Freed: A Supernatural Prison Romance (Imprisoned by the Fae Book 3)

by Jessica Lynch

  That’s weird. I didn’t have any trouble last time, and when I tested the nearest thorn, my fingertip sunk right into it.

  But maybe I didn’t push far enough to see if it resisted me.

  Huh.

  “Let me see.” I move past him, doing the same thing with my hand in case it really is as solid as it appears. As soon as my fingers slip a few inches inside the shadows, disappearing down past the first knuckle, I turn to look at him. “I can go through.”

  Riley hesitates before extending her gloved hand. As if the shadows recognize her for who—and what—she is, they immediately welcome her inside of them. They swallow her arm up to her elbow. She turns back to look at Nine and shrugs. “I’m okay.”

  That’s so weird. I can go in. Riley can. But Nine…

  Wait a second.

  “Are you going to hurt Morgan?”

  Nine’s lips thinned. Crap. I’ve offended him. “Why would you think I would?”

  “I don’t. But she told me once that I could only get through her barrier because the shadows knew I didn’t mean her any harm. So, maybe if you tell them that you’re not a threat to her, they’ll let you in.”

  Because, if he says it out loud, it’s as good as a vow.

  I can tell that Nine is going to refuse. He probably thinks I’m being ridiculous. That, or he doesn’t want to be held to such a promise. Which is crazy because why would he want to hurt a lonely Unseelie female he’s never met?

  However, before he does something he can’t take back, Riley lays her hand on his arm. “Come on, Nine. You’re the Shadow Man. Talk to the shadows.”

  He huffs. “Very well. I wish your mistress no harm. Now can I enter?”

  His mate tugs him toward the barrier. “Try it.”

  He does and, wouldn’t you know, it freaking works.

  Score one for Helen.

  I turn to Rys. “Your turn.”

  Rys shakes his head. “I’ll wait outside.”

  “By yourself? Why?”

  “I’m sorry, Leannán, and believe me. I also mean your friend no harm. But Nine’s right. Whoever made these shadows is very powerful indeed. If I go any closer, it’ll be as if I walked the Iron at night.”

  Hang on. I know this. If one of the Seelie crosses the veil into the Iron—into the human world—they can only survive during daylight, just like how the Unseelie rule the night. It has something to do with how actual iron amplifies the fae’s core traits. In Faerie, the Seelie draw their power from light: fire, sunshine, summer. Things like that. The Unseelie are the opposite, of course, thriving in the cold and the dark. An Unseelie, like Nine, would burn beneath the sun—literally—while Rys had to cross back into Faerie before night fell.

  Now, Nine’s an anomaly. He lives in the human world because of Riley, and it took him a really freaking long time to get used to the iron and the light before he was comfortable existing there. For a fully charged Seelie like Rys, if he walked around the human world at night, he could die.

  He’s telling me that the power coming off of Morgan’s barrier is strong enough to kill him.

  Oh, hell no.

  I back away. “Okay. Never mind. Forget it. Let’s just go.”

  “Where are we going now?”

  Shit. Jim.

  He needs to rest. He needs to wash up. And, if I know Morgan as well as I thought I did, she’ll be more than willing to help a human in need.

  This time, I have to choose Jim.

  “Where? Come on. We’re going inside.”

  13

  I go first. Jim’s barely a step behind me, and he reaches for my hand right before we head straight into the shadows.

  It still doesn’t feel… right. Like, the curve of his calloused hand is familiar, but it’s wrong. I can’t bring myself to shake him off, though. Especially after his last experience with such intimidating shadows, of course he’s looking for a little reassurance. I do my best to give it to him.

  As soon as we break through, I slip my hand out of his. It’s not even on purpose. I’m so freaking relieved to see the dark-haired, pale beauty sitting peacefully on her porch, almost as if she’s been waiting for us.

  Who knows? Maybe she is.

  I can’t believe it. She’s… she’s okay. She really did make it out of the Faerie Market in one piece.

  She’s okay.

  Morgan climbs up from her seat. “Elle, is that you?”

  “Morgan!”

  “Elle!”

