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

by Jessica Lynch

  “But what if I’d rather go to yours?”

  “You’d only make it harder for me to resist. But I must. Rest, Leannán. Sleep. There’s no rush.”

  He’s not wrong. Now that I know that one of the perks of living in Faerie and being addicted to the faerie fruit is a nearly immortal life among the faerie folk… there really is no rush.

  But I also don’t want to walk away from Rys right now. Not after he told me he wants me to stay with him.

  “I’m not that tired,” I begin to say, but when my words are swallowed by a huge, honking yawn, I realize that I might be fibbing a little.

  Rys chuckles, then runs his hand along the length of my jaw. He waits until I finish my yawn, then eases my mouth closed. “I won’t use any dust, but that’s only because I know I don’t have to.”

  I press a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You know I hate you, right?”

  “Of course,” he says, opening my door and carrying me inside of my room. “And it gives me great pleasure to know that my darling human lies as easily as she loves me.”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah.

  He places me down on my bed. And I know that he didn’t dust me, but the second my ass hits the comfy mattress, I feel as weak and boneless as I did that night in the Shadow Realm.

  Okay. He’s got a point.

  I’m fucking beat.

  “Mm. Stay with me, Rys?”

  He’s down by my feet, removing my boots. As soon as he’s taken off one, he sets it on the floor before stroking the bare skin of my ankle between the hem of my jeans and my sock.

  His touch is comforting. Soothing.

  I snuggle into my pillow. “Please?”

  “I’ll stay until you’re sleeping, Leannán. And then we’ll talk more when you’re awake.” He eases off my second boot. “Do we have a deal?”

  I think I say yes. I might’ve.

  At least, I hope so.

  I sleep for two days straight, only waking up to eat the faerie fruit Lolly brings me so that I don’t get sick.

  I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was. The Shadow Realm was draining for any of the Seelie, but I never thought it would affect me as much as it did.

  I’m still in my room. Despite our conversation after we first arrived back at his home, Rys has made no move to treat me as something more than just a houseguest.

  At first, I thought it was because he could tell how done I was. And it wasn’t just that I was sleepy. I needed to deal with my feelings when it came to Jim. Didn’t matter that I went into this mission wondering how I was going to end our relationship. I guess I just never thought I’d lose all of it at the same time.

  It’s for the best. At least, I keep telling myself that. I deserve to be the one who remembers every minute of our time together, the good and the bad. Rys tried to tell me it was fate—that, if I was meant to be his, and Morgan considered Jim hers, that this was all supposed to happen—but I’m not fae. It’s not as easy for me to process everything that happened the same way as it is for him.

  Rys spent his whole life ruled by his prophecy. I mean, he still is. Despite admitting that he still wants me, that he still thinks of me as his mate, it doesn’t seem as if he’s going to do anything about it because of that stupid prophecy.

  Which means that it’s up to me.

  On the third day, I get up, indulge in the longest shower that I’ve probably taken ever, and pull on one of the outfits Rys had made for me. I stored my human clothes—my tank, my jeans, my boots—into a drawer of their own for safekeeping. My leather jacket is hanging off the crystal doorknob of the shower box. Even though I’ve long accepted that I live in Faerie now, I’ll never get rid of it. Who knows when I’ll need it for another trip into the Shadow Realm?

  I decide that it’s about time to get back to real life. I should let Lolly know that I’ll be coming down to breakfast, and then maybe I can start a new painting. My brain is filled with so many images from our last adventure that I’m itching to get some of them down on canvas.

  Oh, and maybe I’ll search for Rys, and see what he’s up to...

  Right before I reach the closed door of my room, I hear a knock. Hope swells in my chest, but I keep my voice steady as I call out, “Yes?”

  “Leannán?”

  Rys.

  I fling open the door, all my hope dying a super sudden death when I see the serious expression on his face.

  Ah, shit. What now?

  “What’s up?”

