“No.”
“I will go crazy in here.”
“Probably.” He shrugs. “You humans are all so fragile.”
My fingers clench, nails digging into my palm. I want to hit him. I want to claw that dismissive look off his face.
“You walked past eighty cages. You saw the hollow eyes, the broken spines. And you went home and put on your prettiest clothes.” His fingers tap the arm of the chair. “Did you wonder what it felt like, being locked in a space too small to move, day after day, year after year? Or did you just not care?”
“I didn’t know?—”
“You didn’twantto know.” He’s on his feet and coming toward me. “It was easier not to think about it.”
“That’s not?—”
“Isn’t it?” He’s right in front of me now, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. His hand comes up and I flinch, but he just touches my jaw lightly. “Did you think about what it would feel like? The arrow going in? The momentwhen I realized I was going to die for your entertainment?”
His fingers are cool against my skin, his thumb tracing along my jawline. I should pull away, slap his hand off me, but I can’t move.
“I thought about it. Every day in that cage, I thought about what would happen when someone finally came to hunt me instead of fuck me. Whether it would be quick or slow. If they’d make me run first and give me hope before they took it away.”
“I didn’t—” My voice comes out strangled. “I wouldn’t have?—"
“You would have.” His hand slides down, fingers curling around my throat. My pulse hammers against his palm. “You would have put an arrow through my heart, and you would have smiled while you did it. Then you’d have gone home and everyone would have toasted your skill and your bravery.”
He’s wrong. Hehasto be wrong. But I remember the excitement I felt, the thrill of the hunt.
“But here’s the more interesting part,Moirthalen. You walked past Vel. She spat at you, and a guard beat her for it. Beat her until she couldn’t stand.” He pauses. “Did you stop him?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Did you tell him to stop?”
“No.”
“Did you do anything at all? A word? A gesture? A single sign that you saw her as something worth protecting?”
“No.”
“No, you didn’t. You stood there and watched while a human male beat a fae female with an iron rod, and you did nothing. And now you want me to believe you’re sorry?” He laughs, the sound so cruel it sends a shiver up my spine. “I’ve had three hundred years of humans being sorry after the fact. It’s amazing how much remorse they can muster once the entertainment is over.”
“Iamsorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I am. I didn’t understand."
“No, you didn’t.” His grip tightens slightly, trapping the air in my throat. “And now you want me to let you out? To care aboutyourcomfort?”
“Please.” I hate how desperate I sound. I hate how aware I am of his hand on my throat, his body so close to mine, the heat of him. “Please. I just need to see the sky. I need to breathe.Please.”
“Again.”
“Wh-what?”
“You want out of this tent?” He traces my lips with one finger. “Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll consider it.”
“Please … please let me out.”
“You can do better than that. I’ve heard humans beg before. For their lives, for mercy, for one more day, one more hour, one more breath.” His thumb strokes along my throat. “You’re not even close.”
“Please.” I hate the desperation in my voice. I hate how my body leans toward him even while my mind screams to pull away. “Please let me out. I’ll do anything. I’ll kneel. I’ll crawl. I’ll?—”
