He hears me. “Depends.”
What kind of answer is that? I jerk my head away from him, tilting it back so that I can look up into his face. “Depends? On what?”
“Are we talking about a touch?” Rys brushes his fingers along the side of my neck, leaving a shock of tingles where our flesh meets. “Or what we did last night?”
Last night… it’s still so fresh in my mind.
Before I reached for Rys, I justified it by assuring myself that getting so close to him will only help convince him that I’m worth saving, too. Did it work? I think so.
I don’t know.
This is all so new to me. I’ve only ever been with one other guy. My Jim. He was my first and I would’ve thought he’d be my only.
The thing is I wanted to sleep with Rys. I never lost control, even when the overwhelming pleasure had me wondering if I should put a stop to it. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy it as much as I did.
As much as it seemed like it was inevitable, it was also supposed to be a means to an end—or that’s what I told myself when I was in the oubliette, conning him into touching me.
And now I’m sitting in his lap, knowing that my sex life is spreading like wildfire throughout the prison, still wearing Jim’s promise ring on my finger, and I actually have the nerve to be jealous about Rys's previous lovers.
I’m fucking awful.
“Never mind.” I climb out of his lap because, honestly, this is the last place I should be right now. “Forget I asked.”
He lets me go which is almost a gut punch in and of itself. In the oubliette, he was desperate to keep me close. Just now, he said he needed to hold me. So what changed?
I don’t know. I—
Rys’s voice cuts into the whirl of my confusion.
“I stole a touch.”
Even though I know I’m stuck in the cell with him and it’s not like I can go anywhere else, I’m halfway to the bars when his comment stops me.
I don’t turn back around. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been gifted one before. I stole one. Does that count?”
That has me swiveling on my heel. Rys is standing directly behind me. I’m not expecting him to be so close and I jump. As I land, he steadies me with his hands on my arms, a half-smile tugging on his scar.
Lord help me, is he sexy.
“Does it count, Leannán?”
I shake my head. “I… don’t think so.”
His grin widens. “Then there you have it.” His right hand slides down my leather sleeve before gripping my hand loosely with his fingers. With a gentle tug, he pulls me with him, leading me toward the cot.
I jerk my hand out of his. “No. I know what you’re thinking about right now. We can’t do that again.”
His eyebrows rise. “Why not?”
Good question.
I know I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite since I’m the one who instigated everything that happened between us, but now that it actually meant something to me, I can’t do it again.
It’s one thing to use my body as a tool. It’s something totally different when there are feelings involved.
And… I definitely feel something for Rys.
Now that his hands are off of me, I immediately reach for the ring finger on my left hand. It’s a nervous tic and I don’t even realize I’m doing it until Rys’s gaze follows the action, but suddenly I’m twisting my promise ring.
Oops.
“Is he stopping you?”
My heart skips a beat. “Huh?”
“I’ve wondered about that band since I first met you, Leannán. In Faerie, we have other ways to claim our mates, but I know you’re human. It means you have a male already, doesn’t it?”
He doesn’t sound surprised. He also has the strangest note to his voice. Almost conversational. Like we’re bullshitting about last night’s Mets game or something, not the fact that Jim’s waiting for me back home and I totally slept with Rys anyway.
When I don’t answer him, he says, “Is he your mate?”
What a strange question. Since I feel like I owe Rys the truth, I try to put my twisted emotions into words. “I… kinda? I don’t know. He’s my boyfriend. I’ve been with him since I was in high school.”
“Boyfriend. High school,” scoffs Rys. “Human terms. Tell me this: is he your soul mate?”
“I thought he was.”
“If you don’t know for sure, then he isn’t.” Rys shrugs, as if it’s as simple as that.
“It… it doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? He’s not your mate. Zella wasn’t mine. But you’re here and so am I.” He pauses for a heartbeat before asking, “Do you regret it?”
That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?
And he’s not talking about Jim anymore. When he asks me if I regret it, he’s referring to last night.
“I… no. I probably should, but I don’t. And I won’t lie about that.”
“That’s my girl.” He lifts my hand, rubbing his thumb along the band of my promise ring. “You’re in Faerie now, Leannán. With me. Leave him in the Iron.”
He’s right. Even I can admit that.
And, this time, when Rys starts to lead me toward the cot, I let him.
Day twenty-seven.
I come to with a start, the number flashing in the back of my mind. I don’t get the chance to say it though, because, as my eyes fly open, Rys covers my mouth with his hand.
I’m lying flat on my back. His body is curved around mine, his back to the cell door. I can barely make out his expression. It’s still dark out in the prison, the torches beginning to wind down. Shit. It’s the middle of the night.
What’s going on?
With the tiniest jerk of his head, Rys wordlessly implores me to be silent. As if the hand clamped over my mouth isn’t a big, honking clue that’s something’s up. But I… I trust him and, as soon as I get my frantically beating heart under control, I nod.