  “Lolly just informed me that we have a visitor. Will you please come down to the sitting room with me?”

  I’m not really used to Rys asking me to do anything. Not like I can refuse him, though, even if I really, really want to.

  A visitor? Who can it be?

  After I nod, he leads me down the spiral staircase, right into the fancy front room where he meets all of his guests. I guess it’s the sitting room. I never knew it had a name before, and, yeah, I’m totally distracting myself because I have the sudden urge to bolt back up the stairs when I see the commanding Seelie captain waiting for us.

  Despite the name, Helix isn’t sitting. He’s standing in the middle of the space, his hands folded behind his back. His sword is sheathed as his hip, but I’m not fooled. With Helix, it’s never just a friendly visit.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  And how much trouble would I be in if I just ran away right now?

  “Helix. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Looks like Rys is wondering the same exact thing, only he says it in that quaint fae way that he has. It still means what the hell are you doing here?

  “Oberon received your message. Good work, soldier.”

  Huh?

  At my sudden and obvious confusion, Rys tells me, “I sent off Morgan’s missive while you were resting.” He turns to Helix. “I did what I had to prove myself to the king. The Winter Queen is open to peace. She isn’t anything like Melisandre was. She doesn’t want his crown.”

  “She doesn’t even want her own,” I add.

  Helix raises his eyebrows. I… don’t think he appreciated that.

  Hey. It’s true, isn’t it?

  Rys reaches around me, laying his hand on my hip. “Why have you come? Does Oberon want to see us? I told him I’d report in person as soon as I could bring Elle with me.”

  For a moment, Helix’s dark gold eyes linger on the point where Rys’s palm rests at my side. He frowns, then clears his throat. “The Summer King has decided that you’ve done enough for now. He’s busy making arrangements to meet with the Winter Queen, but he expects you to come around to the palace when Morrigan finally arrives.“ He pauses for just a second, then nods at me. “The human, too. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  So do I.

  Oberon is the all-powerful king of the Seelie. Before we left for our mission in the Shadow Realm, he insisted that I had an important part to play. Didn’t matter that I was human. I had to go along.

  Jim, too. Can’t forget that. Oberon told Rys that there was a reason why Jim had to join us. And he was right, wasn’t he?

  So of course he’s going to want me around when Morgan finally leaves the sanctity of the Shadow Realm to meet with him. I’m probably the closest thing to a friend that she has, and Oberon would want to use that to his advantage.

  Again.

  But that’s something future Helen can worry about. Present Helen? She wants to know why Helix came all this way here to tell us that when he could’ve sent a message just like Rys did.

  As if he can read my mind, Helix lifts his gaze, locking eyes with me.

  I gulp.

  17

  There’s something about the Seelie captain. After everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve seen, he still scares the shit out of me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the cold way he ordered my imprisonment, or how he calmly led the chained prisoners to their execution. And let’s not forgot the fact that, the last time we met, he thre
atened me with a stint in Samradh if I didn’t do what the king wanted.

  Dusk is gone, I remind myself. Even if Helix follows through on his threat, I also know firsthand that it’s possible to stage a break-out from the Unseelie prison.

  Okay. Bring it on, Helix. Do your freaking worst.

  He lifts his hand. Without a word, he uses his pointer finger to draw a small square in the air in front of him. Reaching inside, the captain takes a small, wooden box from inside of the hovering portal.

  Talk about déjà vu. The first time we met, Helix pulled the same stunt. Using his Seelie magic to create a small pocket, he retrieved the box of iron cuffs that he made me put on myself.

  On the plus side, this box looks way too small to hold the thick, heavy handcuffs.

  Then again, I can’t help but remember what Rys told me all those months ago.

  In Faerie, trust no one.

  Well, except for him. For better or for worse, I trust him.

  Sure as fuck don’t trust Helix, though.

  “What is it?” I ask, not even trying to keep the suspicion out of my tone.

