“Like I’ve been wandering in darkness for my whole life.” His gaze sweeps my face, his answer flowing from his tongue like it’s been waiting. “And now I’ve seen light for the very first time.”
Those words thread around my ribcage and squeeze. As much as I hate to admit it, his certainty speaks to something in me. Suddenly, I’m back in my temple, kneeling with my hands clasped, awaiting the goddess’s grace.
Because Iknowconviction like that. I respect it. I cherish it above all else.
But that doesn’t mean I’ll submit to this goblin’s bizarre fixations.
“Look,” I say. “I don’t want to be yourmate, and Idefinitelydon’t want to be Amriel’s. I just want to break this curse and go home, like we agreed.”
The Shadow’s brows crook. “None of us has a say in who our mate is. If you’d just stay a while, if you’d let me show you, let me touch?—”
“No.” The word jets from between my teeth. “You won’t be touching me. Ever.”
He stares for an overlong moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “If it’s my goblin form that bothers you, you could let Amriel do it.Hecould show you what it feels like when your mate?—”
“No!” I resist the urge to clamp my hands over my ears. “No one’s touching me,especiallynot Amriel. He’d sooner send me to my death in that forest, anyway.”
The Shadow’s gaze grows haunted. “I know it seems that way. But Amriel only acts the way he does because he’s forgotten how to want. How to do anything but suffer the pain of the curse. Now that you’re here, though, now that he can see you, smell you…” His nostrils flare on an inhale. “He’ll remember. He won’t be able to help himself.”
The warning slides an icy dagger into my belly. The idea of Amriel looking at me with the same hunger this Shadow does… I shake my head, trying to banish the thought.
Goddess. One fae mate is bad enough, buttwo? No, thank you. I’d rather face my death in the Wildwood than a version of the fae king who actually wants me.
“Given enough time,” the Shadow continues, “humans can’t resist a mate bond, either. If you’d just stay, Princess, you’ll eventually give in. You’llwantto. Either to Amriel, or to me. Maybe you’ll even run from me on purpose. And when you do…” His voice drops to a husky murmur. “I’ll catch you. Claim you. Keep you here forever. It could all be so easy.”
I stare, my throat moving around a painful swallow. “No. I’m going back to Aethrolia. I’m becoming a priestess. And when I do, I’ll forget all about this. You. It’ll be like it never happened.”
Another silence piles around us, this one thick enough that the Shadow gathers a breath before breaking it. “I think it goes without saying that I’ll do everything in my power to convince you otherwise. But if youdogo into the Wildwood, you should know that when youshatter that hourglass, you’ll have a choice. Two doors. You’ll only be able to walk through one.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“One will lead back here, to the castle. To your room, probably. I don’t exactly know.”
My brows knit. “And the other?”
“Back home, to Aethrolia. If you break the curse, you’ll have to choose where to go.”
I let that information settle, then study the stars, the woods, the impossible distance stretching in all directions. “That’s not a choice, then. That’s an inevitability. Because I’llalwayschoose the Aethrolian door. No matter what.” I just have to survive a lethal forest, first. Scale a sheer cliff, then make my way across a land bridge that looks as likely to crumble as to support my weight.
I stare out, my stomach churning, my brains spinning in nauseated circles.
“Itisa choice,” the Shadow insists. “I just hope that by the time you make it, you’ll have given me a chance. Givenusa chance.”
I eye him. He doesn’t seem to mind sharing his half of our so-called mate bond with his twin, seems more concerned with convincing me to stay. “If you think I’ll enslave myself to you on purpose, you’re dreaming.”
“Enslave yourself?” An angry sound leaves his throat. “No. More likeenshrineyourself. Why pray to that goddess of yours when you could become one? Because I’d worship at your feet, Princess. I’d give you whatever you want. I’d tear my own heart out, if you asked. Offer it to you on a silver platter.”
His words land low in my gut, heavy enough to bruise. “That’s nonsensical. You just met me.”
He eases closer. To my dismay, his scent intensifies, committing an assault on my senses I can only barely withstand.
“It doesn’t need to make sense,” he says. “As your mate, I want you. I’ll always want you.”
My skin pebbles at his nearness. “You want to chase me, you mean.”
His purple tongue darts out to moisten his lips. “Yes.”
“And eat me.”
