Terror, raw and animalistic. The kind that makes prey freeze before it bolts.
Good. That’s what I wanted. It’s the reason I chose Vel—someone who has made no secret of wanting her dead. Vel won’t shield her from anything. She’ll march her through the camp of fae who’d gut her for sport, wearing a scrap of fabric that barely qualifies as clothing, and let every fae who wants to look get their fill.
If that doesn’t make the connection flare, nothing will.
I go back to the book.
The second spike comes ten minutes later. It’s stronger this time, and my pulse picks up speed. I have to grip the edge of thetable until the panic subsides.
I map the sensation as it fades. Strong emotion is the trigger. The stronger it is, the brighter the flare. Fear works. So does humiliation. I felt that when I made her kneel and called her pet. When I stripped her bare this morning and watched her try to cover herself.
The connection pulses again. It’s fainter this time, but sustained. A low thrum of dread that doesn’t spike, but simply continues. She’s gotten past her initial terror and settled into endurance.
I know that feeling. I lived it for three hundred years.
I find myself leaning toward it, the book lowering, as I pay attention, tracking her emotional state as she moves through the camp.
That’s the part that bothers me.
When she’s vulnerable,trulyvulnerable, I notice. Some part of my awareness orients toward her whether I choose it or not. When her walls crack, I feel it. And instead of dismissing it and shutting it out, I find myself wanting to know more.
Idon’twant to want that. I don’t want to feel anything for her at all.
But this connection … thisthingthat has formed between us … doesn’t care what I want.
The flap peels back and Vel steps inside. The smile on her face speaks of pleasure at a job well done.
“Well?”
Vel’s smile widens. “She was shaking by the third shelter. Almost vomited at the fifth. I had to hold on to her to keep her from bolting twice.” She examines her nails, pursing her lips. “Brielle got close enough to whisper something. I didn’t hear what it was. But your little female went white as bone.”
“Did anyone touch her?”
“No.” Her eyes flicker with disappointment. “I kept them back, as you wanted.”
“And where is she now?”
“Outside.” Vel’s eyes meet mine. “I think she’s actually more afraid of you than them. I don’t know what you’ve been doing to her while you’ve been all alone. But it’s not fair of you to leave us out of it.”
“Some things aren’t meant to be shared, Vel.” I close the book and place it on the table. “Bring her back inside.”
Vel turns, then faces me again. “She’s close to breaking, you know. A few more days of this and there won’t be anything left to play with.” Her tone is more serious now. “You might want to decide what you want from herbeforethat happens.”
She doesn’t wait for my response, disappearing outside. A moment later, the princess steps inside.
She’s shaking. That’s been a constant state in all our time together, but this is different. This isn’t the fine tremors of someone fighting to hold themselves together. These are full body shudders that make her arms jerk against her ribs where she’s got them wrapped around herself. The tunic has ridden up on one side, baring her thigh almost to her hip, but she hasn’t noticed. Her face is the gray-white of old snow, except for two spots of color high on her cheeks. Her eyes won’t settle on anything, darting around the shelter constantly.
The connection between us pulses with her fear. Cold, clammy, and thick enough to taste.
“Come here.”
She flinches at my voice, and for a moment I think she’s going to bolt. But there isn’t anywhere she can run to. She knows that. She crosses to me in stiff, uneven steps, and when she reaches my chair, she stops, waiting. Her breath comes in shallow, rapid pulls that don’t seem to be giving her enough air.
I let the silence build, and watch her fight to control her breathing … and fail.
“Kneel.”
She drops. Her knees hit the furs with a thud she doesn’t seem to feel. She stays there, hunched over herself, arms still locked around her ribs.