  We meet in the middle of the walkway. I’m wearing a smile so wide, my cheeks can feel it. Can’t help it, though. I guess I didn’t realize how worried I was that something terrible happened to her until I finally set eyes on her again.

  “I’m so glad to see you again! Once I made it back to the Shadow Realm, I just had to stop by.” I gesture behind me. “I hope it’s okay that I brought some friends.”

  I’m just about to make introductions when Nine lets out an amused chuckle that has all of us looking back at him. In all the time I’ve known him, I think it’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh. Even Riley seems surprised at his sudden burst of humor.

  “Morrigan. You’re Morrigan. I should’ve known when we heard the whispers in Samradh.” He shakes his head. “Morgan. Hiding in plain sight, aren’t you?”

  For the first time that I’ve ever seen, Morgan loses some of her good humor. Her silvery Unseelie eyes sparkle angrily, a dark look flashing across her otherworldly beautiful features. “With an enemy like Melisandre, what else should I have done?”

  “The Fae Queen is gone. There’s no reason for you to hide any longer.”

  I’m so freaking confused. What are they talking about? “What’s going on? Morgan?”

  “Are you going to tell her, or should I?”

  Completely ignoring Nine, she faces me again. “Elle, I’ve missed you so—”

  “I guess that means me. Riley. Elle. Jim. This is Morrigan, the Winter Queen.”

  I… I had to have heard that wrong.

  “Excuse me?”

  Her silver eyes turn molten. “I knew I should’ve kept you on the other side of the barrier. The one time I let an Unseelie into my home and he brings up ancient history.”

  “Ancient history? It’s only been two hundred years.”

  I have to remind myself that Nine’s fae because, to me, two hundred years is ancient history.

  “Two hundred years that I’ve managed to keep my head because I stayed out of it after Melisandre stole my throne, then her mate’s. No. It doesn’t matter that Oberon got his revenge at last. As I recall, he’s almost as bad as she was. I’ve earned my peace. I’m Morgan now. Not Morrigan.”

  “You can’t run from your destiny, Morrigan.”

  “You’re lucky I choose not to be queen. Otherwise, as one of my subjects, I could have you killed for your disrespect.”

  Nine meets her stare, completely nonplussed. “You could try.”

  Am I in the freaking twilight zone or something? Is this really happening? Morgan—the sweet Unseelie that became my friend—is the Winter Queen we’ve been sent to find? And, instead of showing her respect, Nine is basically daring her to try and lop off of his head?

  Riley doesn’t even look a little surprised at this turn of events. At first, I think it has to do with Nine and maybe something he told her, until she shrugs. “The Winter Queen is a hermit. Sure. Why not?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I mean, Oberon was a homeless guy when I met him in Acorn Falls.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “What can I tell you? The fae are weird.”

  That’s putting it mildly.

  Nine’s frowning, like something just occurred to him. “What do you mean, choose not to be queen? As the last of the line of Mab, you’re queen. There’s no choice involved.”

  “Of course there is. Remember, Melisandre was kin to Mab, too. My cousin. She made her choice. And look what happened to her. I may live far from Scáth, but the rumors sti
ll reach me, even in the depths of the Shadow Realm.”

  “The Reign of the Damned was cursed from the beginning. Melisandre didn’t deserve to be the Winter Queen, but she tipped the balance by masquerading as one of the Seelie. She had too much power.”

  On that, Morgan obviously agrees. “Faerie can’t have one ruler. It never ends well. And now the Summer King tries.”

  “Oberon doesn’t want to be Fae King,” Nine corrects her. “That’s why we’re here. He sent us on a mission to offer peace to the Unseelie Court’s rightful ruler. You.”

  “You’re mistaken.

  “There must be balance.”

  Morgan pursed her lips. “No. There hasn’t been balance in two hundred years.”

  “There can be now,” insists Nine. “Oberon wants to be the Summer King, not the Fae King. But there can be no Summer King without a Winter Queen.”

  That makes sense to me. From the way Morgan stays quiet a moment, she’s probably thinking along the same lines.

  And then she says, “Why should I believe you? You served under Melisandre.”