He pulls his hand back, forming a fist with one finger extended. Rys puts that finger to his lip. I nod a second time and that’s when I realize that we’re not alone.
I can’t see them around the shape of Rys’s body, but when I pay attention to their conversation, I recognize the two voices without even making out their faces, though I never knew the name of the cruel Unseelie male. When Saxon greets the other guard, I make sure to remember it.
“Evening, Coal.”
“Saxon. What are you doing in this wing? I thought you were patrolling down by some of the lower races.”
“I was. Kyr took over that side and let me off early. I was cutting through to my quarters.”
“Interesting. Long way to take to your quarters. Are you sure you’re not sneaking down to visit Posey?”
“I’m sure, especially since I’d wager that’s where you’re coming from yourself.”
A hollow laugh from the Unseelie guard. “As sharp as ever. I’m off duty and she’s willing. No harm.”
Saxon’s voice doesn’t sound like he agrees with that, even though he says, “Of course.”
“Anyway, perhaps it’s luck that has us crossing paths tonight. I was wondering if you’ve had the chance to think over my proposition. It’s been gathering steam lately. Some of us knew that the Fae Queen was Unseelie in disguise and enjoyed the way she stole the Summer King’s throne. The Reign of the Damned was very lucrative for a while. This new rebellion should be doubly so.”
“I wouldn’t say that so loud.”
“Why?” Saxon must’ve made a gesture toward us or something because Coal scoffs. “You’re worried about the traitor? If Oberon cared about the queen’s prisoners, he would’ve either freed this one or had him executed with the rest.”
“What about the girl?”
“Human. There’s only one good use for them and that’s as a slave.” Coal’s scoff turns into a dark chuckle. “Oberon is soft on the humans. He spent two hundred years among them. I can’t wait to see his face wh
en he realizes that he’ll be their downfall.”
“I thought the point of the rebellion was to cause him to lose the throne.”
“Oh, it is. The Summer King survived Brinkburn, but the Fae Queen proves that a blade doesn’t discriminate. Without his head, however will he wear his crown?”
“Coal.”
“What? It’s the truth. But even before his execution, the order’s been made. Any human with ties to Faerie is to be killed in the name of the rebellion, starting with the Shadow. Her fae blood won’t save her. If she steps foot past the veil again, not even Ninetroir will save her halfling head from meeting the blade.”
“Yes, but what about her?”
I go absolutely still. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m the her Saxon mentions.
“Siúcra claims souls all the time. If anything happens to her and Captain Helix actually cares, he’ll understand. Oh, Saxon. Don’t look at me like that. She’s just a human. Besides, after what she did to Dusk, she’s lucky to have survived the shadows.” He makes a soft derisive noise that scares me as much as it makes me angry. “Though I guess she didn’t survive the traitor.”
After that comment, everything becomes white noise. Or maybe their conversation comes to a close. Possible. They could be quiet, or maybe the silence of my stunned, frightened brain is too loud. All I know is that, when they move away from our cell a few minutes later, I’m on the edge of my control.
Me? I’m vibrating in place, anxious to get up. To do something. Anything. To pace? Pacing sounds good. But I don’t. I stay on the bed, watching Rys, pleading with him to make sense of this, waiting for some sign that this is all a dream.
But it’s not. And, hell, I’m not in Kansas anymore.
Together, we hear the whoosh of the door dissolve, followed by the soft steps as the two guards continue on their way together. Rys still doesn’t move. I feel like screaming, but I stay silent.
It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
Minutes pass. The torches finally die out as the sliver of daylight peeks in from the narrow windows above the hallways. The fairy lights wink back on.
Finally, Rys nods. He climbs out of the cot. I pop up like a freaking Jack-in-the-Box.
He checks that we’re alone, that none of the guards are nearby, before he turns to me.
“Don’t worry—”
“Don’t worry?” It comes out as a screech. Sue me. “He’s talking about killing the king and… and killing me—”
“That will never happen, Elle.”
“—and they want to kill this Shadow person and what about you, Rys? They keep calling you a traitor. You hate the queen. You’re probably on the top of their shitlist, too—”
“Leannán. Hush.”
That’s probably the only way he could stop my frightened rambling. I cut it off with a gulp then nod. “Okay. I’m… I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” Rys says. “But you will be.” He grits his teeth. “I didn’t want to do this.”
“Do what?”
“It was safer in here. There was no reason for me to go. I deserved to be in here, but maybe this is my chance to make amends for everything I’ve done wrong. I must tell myself that. Understand?”
Is it Rys’s turn to ramble now? I have no idea what any of that means, or what it has to do with the question I asked him.
“Rys. What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about breaking out of Siúcra.”
I almost choke on my gasp. My eyes are just about popping out of my head as I demand, “Are you serious?”
