Sure, it’ll cost me my freedom, but maybe it’s worth it.
One glance up at Nine and I know that, not only is he aware of where my thoughts—and my heart—are leading me, he so doesn’t agree with me.
“You can’t trust the queen.”
Duh. “I know that.”
“There’s nothing to stop her from taking one of her guard’s swords and lopping off your head once you’ve agreed to let her freeze you in place.”
“I know that, too. I’m not a complete moron, Nine. If I do this, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting out of this in one piece. But isn’t that what the prophecy said? It’s either her or me, and it’s not like I ever really believed I had a chance against the queen of the fae. At least, this way, I’m getting something out of it. I just hope that she lets you go, too. Maybe I can try to bargain with her some more, make sure you stay safe.”
Nine’s eyes gleam. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve survived Melisandre before.”
I’m beginning to realize that.
There’s something there, and it’s not only how easily he calls her by her name instead of her title, like Rys did. It’s the way she coos his name, how she mentioned that she hand-picked him to join her guard, then lost him to, well, me.
I’m thinking that really pissed her off.
Great. So now she probably hates me for two reasons. I should probably count myself lucky that she didn’t follow through with her threat and have Rys remove my head to get to my necklace then and there. At least, if I’m frozen as a statue first, I won’t realize it when the fatal strike comes my way.
I just don’t understand why she needs me to agree before she turns me into a statue. Is it because she wants to make me suffer first? The all-powerful Fae Queen should be able to snap her fingers or wave her hands and, poof, I’m frozen solid.
But she didn’t. And I don’t get it.
When I ask Nine, he doesn’t act surprised that I’ve picked up on that. He does seem pleased, though.
“It’s because you’re the Shadow,” he explains. “None of us know what the extent of your power is. When you were an infant, you were shade-walking better than fae who had existed for more than a hundred years. The shadows obey you. They protect you, too. Iron doesn’t harm you. And when it comes to the touch...”
He trails off his sentence. I wait to see if he’ll finish it and, when he doesn’t, I prod him. “The touch?”
“It’s different with you,” Nine says. And he leaves it at that.
“So what’s all that supposed to mean?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. But I would’ve expected Melisandre to take out the threat the moment you landed in Faerie. It’s why I insisted on you carrying part of my shadow wherever you went. As soon as you crossed into my world, I could get to you so long as you needed me.”
“Your shadow?” I echo. “Is that what that scarf thing was?”
Nine nods. “I told you that you should’ve known what it was. I gave you part of my shadow to shield you while you learned how to conjure your own.”
That’s… okay, that’s kind of cool. And now I feel a little stupid. For all the times I wrapped myself in blankets made of shadow, I never realized that Nine’s scrap of fabric was the same thing.
Probably because it’s thicker, stronger, and more real than any of the shadows I pull toward me. Makes sense, I guess. Nine’s been around longer than me. Plus, as a Dark Fae, he must be a pro at manipulating shadows.
I have so much I could learn from him. Now that he’s opening up to me, I’m probably going to have to leave him.
Because that’s just my luck.
“I still don’t get it, Nine. If you thought she’d gun for me, and I sure as hell did, why is she giving me the choice? Why am I still talking and moving instead of acting like I’m made of rock already?”
“I assume it’s because you are the Shadow. Your magic is too different, too unpredictable. The only thing I can think is that Melisandre did attempt to immobilize you, then turned to the bargain when it failed.”
I’m still getting a crash course in what it’s like to be half-fae and the star of some ancient prophecy, but I’ve gotta agree with Nine. If she could’ve done it, she totally would have.
Which means that, if I want to make the best of this situation, I’ve only got one choice.
I can’t escape. How could I? First off, I’m in Faerie jail. Second, it’s not like there are a bunch of shadows or pockets lying around that I can use. Spoiler alert: in this bright, white palace, the only one I’ve seen is the one created when I threw Nine’s shadow in the throne room.
And third?
I can’t abandon my parents and Nine.
I can’t.
I’ve spent my whole life being left behind by anyone and everyone I ever cared about it. Against my better judgment, I let my guard down around Nine again these last few weeks. And my parents… they didn’t want to leave me. It wasn’t their choice. I won’t leave them like that if there’s anything I can do to change it.
I can tell the second Nine understands that I’ve made up my mind. And it’s not like I’m trying to be a martyr or anything, even if I, you know, am. What do I have to look forward to anyway? Being chased by the Fae Queen, forced to dodge the might of her Court, avoiding Faerie—which means I’ll never be able to shadow travel again—and avoiding Dr. Gillespie at the same time. No way I’ve forgotten the weirdo stone he used to find me.
My old Black Pine psychologist is in this up to his fiery red eyebrows. If he was still looking for me months after my break-out, something tells me he’s got his reasons.
Nine obviously doesn’t return my feelings for him. Oh, he cares—in his own way, he definitely cares. But it’s not the same.
It might be better to be a statue where panic attacks, burned hands, and a life of being chased are far behind me.
Nine steps toward me. He starts to reach for my hand, thinks better of it, then lays his arm at his side. Shame. I would’ve liked for him to touch me one last time before I tell the queen that I’ll accept her bargain.