  “I did,” Nine admits. “But only because I was working against her.”

  “What about the Seelie lurking outside of my curtain? Was he loyal to the False Queen?”

  It’s my turn to jump into their conversation. “You can sense Rys? You know he’s out there?”

  How?

  Morgan nods over at me, an indulging smile on her face. “I can. But don’t worry, Elle. I recognize him from the brand on your skin. You’ve claimed that one. So long as he’s with you, he’s safe in my woods, even if he once served Melisandre.”

  Um. Sure.

  “So is your human friend.” Her gaze slides behind me, finally finding Jim. “Oh.” Her smile goes from indulging to blinding. “Hello.”

  When Jim doesn’t say anything, I turn to see what’s up. He’s normally not so rude, and even if he’s still dealing with… well, everything… I thought he would at least be polite and say hello.

  That’s when I realize why he’s been so quiet.

  He’s staring. Like he’s been struck dumb, he’s watching Morgan so closely, I don’t even think he’s blinking.

  I elbow him. “Jim. Say hi.”

  He jumps, his tanned skin turning a bright red beneath his cuts. Holy shit. Now he’s blushing.

  “Oh. Sorry. Hi. I’m Jim.”

  “Morgan.” Her smile dims just a little. “What happened to your face?”

  His hand lifts to his cheek. “Oh. This.”

  “Actually, Morgan,” I say, dragging her attention back to me, “that’s why I came back to your place. Yeah, we’ve been searching for the Winter Queen”—and I still can’t believe that it’s Morgan—“but after what happened to Jim…” I hesitate. I don’t want to bring it up again if it’ll only hurt him. “I knew you were nearby. I was hoping you could help him.”

  “For you, Elle, I would. Consider it my repaying my debt to you.”

  Debt? “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Maybe if I had been able to save you from the Faerie Market, I’d agree with you. I’m glad you’re well. By the time I went back for you, they told me you were already—”

  “It’s okay,” I say loudly. No way do I want Jim to hear that I was sold on the auction block. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She gets the hint. “Yes. Well. I’ll gladly take care of the human for you.” She gestures to Jim. “Please. Come inside.”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  Huh. It was that easy? Jim doesn’t even turn back to look at me, or see if I’m going with him.

  That… that’s different.

  Before I can really focus on that, Nine comes up next to me. He can’t touch me, since I never gave him permission, but as he jerks his head away from the front of Morgan’s cottage, I get the gist. I follow him until we hit the inner barrier of the shadow, Riley right behind us.

  “I assume you didn’t know.”

  I snort. It just slips out. “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned that the Winter Queen we’ve been told to find is the same person as the friend that I’ve been talking about for ages now?”

  “I don’t know. Would you?”

  “Nine,” scolds Riley. “Be nice.”

  “I’ll try, my mate. It’s just… this changes things. Tell me, Elle. How did you find Morrigan in the first place?”

  I open my mouth. Stop.

  Oof.

  How to explain?

  I glance over my shoulder, making sure that Morgan and Jim are safely inside. Then, keeping my voice low, I tell Riley and Nine all about my “debt” to Grimly and all the crazy tasks he made me do in order to pay it off.

  As soon as I’m done, Nine says the last thing I expect.

  “Can you call him?”

  “Who? The gnome?”

  Nine nods.

  “I… I don’t know. I mean, I have the name he gave me, but I don’t think it’s his real name or anything.” And this is Faerie. Even if my cell phone wasn’t the first casualty during my stay, I can’t exactly call Grimly… can I?

  “You haven’t been in Faerie long enough. Some of the lower races… they don’t guard their names as well as they should. He very well could’ve given you his name. And if you have his name—”

  “I can summon him here and ask him why he was trying to use me to get to the Winter Queen.” Because I’m willing to bet my leather jacket that he knew who she was when he told me I had to steal a strand of hair from her head. “But why?”

  “We won’t know until you call him, will we?”

  Spoken like a true fae.

  While I stay with Riley inside of the shadow barrier, Nine slips back outside. I know he’s gone to talk to Rys about everything I just told him. I would’ve done it myself except he points out that I should be waiting for Morgan to come back out with Jim.

