered this. I know that, but . . .” He lets out a breath like he’s frustrated with the very air. “As my Latch, your life force is now connected to mine, which means you’ll age slowly. You’ll also be stronger. And I will forever protect and care for you. That, I can promise.”
“Care for me. Right,” I say with sodden cynicism.
His face tightens, and I can tell I’ve offended him. “Is that so hard to believe? Before I even knew you, I saw you chained up and bleeding, so I ordered Frid to get you down. Excuse me for taking you out of the very place where you were whipped to near death. I refuse to apologize for it.”
His harsh words cut away my breath, snipping it off with a sharp blade. He may not have had control over this, but it’s just another thing that’s been forced on me. First, I was stolen by him, and now I’m tied to him.
And I have no choice about any of it.
“I hate you,” I whisper, just as the first tear falls down my cheek.
“No, you don’t,” he grinds out. “You want to, but you can’t. You’re drawn to me.”
My throat goes dry. “I’m not.”
This time when his hand comes up, he doesn’t force it back down. He takes hold of my chin and pulls my face up to meet his. “You are. We wouldn’t have latched otherwise.”
My exhale goes shallow. “What?”
“Nobody’s magic latches unless there’s an attraction first. And we both know there was, despite your denial.”
I pull out of his hold, though my entire body trembles. “I’m not attracted to you,” I reply, but my voice is too quiet. Too wobbly.
And I know what he hears.
The lie.
He glares at me with such intensity that my knees weaken.
“You are. Just as I am to you—since the moment I saw you. We’ve both tried to argue and ignore it, but there’s no disavowing it now.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as if I can close him out. Keep him away.
But he’s already everywhere.
In my head. Under my skin.
And I hate myself for it.
My family, if they’re alive, must be worried sick, and I’m here, with these twisted feelings for the very man who took me from them.
His hand comes up again, and he skates his thumb over my cheek with a tenderness that shocks me. My eyes fling open as my stomach dips and leaps, spinning through a dance I don’t know the steps for.
I want to run. I want to melt. I want things I can’t even admit.
“I knew there was something about you. I should’ve realized.
You have no sounding, but . . .” The whisper of touch makes my heart pound so hard I fear it’ll crack through my chest. “You smell so damn sweet.” His hand moves down to my arm and traces over the bandage in a single soft stroke. “And you taste even sweeter.”
Fates, the way he says that.
My traitorous hands try to extend, like they want to reach out and grab him. Instead, I clasp them together and squeeze them into stillness.
The latching, the magic, whatever it is, it’s mixing up my emotions and drowning my focus.
But I can’t let it.
My fingers tense and curl, as if I can somehow grow claws to rip this latch right out. I don’t want to be connected like this. Not with a Core fae. Not with him.
“No one will ever dare to touch you again,” he tells me, as if that’s enough to set me at ease. “Like I said, I’ll keep you protected. In return, all this means is that you’ll be tied to me.”
“Tied to you,” I repeat numbly, eyes drifting up to his wickedly beautiful face. “Which means what, exactly?”
“Only that my magic will need you near.”
I stiffen. “For how long?”
He hesitates. My chest tightens.
“Indefinitely.”
I stagger back a step, and his touch falls away from my arm. I watch him, waiting for him to say he’s only joking, but his expression is deadly serious. Fear pits into my gut, and I shake my head in adamant denial. “No.”
He almost looks remorseful for a moment. “Yes. I’m not trying to be cruel, but whether you like it or not, the latch won’t let you leave.”
My heart pounds. “You’re lying.”
He has to be. The Fates couldn’t possibly hate me this much.
“I’m not,” he says. “If you try to leave, you’ll want nothing more than to get back to me.”
“I would never want to get back to you,” I spew with defensiveness.
Something shutters in his eyes. Something that makes my throat cinch.
But angry determination knots to my ribs, and I refuse to release it. I level him with a hard look. “I won’t be kept.”
He laughs without humor, his eyes so cold now that it fills me with chill. “Look around, blight. You already are.”