I should be relieved andgrateful. I’m neither of those things.
He’s going to get himself killed.
I shouldn’t care. He kidnapped me. Used me. Every nightmare I’ll have for the rest of my life will wear his face.
Human females who want to fuck the dangerous fae. Who want tobelieve they’re special. That they’ve tamed something wild and vicious.
My face burns even now, alone in the bath, remembering the contempt in his voice. But underneath the shame, there’s also anger. I’m scared to examine it too closely.
The water cools around me, but I don’t get out. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, while the light fades and the fire pops.
He’s out there somewhere. The Dell’s hunters will be searching for him, but they won’t find him. He’s too smart for that. And I think his magic is returning. I saw it at the stream, that silver light flickering between his fingers.
Fae magic. One of the reasons they are caged in iron.
I should tell Brennan and Huntmaster Cowen. I should go downstairs right now, find them both, and tell them that he isn’t running. That he’s going to come back.
But I can’t.
You told the serving girl I was a pet. You told the seamstress your father bought me.
Every lie he had me tell wove a trap around me. If I speak now, I don’t just look complicit, I look guilty. Even if they believed me, even if I could explain why I did what I did, what then?
So I stay silent. I have no other choice. It should horrify me. Itdoeshorrify me. The girl I was a week ago would be disgusted, appalled and ashamed. But that girl is dead, and what’s left behind is something messier.
Because I don’t want him to die. He terrified me, and I miss him. He used me, and I would let him do it again.
Eventually the water is too cold for comfort. I get out, dry off with the towel left for me, and dress in the clean nightgown left draped across the bed. It’s made from fine linen, soft against my skin, the kind of thing I’ve always taken for granted.
I climb onto the bed with its soft mattress and clean sheets.The pillow smells of dried flowers, and the blankets are heavy and warm.
Tomorrow, I’ll go home. I’ll see my father and pretend everything is how it should be. I’ll smile, and nod, and tell my story again. I’ll become the girl I was before.
Except I won’t. Becausethatgirl would have killed him. And that girl is gone.
I close my eyes.
Go home, Alleria. Forget this happened.
But how? How am I supposed to do that?
FOURTEEN
CAIRN
I holdthe glamour keeping me hidden in place until she disappears, then drop it and move deeper into the trees.
The wards are my first concern. I don’t want to find myself trapped inside the hunting area again. I have to assume they’ve already repaired the damage I did. Their mage would have felt the breach, and humans are nothing if not predictable in their fear. They’ll have patched the hole and congratulated themselves on their cleverness.
I skirt wide, testing the boundaries with senses that are slowly remembering what they’re for. The ward magic hums at the edge of my awareness, familiar and hateful. When I find where it starts, I stay clear and circle toward the Dell from the north.
The hedgerow at the Dell’s northern boundary is overgrown and neglected. I push through into the gap where the branches weave thick enough to hide me, and sink to the ground.
Inside the preserve, my people are waiting. My escape will have brought them a short reprieve from the hunts. Cowen won’t want to risk patrons' necks while a fae runs loose, or more accurately, he won’t risk losing another prize. They might havedelayed any further hunts while they searched for the missing princess, but the modifications won’t have stopped, and the rentals to bored noblewomen won’t have paused.
The Dell’s business continues unhindered, but not for much longer.
Soon, these humans will remember what it meant to fear us.
