Page 58

His voice was a soft whisper in the silk of my unbound hair as he mounted the simple bed and set me down, my back pressed against his chest, long limbs wrapping round me to hold me close. The warmth radiating from him permeated the robe and sank into my skin. “As I was saying, my lady, what has turned your mood so dark?”

My eyes caught on the brazier and its slow rolling crackle of a fire. My instincts were telling me to trust Brittle Spear, to tell him everything. To unburden myself and have at least one person in this fucked-up shithole that I could trust fully who wasn’t beholden to me beyond a silly oath. But every time I thought of opening my mouth, all I could think of was being forced back to the palace and what the bastard on the throne would do to me when I was returned.

The neckline of the robe slipped down and a delicate kiss was placed to the flesh at my shoulder, causing a shiver to race down my spine.

“What are you doing?” My voice sounded hollow.

“You’re distant. Sad. Defeated. It’s not like you,” he purred against tender skin.

“So, you’re just going to, what? Fuck it out of me? And how would you know what is and is not like me?”

The smile curled against my skin as his arms banded around my waist, spidering fingers working past the overlap of the robe to rest against the naked flesh of my stomach. “Do you think I would swear fealty to good pussy and a pretty wrapper? Do you think I did not hoard information about you and shift and position The Raven just as much as he shifted and positioned me? Did you ever ask yourself, my sweet Pearl, why it was that he was able to make it to my chambers with you, let alone what allowed him to think I would be such an easy target to pin his little assassination on?” The crook of a knuckle brushed against the sensitive skin at the base of my breast. My body screamed no, but my head argued that this was the best way to get over someone, to fuck Emrys out of my system. “You have met so many Fae since you were brought here. Have you met any of them who would be led about by their cock? Let alone an Ard Tiarna? Oh no, dear Pearl, I watched you in the throne room when you were first brought before the Ard Rí. I watched the power roll off you, even at your lowest. I watched you slice and bite and kick and saw how you fought, even when it was the smarter—nay, easier—thing to do. To lie down and capitulate.”

I shivered, my body loosening into the play of his fingers across my skin, my mind finally convincing it that it wouldn’t be so bad. The way his voice draped over me was like dark silk easing my flesh’s reluctance. “You still don’t know me, Brittle Spear.”

His teeth grazed over my skin, first the blunted tips I was familiar with and then sharp razors that whispered a dangerous promise before being replaced once again by normal teeth. “I know who you are. Fae. You sought to hide it, or it was hidden from you. But I smelled it on you.”

Ice flowed through me, but not enough to bank the growing desire he toyed at with dancing fingers that never strayed beyond my stomach, hips, and the underside of my breasts. “How?”

“The magic living in every Fae smells of honey and sweet berries. It is unmistakable for one trained to smell it. And you stank of it from the first.” His voice dropped low, and his lips drifted up the column of my throat. “Shall I continue, my lady? Or have I proven myself to know you?”

Twisting my head up, I looked into the eldritch gaze misplaced in his young face. “Then you know The Raven is my anam cara?”

A slow smile like whiskey poured over ice—and just as intoxicating—flowed over his lips. “I had wondered how long it would take you to admit that to both yourself and to me. Yes, my Pearl, I know.”

“Then you know we can’t—”

“Can’t what? Enjoy each other’s bodies?” He tilted his head as the smile grew more teasing. “And why is that, my dear Pearl? Did we not meet while sharing bodies? Did we not meet with a bond between you two? What has changed? Is it because he is not here to tie you from me, and we enjoy each other without him?”

“Yes. I mean. No. Yes? And more.”

A gentle kiss was placed on my neck as if he was humoring me. “The Raven has been possessive since the day he was born, but he has never been selfish. And he has something that I could never have of yours. I do not ask for you to be mine alone. I do not ask you to put all others out of your mind and heart. I only ask that until you grow tired of me, you share your body, your mind, and perhaps someday, your heart. That is all. Nothing more. And I will give you the same. You are bound to him, and always will be. I will not interfere with that.”

Tears gathered at the edges of my eyes, acid made of guilt, sorrow, and mourning what he so casually spoke of that I had been so casual about giving away. I fought them, waged war so that they did not spill free, but Brittle Spear could not miss them. I was turned, my eyes pressing closed against the dizzying spin, and when my legs were bodily forced to wrap around Brittle Spear’s waist, it was no longer Iron Thorn’s face but the dashing auburn-haired Brittle Spear I had writhed atop. His thumb and forefinger gripped my chin when I tried to pull my face away, tried to bury the ache that his words caused.

“What is it, my Pearl?” His voice was hushed, free of the tease, free of the jaunty courtier, and soft and tender as the petals of a magnolia just blooming into the warmth of summer. “What has happened?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine. Just . . . I’m just tired of being pawed at constantly by you fucking Fae. All you want is to fuck. That’s all you think about. You’re vapid creatures. And I hate you all.” I channeled all my venom, all my pain, all my anger, all my hate and bitterness into those words. Let them grow sharp and deadly.

And yet he just smiled and pulled me against him, crushing me against his chest, tipping my chin up so that I was forced to look at him. I had once thought I could fall into the cosmos in his eyes, but now, this close, there was more to them that I hadn’t noticed. I could almost pick out the swaying, twisted branches of night-kissed trees casting voids across the starlit sky of his eyes that searched mine.

“Out there? Beyond this tent? Beyond my arms? We will wear the faces required of us. I will wear Iron Thorn, and you will wear the titanium armor of an untouchable hellcat. In here? In this bed? I will be your Brittle Spear. I will be your strength. Cry. Scream. Rage against the injustice of existence. I will hold you and keep you as long as you let me.” His eyes dipped to my lips, where his thumb gently stroked. “I will not give you an oath of companionship, fair one, for I would not wish you ever to think that magic was the only thing that kept me true to you. Know that, unlike the Fae of the palace, my words are not corrupt, nor my very nature bound to capriciousness. Mine is deep and steady as roots.”

I watched his angelic face, so smooth and free of duplicity. I needed to be able to rely on someone. Anyone at this point. Someone who did not rely on me for something they needed. Did I defy my own rules and trust him? Could I shatter the guiding principles that had kept me safe for so many years, knowingly?

“What was it that I said, my Pearl?” he whispered, ducking his head to once again capture my gaze. I had always hated eye contact; it was what stood out with The Raven. I could tolerate his too intimate eyes, and here was Brittle Spear, pointedly making eye contact, and it didn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin. It was just a small itch, just a single misplaced cat scratch on the edge of my psyche. Something so small and inconsequential that I could ignore it.

It made me want to bury my face in his hair and take a deep breath of the spiced scent of him.

“You said my soul was bound to his.” My voice was just as hushed as his, just as reverent of this moment.

A casually dismissive smile brightened his worried face. “And so it is. So it will be.”

“But it’s not. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Rusty brows drew together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The anam cara bond no longer binds us.”