His voice drops. It’s low and husky, and still one of the most alluring things I’ve ever heard. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“You should never trust the fae, Shadow. Haven’t I taught you anything?”
“You’re not just any fae, Nine. You’re the Shadow Man. And I trust you.”
I love you.
I don’t have to say the words. He knows. I know he does.
But he doesn’t return them.
I didn’t expect him to.
I also don’t expect him to take one last, long look at my face before he turns, the long tail of his shadowy coat flaring out behind him. He strides over to the front of our cell, careful not to grasp the iron-filled bars with his bare hands.
“Guard!”
21
It’s one of the Light Fae guards who answers his arrogant call. Not Rys, though, and I’m not even a little surprised. Disappointed, maybe, but not surprised.
“Yes?” He looks at Nine with a bored expression. “What is it, Cursed One?”
“I want to meet with Melisandre. Immediately.”
He what?
“Nine?” I hiss. “What are you doing?”
He has to have heard me. The tips of his pointed ears twitch, his head cocked slightly to the side as if he wants to turn. He doesn’t, though.
The guard shows a little more interest. “I’ll see if my queen is willing to meet with a traitor.”
I flinch when the Light Fae calls Nine that. A traitor? That sounds bad. It’s one thing to throw Nine in Faerie jail with me, but if she really believes that he’s a traitor, what will happen to Nine when I’m gone?
I can’t bring myself to ask him that, not even when the Light Fae leaves the vicinity of our cell. The guard isn’t gone long, though, and by the time I work up enough nerve to even speak to Nine again, he’s back.
Just like everything else I�
��ve seen in this castle, the key is more crystal than anything else. The guard fits it into the keyhole, unlocking the cell door with an ominous snick. He waves the door open, standing back. After trading the key for his sword, he orders us both out of the cell.
“No,” Nine immediately argues. “Leave her here.”
I’ve already started to move toward the open door. “What? No! I’m going with you.”
“Riley—”
“The Shadow comes, too. Queen’s orders, I’m afraid.”
I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at Nine. He doesn’t honestly think that I’m about to let him out of my sight right now? Not when I’m absolutely convinced that, if anything happens to him while in the Fae Queen’s palace, it’s all my freaking fault?
Nine glowers the entire trek back to Melisandre’s throne room. I don’t know how much time has past since we were sent to the cell—it feels like we walked forever both there and back—yet barely anything seems to have changed since.
My parents are still frozen in the corner.
The queen is still perched regally in her glittering throne.
Four of the guard are flanking Melisandre, two on each side. I’ve got no clue if any of them are the same from before—except for Rys.
He’s still here. And, when my glance flickers his way, there’s a burning hunger that he can barely conceal behind his dutiful mask.
I turn away. I can’t let myself be distracted by the Light Fae. Not when the queen is watching me like a cat ready to pounce.
Whether he means to or not, Nine moves so that, once again, he’s shielding me. Protecting me. With nothing but his coat, his shadows, and his haughty determination, Nine is the only barrier standing between me and the Fae Queen.
And we both know it.
Her countenance is peaceful. Serene. Her eyes, though? They’re hard. This is a fae who stole the throne from her husband, then held onto it with force and cruelty. I have to remember that. As gorgeous as she is, it’s glamour. Such thick glamour, I keep getting glimpses of what her true appearance must be—but not enough.
She wants me to believe she’s sweet. Innocent. But innocent monarchs don’t have subjects who call their reign the Reign of the Damned.
I have to remember that, too.
With such a graceful maneuver, she’d make a prima ballerina look clumsy in comparison, Melisandre rises from her throne. She floats down the stairs of the platform, meeting me and Nine on the ground level.
Her guards are a silent shadow at her back.
They’re not the only ones in the room any longer, though. There are at least twelve other fae—each one of them Seelie—milling around near the throne. They part like the Red Sea as Melisandre walks across the room, leaving her a wide path, each one showing respect by bowing their head as she passes.
I gulp.
Melisandre smiles.
“You’ve returned much sooner than I expected,” she says, obviously addressing Nine. “What is it you want to ask of me?”
“I’ve come to ask you nothing. I will make an announcement, and I will offer you a bargain.”
“You’ve intrigued me, Ninetroir. Go on. Make your announcement. After you’ve finished, we’ll see to a bargain. I’m in a fair mood this eve. I might be willing to make two bargains.”
Two. Because she’s so sure that she’s got me where she wants me.
She isn’t wrong, either.
Nine looks around the room, meeting the gaze of the fae watching him interest.
“With the queen of all Faerie, her honored guards, and the Seelie Court as my witness, I’m here to claim what fate has given me. It was foretold that the Shadow would save Faerie by ending the Reign of the Damned, but that’s the Shadow. I’ve known for a while that fate has her own plans for me. I’ve waited for countless years, hoping to find a ffrindau worthy of me. Riley was born to be mine. Now, in front of you all, I claim her. Until Oberon separates us, I belong to her as she belongs to me.”
I— wait. What?
There’s an angry buzz in my skull. The whispers might be from the shock of the others in the throne room—the high-pitched argument Melisandre telling Nine that he’s making a mistake—but most of it comes from me.