  “Siúcra asked me to bring this back to you. I said I would.”

  “You talk to the prison?”

  He sniffs. “You can’t?”

  I start to say no, then realize that I’d totally be lying. The day we escaped, in order to leave through its ominous gate, I made my sacrifice—but, before I did, I heard a booming voice echoing inside of my head. It was definitely the prison. No wonder everybody spoke about Siúcra as it was a living being instead of just a fairy jail.

  “Fair enough. But what’s inside?”

  Helix pops open the lid.

  I just about stop breathing when I see the small, silver ring nestled on a bed of cotton. The last time I saw it, I was wrestling it off my finger, leaving it behind as a token of my sacrifice to the infamous Faerie prison.

  “Take it.”

  I… I don’t know if I want to.

  I can feel Rys squeezing my hip. I don’t know if he’s silently telling me to grab it, or if it was an involuntary reaction because he’s just as shocked at what Helix is offering me as I am.

  “Siúcra released you from your imprisonment when it accepted your sacrifice,” Helix says. “The Summer King has given you a full pardon in exchange for your meeting with Morrigan. You’ve been freed.”

  “What does that mean? Can I…”

  Shit. I don’t even know what I was about to say. Go home? Sometime in the last few weeks, Faerie has become my new home. Go back to Jim? Even if that was possible—and, courtesy of his trade, it’s not—I know I couldn’t. Not now that I’ve discovered that I’ve always been fated to be with Rys.

  And it’s not about his prophecy. Not really. I fell hard for Rys when he was my scarred Seelie cellmate and I was willing to do whatever I could to get him to take me with him if he ever escaped the prison.

  Now I’m willing to do whatever I have to to stay with him.

  Helix moves the box closer. Because I know that the captain isn’t going to stop until I do, I snatch the silver ring from the box. I don’t put it on, though. I can’t. Instead, I slip it into my pocket. I’ll figure out what to do with it later.

  He snaps the lid shut. “I also have a message for you from Oberon.”

  Oh, great. “Um. Okay.”

  “The False Queen was never his ffrindau, but she was his mate.” Helix glances over at Rys. “The message was for your human, but you should think on that as well, soldier.”

  “Are we done?” Rys demands.

  The captain nods.

  And I have no idea what just happened.

  Oberon’s words keep running through my mind.

  Melisandre wasn’t his ffrindau, but she was his mate. The partner he chose—even if the Summer King chose wrong—and the woman he promised to cherish forever.

  Well, until she stole his throne, tried to kill him by trapping him in the human world, and he repaid her by lopping off her head.

  I get it. I’m pretty sure I understand why he passed that message to me and Rys through Helix. Oberon has always been one step ahead of everyone, almost as if the Summer King knows what’s going to happen to all of us before it does. Not that I believe that. If he could, wouldn’t he have foreseen the whole being betrayed by his own mate thing?

  Unless it only works on everyone else...

  Huh.

  Fate. It all comes down to fate, doesn’t it? But even though Rys seems to agree with Oberon, he’s still trapped by the prophecy that has affected his life for so damn long.

  And, you know, there’s one line of the prophecy that I never really understood. She’ll be freed with a lie… if I’m the chick in the prophecy, then I’ve got to be the ‘she’ the soothsayer was talking about. And I’ve got the human blood, the sunshine hair, sky-blue eyes. The daisy chain tattooed to my skin that, to the fae, seems to be painted on.

  And now I’ve been freed. Helix told me so. Oberon granted me my freedom, but what’s the lie?

  Maybe I’m thinking too literally. I mean, it’s not like my hair is really sunshine. Besides, the fae can’t lie—but that doesn’t mean they tell the truth. It’s just that they want you to believe that it is.

  Or, in the case of Rys, he believes it.

  I’m not his ffrindau. Ever since he sacrificed me to escape Siúcra, he’s accepted that and acted like there’s no possible way we can be together. Even if he promises that I can stay with him, live with him, can I really do that and not want him to touch me?

