Her mouth went dry. "I—"
"Careful." The word came from directly beside her ear, making her flinch. When had he gotten so close? "Think very carefully about your next words. Lies have consequences, as you've learned."
She could feel the cold radiating from him, could sense his presence inches away, but the darkness made everything uncertain. Was he sitting on the bed? Standing beside it? The not knowing made her heart race faster.
"Today," she admitted quietly. "I found it today."
"Found it." He drew out the words, tasting them. "How convenient. Things just appear in your room now? Spontaneously manifest?"
The beads clicked again. He was definitely playing with them, running them through his fingers like worry stones. The casual handling of something so precious to her made her chest tight.
"Someone must have—"
"Someone." His voice hardened. "Would you like to guess who?"
She pressed her lips together, refusing to answer. She wouldn't give him Seraphin's name. Wouldn't be the one to condemn her.
"No guesses? How disappointing." He moved again, the sound coming from near her desk. "Let me help. Someone who has access to your room. Someone who knew where your pitiful belongings were stored. Someone foolish enough to think they could defy me."
A match flared to life, the sudden light making her eyes water. He sat in the chair by her desk, the bracelet dangling from his fingers. The flame threw shadows across his face, making his beautiful features look sharp and dangerous.
"Someone," he continued, lighting a single candle, "who confused your misplaced kindness for friendship."
"Don't hurt her." The plea escaped before she could stop it.
His smile was winter moonlight on frozen water. "Her? I haven't mentioned anyone specific."
The bracelet swung gently from his fingers, cheap beads catching the candlelight. Such a small thing to destroy so much.
"Shall we discuss the price of theft in my domain?" he asked. "Or would you prefer to skip directly to consequences?"
"It wasn't theft. It was already mine—"
"Nothing is yours." The temperature dropped further, frost creeping across the window. "Your clothes. Your room. Your body. Your heartbeat. All mine. And someone gave you something without my permission."
He stood, tucking the bracelet into his pocket with deliberate care. With a lazy gesture toward the door, it swung open on silent hinges. Thaine filled the doorway, one massive hand gripping Seraphin's shoulder. The fae looked even smaller beside him, her bark-touched skin pale as birch in the candlelight.
"As requested, my lord." Thaine's scarred face revealed nothing.
"Bring her forward."
Thaine guided Seraphin forward with a hand on her shoulder, tightening when she stumbled, the fae's legs barely seemed able to support her. When she saw Briar sitting on the bed, her face crumpled.
"I'm sorry," Seraphin whispered. "I'm so sorry, I just thought—"
"You thought." Eliam circled them slowly, each step measured. The temperature continued to drop, their breath forming clouds in the frigid air. "How fascinating. Tell me, little fae, what exactly were you thinking when you stole from my personal storage?"
Seraphin's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Her whole body shook, whether from cold or fear, Briar couldn't tell.
"She was trying to help me," Briar said. The words scraped past the knot in her throat. "It's my fault."
"Your fault?" Eliam paused his circling, fixing her with those green-gold eyes. "Did you ask her to retrieve your worthless trinket?"
"No, but—"
"Did you suggest it? Hint at it? Manipulate her sympathy?"
"No." The word came out hollow. Because she hadn't needed to, had she? Seraphin had seen her distress and had acted out of kindness. Now she would suffer as a result.
