I shake my head, unwilling to ask how he knows about that. Hereads. Of course he knows reader terms. What an absoluteenigma. “So you’re keeping me in a cage because of a book you read?”
“Because if I make a mistake, if you grow curious about my eyes and metaphorically sneak into my room at night to check, the repercussions will not be momentary. You will die. Because, if there are not bars between us in the moments when there might be a lapse of judgment, I do not know what might happen.” His grip tightens on my ankle, grinding bone, and it occurs to me he did not in any way promisenotto hurt me. Still, conviction vibrates in his voice when he says, “I am not willing to lose you. Ever. Least of all by my own hand.”
Humans only live a hundred years or so. Many faeries, according to Frelsi, are not so finite. One way or another, time will take me from him eventually. Unless…he has a way to keep me for as long as he wants.
Feeling bold, I ask, “Why don’t you lock yourself in the cage then, and let me have the key?”
“Your cage also protects you from the nasties that roam my domain. Have you ever woken to a goblin in your bed?”
“Um. No?”
“Is that an experience you want to have?”
I pout. “Probably not.”
He smiles. “You are entrancing. And new. The lesser unseelie and the beast unseelie may find you fascinating. I’d rather them know you cannot be reached so easily. Trust me, my feather. I will take you anywhere, kill anyone you ask me to, do anything you wish. You are not trapped in a cage. You are trapped with me.”
“Always?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I let that roll over in my brain.
Built-in protection in the form of a pretty faerie bodyguard.
There are…worse things.
“Are you thinking of escaping?” he asks.
My head shakes. “No.”
“Please tell me your thoughts.”
Forcing myself to breathe, I look at his hand around my ankle. My foot on his chest. The vast expanse of air behind him. It would be too simple topush. But then I’d be stranded up here. In Russia. Without any way to translate anything. No money. No extra clothes.
My mother would find me before I could figure out what to do next, and by that point, who knows what might have happened to me?
Escaping from Castor is a very brief solution.
I am powerless alone.
“What worth do I have?” I ask.
“Worth?” he echoes.
“Why are you so committed to me? What do I offer you in return for this level of loyalty?” I square my shoulders. “What do you expect from me?”
His smile fades. He strokes a tickling caress up the arch of my foot. “Expectations…” His head turns, and a breeze teases his hair. Long moments pass, sun warming my skin. “I think,” he says finally, “probably…I expect love.”
Love.
He expectslovefrom me?
Don’t kick him off a cliff then, I guess?
I’m almost positive that’s not loving behavior.
Looking around, I locate a ledge with more space. I point. “Can you take me over there?”
