Page 57 of My Fae Lady

Darkness take us all, my home was plagued with Bartons. The duke wasn’t gallivanting around in Deep Faerie at all. He’d been here all this time.

He refuses to die, House said. His magic preserves him and trapping him tires us.

I sighed. “He’s immortal. Of course he won’t die. You’ve chosen a terrible meal for yourself.”

The walls ignited with a flair of bright green color that could have rivaled Giselle’s angriest gaze. He tried to trap us in that horrible fountain, House hissed. You help us. We help you.

I stuffed my hand in my pocket and found Giselle’s token made with my own feathers. I fingered the barb. “Giselle will want her father back.”

Kill the intruder. We’ll absorb his strength and have the power to remove the Barton curse on your wounds. They will heal.

“But Giselle,” I said softly, helplessly. Because how could such a choice be mine? The fae I once was roared inside me for daring to hesitate to reclaim all that we’d lost. The law of strength still had power here. His forefather had bested me. I’d had no choice but to surrender to him to save the lives of those young soldiers, but now was my chance to best them all. To beat the Bartons at their own treacherous game.

Our dear Giselle never needs to know, the wild magic cooed. He will remain until nothing is left, and then our magic will be renewed.

I wanted my wings back. I wanted to take to the air in the way of my people. To travel amongst the clouds. To catch fresh raindrops from the sky on my tongue, to feel the gale of a storm through my hair.

I had once wanted revenge, but I no longer felt the burn of that violent hatred. All I saw when I closed my eyes was a fair fae face with golden skin, mahogany hair, and determined indigo eyes, her rose bud lips in a droll twist.

Giselle wished for her father. And if I helped the wild magic take its revenge on the intruder who’d tried to trap it in an orderly fountain, Giselle would spend the rest of her life certain her father had chosen to abandon her. The story she was already telling herself was that he didn’t return because he didn’t enjoy living with her.

Most of the Bartons didn’t deserve any better. Taking this fae’s life would do my conscience no harm, but I couldn’t abide causing Giselle any pain.

“I can’t.”

You can!

I couldn’t because I loved her. I was in love with Giselle. I loved her more than my wings, more than my comfort, and vastly more than any revenge. I expected panic to surge through me at the notion, but I found nothing of the like there. Just a contented calm within me.

I fisted my fingers around the feather boutonniere in my pocket, and my nostrils flared. “I can. But I won’t.”

Twenty-Two

Sylvan

⊱❀⊰

I reached down through the icy blue barrier. Winter frost covered my hands and a flair of innate Unseelie magic warmed through my fingers, dispelling the sleep enchantment. I gripped the duke by the lapels of his jacket, and I hauled him up to his feet.

House roared at me and the cavern walls turned forest green and shook.

Percival’s eyes fluttered open. When they fixed on me they went yellow in surprise. He wobbled on his feet.

“You? Who are you?”

“Sylvan Rook,” I growled. He tried to put up a fight, shoving away my hands, but he’d been asleep a long while. It would take some time for even immortal muscles to awaken fully. He wobbled on his feet like a newly born calf.

I supported His Grace with his arm thrown over my shoulder and his weight tucked against my side. He smelled like mold and damp. His clothing had started to rot from the years trapped on the floor of that cavern.

“Water,” he panted. “I need water.”

“You need a boot in the ass,” I groused. Yes, I had chosen to save his hide from a fate he put himself in, but sure as the night was dark, I was not going to be perky about it. I dragged him out of the small room that had been his prison. Out in the central cavern, House threw a fit, tossing treasures and smashing items against the rocky walls.

“This place is a madhouse,” Percival said drily. He’d given up the fight to stand on his own two feet and leaned fully against me.

I marched him out of the heart of the manor, back into the sitting room. Giselle was there in her work apron.

“Father!” she exclaimed. Her eyes rounded in surprise. She leapt to her feet and rushed to his side.