Emperor Lir strode up to the bed in his silk black trousers, cinched low around his waist. She swallowed hard as her eyes tripped along the ridges of his abs. His glistening bronze skin glowed even in the darkness of the room. Without a word of warning, he climbed into the bed beside her.
Her heart hammered her ribs as she held out her wrists. “Go on then.”
“No chains,” he murmured, sliding onto his side to gaze at her. “I fear we’ll both struggle to sleep with them on.”
She frowned, even as relief soothed her frayed nerves. “I thought that’s why you brought me in here. What changed?”
“I can keep an eye on you without them.”
“What if I try to murder you in your sleep?”
“You won’t.”
“You’re my enemy. Maybe I will.”
“I’m your husband,” he said with a lazy smile. “You could not kill me even if you tried.”
Dammit.
“You know what? I really hate magic,” she muttered.
“And yet you fae are so desperate to have it again.” His dark lashes flared across his cheeks as his gaze turned intent. “You think your lives would be better if you could wield the power of ice or shadows or air again.”
She twisted toward him just as he wet his lips. Her eyes caught on his tongue, nearly stopping her heart in her chest. As her breath came out hot and fast, she struggled to focus on his question. Tension pounded against her skull, tempting to pull her closer to Lir.
This is ridiculous, she thought.Why are you reacting to him like this?
“Um.” She cleared her throat and tried to quiet her wild thoughts. “I mean, why wouldn’t it improve our lives? For one, we would live far longer than we can now.”
“Immortality is not all it is cracked up to be.” Sighing, he closed his eyes. “In fact, it can be quite lonely.”
Her heart shuddered against her ribs. Was this why he’d married her? Because he was lonely? It made a twisted sort of sense. She’d rarely seen him with any friends. His meetings with others were formal and brief, and he rarely dined in the hall with members of the nobility.
When she’d first met him, he’d come across so harsh and cruel, but she had to admit that she’d seen a different side of him since then. He cared about his subjects. He didn’t use harsh punishment like the kings of Tir Na Nog did.
But all of this only confused her even more. He was kind and just. To others. Why not to her?
“Lir,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against the pillow. He met her gaze with piercing eyes, the corner of his lips tilting up. He didn’t even correct her for failing to use his title. “Will you ever let me go?”
Anger flashed across his features. Every hint of softness vanished as if it had never even been there at all. “You know the answer to that, Eislyn.”
“It’s not fair,” she hissed, unbidden tears flooding her eyes. “I’ve seen you. All this time, I’ve watched what you do. You aren’t cruel, like you want me to believe. You try to do the right thing for your people. How could trapping me here be the right thing? How can you think this is just or kind?”
She held her breath in her throat, a desperate hope plunging through her. Maybe she would get through to him. Maybe he would somehow change his mind and undo the magic that trapped her inside this palace for the rest of her life.
But all that hope vanished in the blink of an eye. With an irritated sigh, he turned to his other side so that his back now stared her in the face. She glared at him, her fingers itching to reach out and drag their nails down his skin. That would show him!
“Goodnight, Eislyn. I think that’s enough discussion for one night.”
“You’re impossible,” she whispered at him. “I take back everything I said. You aren’t a just ruler at all.”
“Do I need to put the chains on you to get you to be quiet?” His voice had lost every hint of kindness now. All that was left was thorns and steel.
“No,” she grumbled, twisting to the side so that she didn’t have to look at him any longer. Not even his stupid back. “I hate you by the way.”
“So you’ve said.”
30
