The thick, cool, slightly bergamot-scented air of my private courtyard fills my lungs with the first bit of true calm I've experienced all day. Stepping out of my boots and socks, I pad barefoot across the manicured lawn. Fog swirls around my ankles as I make my way toward the fae-made hot spring tucked neatly in one corner of my heavily warded oasis.
My biceps strain against linen as I unbuckle my belt, leaving it undone to pull the offensively wrinkled shirt over my head before tossing it to the ground. Rolling my newly freed shoulders and shivering at the caress of cool air against my bare skin, I extricate myself from the last of my clothes and sink carefully into the comforting heat of the small pool. My head thunks back against a mossy pillow, and I sigh.
What a disgustingly inconvenient mess. I loathe clandestine liaisons, especially when they're being conducted so close to home. It's been obvious for some time that Saskia is a devious little wench, butshe's clearly far more cunning than I gave her credit for if she's been able to manipulate a member of my extended family to get her access to shadow dust. Andhowhas she convinced them?
My lip curls with revulsion at the realization that she's probably whoring herself out—not something that would normally disgust me, but the idea of dipping my wick in a cunt at the same time as one of my family members does, in fact, cross a line for me. Especially if it's one of the more promiscuous males—it's hard to posit what sorts of diseases those lotharios carry, or how many.
But that can't be the only motivation. Court whores are a dime a dozen, and no cunt feels good enough to risk the punishments that accompany treason. Saskia isn't even one of the better easy lays—far too performative, that one.
My eyes pop open, and I sit up straighter, water sloshing with the sudden movement. Performative, indeed.
SheknowsI'm put off by her disgustingly faux renditions of climactic displays. It's one of the main reasons I haven't bothered with her of late—she persists with the act no matter how blunt I am about her not carrying on like the lead in some cheap Shakespearean production.That duplicitous little witch is playing the long game.
Simpering and fawning over me every chance she gets, but being purposefully distasteful in the bedroom. No—there's no way it's not connected. She's far too perceptive and clever for it to be a mere coincidence. My jaw clenches painfully, and I breathe in slowly through my nose.Fucking females. As has been happening far more often than I'm comfortable with lately, a pair of warm amber eyes flash through my mind, and I growl, forcing the memories away. I don't have time to be plagued by sentimentality right now. Or ever.
No. What I need, is to orchestrate a spot of torture. Nothing like doling out punishments for treason to take the mind off the banalitiesthat haunt you. Right, well, time to sort out who the lucky traitor is, and inform them they've won the gift of my undiverted attention. At least, until I get bored.
19
Shibari Shadows
Seth
Idrag a hand over my face and sigh as my knee bounces again. When I woke up and Ryn was missing, my mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario—especially considering when I disappeared the other night, I came home on probation. Maybe she just went to work and expected me to leave when I woke up? But then, why wouldn't she have messaged me back by now? I mean, it's been hours. At this point I’m too wired to leave without knowing she’s okay.
I try to check in on her through the necklace again, but it’s no use…she must have taken it off. My hands bunch up into fists, and my chest buzzes with anxiety. Wisps of shadow swirl around my legs, whipping in the air to match my agitation. I jump to my feet and start pacing, refreshing my notifications to make sure I didn’t miss a call or message. Just as I hover my finger over the call button, I hear a key in the lock and spin around on my heels.
Ryn walks through the door and gives me one of those little forced smiles you give strangers on the street when you don’t actually want to talk to them, and I narrow my eyes. I’ve been trying really fucking hard to stay calm and not make assumptions, because it would be inconceivable to think she went to the Unseelie Courtaloneafter finding out about the shadow dust and all its connotations. After lecturing me about not doing anything stupid and needlessly putting myself in jeopardy, she wouldn’t. Except her mannerisms are screaming that sheabsolutelyfucking did.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Ryn snaps and huffs as she busies herself in the kitchen, opening cabinets and slamming them until she finds her favorite mug.
I roll my neck and take a deep breath, “Like what, Ryn?” There, that sounded non-accusatory. Mostly.
“Like you’re pissed that I didn’t get your permission to leave the house after curfew.” Her eyes narrow as she loads a pod into her coffee maker and presses brew. “I’m fine.”
Hurt lances through my chest, but I keep my face blank. “That’s not fair, and I think you know it. People could be after you, baby. You disappeared without a word or any way to check in.”
She snorts. “So you’re pissed I took off your stalker necklace and didn’t text you? You disappeared with no word recently, too, if you’ve somehow already forgotten!”
My brow ridges furrow, and I choke down an affronted growl of frustration. I can only use the necklace if her magic allows the connection, and she knows it. I would never violate her the way she's insinuating. I can understand being upset, but the cheap shots sting a little. “I was worried about you!”
“Don’t be. I’m not some fragile thing—I’m not your responsibility!” Her voice is firm, and I’m taken aback at the vehemence in it. What the fuck does that mean?
I hesitate, not really sure I want to voice this next part in case she suddenly refutes it, but needing to anyway. “You’re my girlfriend.” I fuckinghatehow vulnerable and whiny I sound.
Ryn carefully takes her cup of coffee and leans against the counter. She doesn’t look at me, and I feel my heart crack a little.
“Yes, I am.” Her voice is low and firm, but her words are like a balm. “And I won’t have you sneaking around behind my back, planning harebrained schemes with your friends that will getyouthrown in fucking jail, all for some chivalrous notion that isn’t even necessary.”
I can feel the magic under my skin gather and swirl on my cheeks indicative of a blush, and I glare at the floor in front of me. “So you put yourself in danger instead and leave me here to feel fucking useless?”
Her mug clinks against the counter, and she eats up the distance between us in a few quick strides. Her fingers bunch up the fabric of my shirt in her hand as she tugs me toward her, “You want to be useful?”
I meet her eyes and raise a brow ridge, “Is that a trick question?”
Emotions flash across her face too fast to read before she hardens her gaze and closes the small bit of distance between us, claiming my lips with hers. I blink and open my mouth to ask her what the hell is happening, but she shoves her tongue inside before I can form a word.
Her hands slide down my chest toward my pants, and I tense, because something is very clearly not okay. I pull back as far as she’ll allow and grab her hands, pulling them away from my pants, which are now undone and hanging off my hips. Ryn glances at me briefly, then leans in to kiss my neck, and I huff.