What?
Did he just—
What?!
I told him once, right after his touch acted like a drug that made me lose all my damn sense, that if he asked me to be his ffrindau, I’d say yes. I never took it back.
He’s not asking me, though.
In front of the Fae Queen and everyone else, Nine has just told them all that he’s claiming me as his mate. That he’s known all along that fate has chosen me for him and that, with his announcement, he’s no longer fighting it.
That’s okay. I stopped fighting it a long time ago, too.
While the crowd still reacts in open surprise, Nine reaches out and grabs my hand. There’s no time for me to give him permission. I can hear the sizzle as his skin burns, smell the char of flesh in the air as he yanks me toward him.
His eyes are shining, glowing an unearthly silver color that has my breath tearing from my throat. I see everything in his eyes—every emotion, every thought, every hope—his love for me, the madness from a lifetime of waiting for his ffrindau only to have her be a half-human, half-fae reject who ran from the frying pan straight to the fire.
For the first time ever, he’s completely vulnerable. He’s dropped his guard, with the entire Seelie Court acting as a witness to it.
The least I can do is give him the same honor.
I shudder and blink. I can’t find the words, don’t even know how to say what it is I’m feeling inside—a terrible mixture of love, fear, and regret—but I drop the wall around my heart the second I meet his gaze again.
He has my permission. To hold me, to touch me, to love me.
This foolish fae claimed me in front of his queen, her court, and a roomful of soldiers.
He has my permission, and everything that goes with it.
Nine knows. My Shadow Man can see it written on every inch of my face.
The room falls away. Call me reckless, call me insane, but I allow myself to forget all about our audience and the threat they represent when I lose myself in the intensity of Nine’s expression.
I tilt my head back, my lips parted in an open invitation. After only a moment’s hesitation, he swoops down, slanting his mouth over mine, kissing me as if this might be his last act.
I go all in. Because, well, this might just be the last thing I do, too.
I’m half-fae. The blood of a Seelie mixed with a human woman runs through my veins. I might be vulnerable to the fae’s touch magic, but I realize something in that instant: I can turn the touch around.
I can steal some of the power back from the fae touching me.
Does Nine know that? He has to—or he as to at least expect it. He looks so triumphant. So freaking proud of himself when he breaks the kiss and pulls away.
And, okay, that might have been one hell of a first kiss, but something just happened between us.
Something just happened to me.
I feel like I’ve been plugged into an outlet. I’m suddenly full of so much juice, it takes everything I have not to vibrate in place. I don’t want to give any sign that his kiss did more than bring the butterflies in my belly flapping to life, but it’s freaking hard.
The power is a heady rush. I’m wide awake, super alert, like I just downed three espressos straight.
Even better? My shadow senses are tingling.
I swear, I can sense the shadows from every corner of this room. There aren’t many—it’s just as bright as it was in my vision of Carolina with the queen—but each black spot is like a prickle against my consciousness. There’s one in particular behind me that is tugging me toward it.
A pocket.
It’s a pocket.
The last of Nine’s shadow is calling me.
I’m distracted. I’ll be the first one to admit it. C
oming down from that electric first kiss, I’m so freaking distracted, I don’t get that Nine has let go of me or moved toward Melisandre until I hear the harsh edge of his voice reverberate through the silent throne room.
“As her ffrindau, I invoke the right to accept your bargain in my mate’s place. If it pleases you, my queen, I will join your garden if it means Riley doesn’t. She stays alert, alive, and safe for as long as I’m under your spell.”
Melisandre doesn’t even hesitate. “I accept.”
That’s how easy it is. One second Nine is here with me, kissing me, standing up for me. The next? He’s gone. Frozen in place, still hunched in a protective stance, his arm thrown out so that I’m shielded from behind him, Nine is gone.
And, to the queen, immediately forgotten.
She turns to me. “What about our trade, Shadow? Are you willing to give up your freedom for your parents?”
“But Nine… he just—”
“He just ensured that you would be kept as you are while he takes your place. However, nowhere in his bargain did he set the terms on future negotiations. Your parents are still under my spell. Should you choose to trade your freedom for theirs, I’ll let them go. It’s an entirely different bargain than the one Ninetroir so rashly made.”
I never would have thought Nine was rash. However, even I can see the flaw in his bargain. So desperate to throw one last-ditch attempt to cover me from the Fae Queen, he neglected to think two steps ahead.
He didn’t earn my parents’ freedom. He just made it so that he threw his own away.
I won’t let him do that.
“Perhaps you’re willing to negotiate with me now. Things are going so wonderfully for me today, I’ll even bargain for Ninetroir. What do you say?”
I’ll do anything to bring him back. I can’t even pretend that Nine doesn’t mean something to me—I just kissed him in front of the whole Seelie Court, and there’s no going back from that. She’s got me right where she wants me.
Negotiate?
Ha.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing now. For your parents’ freedom, I insist on the earlier conditions. You in my garden where I can ensure you won’t trouble me. But for your precious mate? Let’s just say that I’d reserve a favor to call in at my leisure. So, do we have a deal?”
Shadow (Touched by the Fae Book 2) Page 21