  Oh. Right.

  He’s definitely perked up by the time she finishes up with him. I notice she’s wearing her gloves when the two of them come back outside to the porch. Jim has shiny cream smeared all over his cuts; half of them have already healed completely. She must have pulled on her gloves to avoid touching him.

  She invites us inside, but before anyone can accept her invitation, I quickly say, “We’d love to, but first we have to check in with Rys. You know. My… the Seelie.”

  “Jim? What about you?”

  Jim looks from Morgan to me and back. He gives an apologetic shrug. “I should probably go with Hel.”

  Could he sound any less enthusiastic if he tried?

  What… what’s that about?

  I don’t know. And maybe I’m just being terrible because, right now, I can’t really deal with that. Not when I have something else I have to do.

  Morgan’s bright silver eyes seem to dim a little, but she offers a small wave as we leave.

  I wish we could tell her what we’re up to but Nine made it clear that it would only hurt our chances to get Morgan to agree to see Oberon without some kind of leverage. And, even though I can’t stop thinking of her as the Unseelie I got to know while I was all alone in the Shadow Realm, I have to keep remembering that she isn’t just Morgan. She’s Morrigan, the Winter Queen, and unless I want my own trip to Samradh, I have to focus on fulfilling this mission for Oberon.

  So what if Dusk is no longer a threat? I still don’t want to end up in fairy jail again.

  The three of us push through the shadows, ending up in the clearing just outside of Morgan’s barrier. Rys is there, so’s Nine, and as soon as we’re back on the other side with them, Rys asks me to see if I can call Grimly.

  It has to be me. If it is his true name, then I’m the one he gave it to. Anyone can hear it, know it, say it, but unless they were given it, it doesn’t count.

  Welp. Here goes nothing.

  I repeat what Nine told me to say:

  “I call on Grimly. Grimly the gnome.” And then, just in case it makes a difference, “Ol’ Grimly.”

  That
last one was my idea. Despite Nine—being the elitist fae he is—believing that the lower races weren’t as smart, I know Grimly. He’s way trickier than that. If he gave me his name, no way do I think it’s just Grimly. But ‘ol’ Grimly’... he seemed to call himself that a lot.

  And, holy freaking shit, it works! Like magic—and, okay, I guess it is magic—within seconds of my call, the air splits and, suddenly, there he is.

  He even has his stupid pipe.

  “Ah, girly. And here ol’ Grimly thought that you’d given up on retrieving my hair.”

  “I did.” I can’t even try to be pleasant. After all the shit he put me through, if it wasn’t for this stupid mission, I would’ve been happy never seeing him again. “But that’s why I called you here. I want to know why you wanted all that stuff you had me get. The plum… the feather… and Morgan’s hair.”

  “But it wasn’t me. It was my buyer.” He puffs on his pipe once, then slips it under his cloak, orange smoke and all. When it’s gone, he shows his empty hands in a mockery of a “who, me?” gesture. “I’m a collector. For the right price, I’ll try to collect anything for anyone. And, if I can’t...”

  He doesn’t even have to finish that thought. If he can’t, he’ll trick unsuspecting humans to do it for him.

  Of course.

  “Then who’s your buyer?”

  “You don’t think I’ll just tell you that, do you? Without any kind of deal or trade?”

  I have his name. “I can compel you. Ol’ Grimly—”

  His laugh is like nails on a chalkboard to me. “That ain’t gonna work.”

  Damn it. “Okay. Then what will?

  “A memory for a memory, girly. Since you welshed on your debt, that’s the only bargain I’ll be making today.”

  “I didn’t—”

  The gnome holds up his finger. “Ah, but you agreed to my three tasks. You only finished two. Unless you want to complete the third…”

  I don’t. “Okay. What memory do you want?”

  “Elle.” Rys’s lyrical voice drops so low, I barely recognize that he’s the one who called my name. “I can’t let you do that. He says a memory for a memory, but it’ll be in his favor. We might find out who is starting trouble on this side of the Court’s divide, but what will it cost you?”