  To love me?

  Not even a little.

  I have to figure out how to get him to agree to claim me for once and for all. None of this wishy-washy bullshit where he treats me like a guest one second, then decides that he wants me to be his… until he pushes me away for my own good. After we left Jim with Morgan, I thought that everything was going back to the way it was before.

  But it hasn’t, and it only gets worse after Helix’s unexpected visit.

  He goes back to the Rys he was when Jim was staying in the manor. We see each other at mealtimes, but that’s about all. I don’t know what he’s doing during the day—though I doubt he’s going to meet with Oberon, he’s definitely going somewhere—and I keep to myself, pouring all of my frustrations into my art.

  One night, about a week later, I’m in a particularly foul mood. I ate dinner by myself, even though Lolly told me that Rys was on his way back to the manor. He told her not to wait for him before she set the table, and to pass on his apologies to me that he was missing dinner.

  I hurried through my meal, then return to my room. Because I’m super frustrated—and in more ways than one—I decide to start a brand new painting. I throw up a fresh canvas and think about what I’m visualizing.

  For some strange reason, I think back to the Faerie Market. Both times I was on the auction block, the scene of the faceless crowd, hidden by the shadows, silhouetted by the torches… it was fucking terrible. I’ve had nightmares about it ever since and, considering the mood I’m in, I decide to confront my fear by ripping it out of my memory and throwing it up on the canvas.

  Maybe it’s not the healthiest way to approach it, but, hey. Call it my defense mechanism.

  I reach for a jar of paint, grab my palette. It’s habit, reaching for the right brushes, prepping my color palette, working out the scene I want to paint before I actually commit it to the canvas. As I do so, the motions almost mechanical, I’m still back at the Faerie Market.

  Not on the stage, though. I think of the cramped tent where the redcap kept the cages and he did his business, selling those unfortunate enough to end up on the block to their highest bidders.

  I drop the jar of paint in my hand. It opens on impact, the opalescent color spilling out on the floor, but I barely notice.

  Holy. Shit.

  Can it—

  No—

  Maybe?

  I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to figure this out. Probably beca
use, all along, I’ve been thinking like a human. But while I’ll never be anything else, I’m part of Faerie now. If I want to survive—if I want to thrive—then I have to think like one of the faerie folk.

  It might work. I mean, it’s my best shot. My only shot, really.

  Hopping over the mess I made, I dash over to my dresser. I yank out my jeans, shoving my hand in the right-hand pocket. It’s gotta be in here. No matter how many times I’ve worn these jeans, I’ve held onto it just in case I ever needed it. Where is it? Where is it—

  Yes!

  I pull out the tiny bag that I got off the imps all of those weeks ago. Fisting it tightly, I toss my jeans back into their drawer. I don’t even bother closing it. I just hold onto the bag and run out of my room, racing straight to Rys’s closed door. I don’t knock because I’m not about to give Rys the chance to turn me away. I just hope he’s back, that he’s inside.

  Fingers crossed.

  I take a second to settle myself before shoving the door open.

  Rys is sitting at his desk, his head bowed over a stack of papers. His head lifts as soon as the door swings inward, an annoyed expression flashing across his face before he realizes that I’m the one who’s disturbing him.

  He shifts in his seat before standing up. He walks over to me, wearing the same closed-off look that makes me want to scream. “Leannán? I thought you were in bed already. Is everything alright?”

  If everything goes according to my plan, it will be.

  I’ve always been impulsive. Jim accused me of jumping headfirst into things more than once, and the fact that I’m trapped in Faerie is proof of that. If I had thought twice before I walked through the fairy circle in the first place, my whole life never would’ve been turned upside down at the same time as the world went sideways.

  Then again, I never would’ve met Rys. And if I had to go through it all to find my soul mate, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  So maybe I’m not just impulsive. Maybe this really is fate.