A snarl rumbled in the back of his throat. He flashed his teeth at me, elongated canines gleaming in his mouth, and kept digging.
I watched him for a moment before trying again. “Ethan.”
“Do not dissuade me from this task, woman.”
Woman. Le swoon. “Evie could not release him from this cage even if she wanted to.”
His hands stilled. “What.”
“Danu holds him,” I said quietly. “Despite your blatant dislike of Evie, she has always been reasonable. From what I understand of Danu, she is…less so. This punishment was taken out of Evie’s hands the moment he went into the ground.”
Ethan swore under his breath and removed his hands from the dirt. “How long?”
“Another twenty-four hours,” I said.
“Will he be released alive?”
“From everything I know, yes.”
Ethan peered up at me. A smudge of dirt marred his perfect cheek, lending him a decidedly human and rumpled look. Yum.
“Will he be the same?”
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Leaning no on that one, Ethan.”
At the flash of magic in his irises, I held up my hands. “Sometimes the lessons we learn are hard ones. You can see the evidence of his neglect. Perhaps it’s better if he comes back changed.”
He rose to his feet, not bothering to dust off his slacks. His knees and perfectly shined loafers were covered in icy mud.
Ethan Flint, why am I so obsessed with you?
The Lord looked to the horizon, where the sun was slowly beginning to set, then back at me. “You’re staying here?”
I nodded.
“It’s freezing out here.”
A tiny, hairline crack appeared in the stone surrounding my heart. “It is,” I agreed. “I brought a blanket.”
“And cookies.”
“And cookies,” I agreed.
“And nuts and fruit.”
“Yep. This shouldn’t go over two days, and I needed food that would keep.”
He shook his head. “I know you won’t agree, but I can stay with them.”
I stared at him.
He let out a sigh. “Fine.” Ethan fished his wallet out and handed me a heavy, embossed card with his name and a phone number stamped in silver foil across the middle. “Call me the moment he wakes up.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Please.”
Not waiting for my response, he stalked back over to the cookie tin, opened it back up, and took a handful of my shortbread.
