After another twodays of being cooped up in the bedroom, I’m going stir crazy. Even Grayson glances at the fake windows as if he’d rather be outside. On the morning of my sixth day in captivity, still two days before I will see Baelen, I bail Grayson up outside the bathroom. Despite his decision not to take his eyes off me, he hasn’t given up his own privacy while he showers. He makes up for it by tugging on my body constantly while he’s in there, promising me that if I fight it, he will come straight out no matter how undressed he is.
He jolts to find me right outside, but I plow right in with my request. “You have to let me go outside.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to see the sun.”
“Why?”
Ooh, he’s infuriating.I really want to find out where the prison is, but I’m not lying: I need fresh air. Desperately. I try to remain patient. “Because I’ve been breathing the same air for six days now.”
He laughs and tugs my braid over my shoulder. His fingers linger on my shoulder. “You’re so pretty when you’re all riled up.”
I scowl at him, standing my ground. Every morning when he gets up, he puts his pillow and blanket back on the bed, and every night he leans across me to get them—even though he could easily walk around to the other side. Each time he drops a kiss on my cheek and each time, it’s closer to my mouth. Last night it was on the corner of my lips.
He smirks. “Fine. After breakfast. There’s something I want to show you anyway.”
It’s still two days until the ‘celebration of my capture’ and Grayson seems remarkably relaxed today. I plow through my meal and wait at the door while he finishes his breakfast. He takes his time, deliberately making me wait for him. Finally, he pushes his chair back.
The door opens without him moving from his seat, but he’s not far behind me as I lean into the hallway outside.
He says, “Follow me.”
We pass a number of rooms, many of them large, all of them opulent, until we finally leave the building through the back door, heading down a path through immaculate gardens. I veer to the right in the direction of the other buildings. I need to get a look at them to figure out which is the prison.
“Not that way,” Grayson says, to my disappointment, pointing to a copse of trees at the end of the path. “This way.”
The pathway ends, turning into a rough leaf-strewn track. The forest is dark and dank compared to the open garden, but he strides right into it. I pause. It’s one thing to stay with him in a brightly lit room. It’s another to follow him into a dark forest.
I say, “I thought we could walk around the garden.” So far I’ve seen nothing that tells me where the prison might be.
“You thought wrong.” He’s far enough inside the shadowed woods that his body is a mere silhouette. He tugs on me with his power, making me take a step before I harness my own power to stop him.
He sighs. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to show you something.”
Said the psycho to his prey.
“Fine, but just because I can’t hurt you personally, doesn’t mean I can’t burn this forest to the ground if I need to,” I warn him.
“Noted.”
I catch up to him and there’s just enough room to walk side by side along the track. I point out: “You know you’re walking in the dark.”
“So?”
“That’s a gargoyle trait. Your eyesight is primed for moonlit nights. Elves need lamps.”
It’s his turn to be exasperated. “You don’t give up, do you?”
I allow myself to smile. “How many gargoyles have you actually met?”
“Uh.” He must not realize I can see as well as he can in the dark because he doesn’t hide his expression. He looks uncomfortable. “Just the ones on the cliff the other day, and many from a distance, but I’ve seen plenty of drawings.”
I scoff. “Oh, you’ve seen drawings. The ones the Elven Command commissioned? Well, then, I guess you’ve met lots of gargoyles. Were you surprised to discover the females don’t look like hideous beasts?”
He shuffles again. “A little.”
I say, bluntly, “Female gargoyles are more beautiful than female elves. But not just on the outside. They have truly beautiful souls. It’s why the males are so protective of their families. They would die for them.”