“I have no choice. Someone has to stop them. Someone has to warn the Summer King. The Reign of the Damned is finally over. I won’t sit back and watch another one begin. I won’t sit back and watch more innocents die. We have to go. We have to tell him. We have to break free of Siúcra.”
We… That’s all I have to hear.
Relief crashes over me like a wave at the shore. I actually sag under the weight of it.
He notices. “Leannán? What’s wrong?” Realization dawns. I can see it on his face. “You thought I would leave you behind to fend for yourself.”
“Not gonna lie.” I let out a weak chuckle. “The thought did cross my mind.”
Rys doesn’t find that amusing. “If ever I was forced to abandon my post, I always knew you’d be coming with me for as long as I could keep you. I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. It obviously is now. And, just because I never meant to leave, it doesn’t mean that I’m not prepared. I have a plan, though I don’t know if you’ll agree to it once you know what it entails.”
He must be talking about the sacrifice he told me about before. Whatever. I’ll sacrifice whatever I have to to get out of this place.
I can’t believe this is happening. Is it possible that my shitty luck is finally turning around?
Rys is going to leave the Faerie prison and take me with him?
I don’t even care that he says keep like that. He can keep me all he wants if I get to keep my freaking head on my shoulders. Who knows? I might actually have the chance to go home again, too. At the very least, I don’t have to worry about being a sitting duck in a locked cell when this crazy rebellion decides to target humans.
I don’t care what I have to do and I tell him that.
“You might change your mind.”
“I won’t,” I promise.
“What if I tell you that the crux of my plan relies on ensuring that the guards toss me to the shadows?” Rys firms his jaw before reaching out, his fingers brushing against the top of my hand. “And then you, too?”
13
Huh?
I know what Rys means when he calls it that. The shadows… For a Seelie, one of the Light Fae that deals in fire and is the most powerful during the day, the shadows are as much of a punishment and a deterrent as the iron in our cell. I know that. The oubliette was terrible and, after last time, I swore I’d never go back into that dark hole again.
He promised me that I wouldn’t have to.
He’s got to be out of his mind.
Before I can tell him so, he tries to explain what he means.
And, okay, arranging it so that a prison guard frees us from our cell is a good start. We can’t break out of Siúcra if we’re stuck inside this small room. But maybe I’m missing something big here. I just don’t understand how being forced into the deep hole in the ground is going to help us escape.
My skin prickles in awareness at his faint touch. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose or not, distracting me with the shocks of pleasure that have me itching to move closer to him. Just in case, I take a deep breath and step away.
His hand settles against his thigh. I already miss him.
I cross my arms over my chest, tapping my upper arm so I can resist latching onto Rys. Frustration mixed with confusion slips into my tone as I say, “Let me get this straight. Getting thrown in the oubliette is part of the plan?”
“It’s the most crucial element, yes.”
“But… it’s a hole.”
“That it is.”
“It’s a hole in the ground.”
Rys nods.
I still don’t get it.
“Is there a hidden door in there that I missed?” I wonder. “Because I don’t see how getting tossed in a hole—”
“In the ground. Can’t forget that part.” His eyes sparkle with his light-hearted retort. It’s the first hint of humor I’ve seen from him in days and I push myself to ignore it because I need to understand this.
“Right. Ground. Anyway, if the gate to get out of the prison is up here, what makes the oubliette so important?”
Rys sucks in a breath, his cheeks hollowing as he watches me closely. The humor is gone. He nods. “I can trust you with this.”
It’s not a question. He doesn’t expect an answer. I give him one anyway.
“We’re in this together,” I promise. “The cell, the hole… it’s you and me, Rys.”
> “I’d like to believe that.”
“So do it.”
“Humans lie.”
And the fae can’t. I got it. It’s been obvious from the beginning that Rys had a bad experience with one of my kind.
“Yeah. And I can’t promise that I’ll always tell the truth. But when it comes to something important… you can trust me. It’s only fair. I’m putting all of my trust in you.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. He just studies me closely, and I stubbornly stare back. The escape is so important, the future of Faerie is at risk, but there’s more than that at play here. I know it. I’m betting he does, too.
In the beginning, I was willing to do whatever I had to to get Rys to take me with him if he ever broke out. Now that it’s happening, I still want to go—but he’s more than just my ticket out of here.
That doesn’t mean I know what exactly he is. I’m attracted to him. I’m basically addicted to his touch. I’m so grateful for all he’s done to watch out for me, and even if I’m struggling to reconcile my old life at home with my day-to-day existence inside of Siúcra, nothing is going to stop me from tagging along with him when he leaves.
Even if the oubliette is an important element of his escape plan.
Rys suddenly comes toward me again. The way he glides is hypnotic, his big body looming before me in the blink of an eye.
“Give me your palm, Elle.”
Once, I would’ve hesitated at his command. I’d spent so long protecting myself, making sure that none of the fae managed to use their touch magic on me. Then there’s the way he tacked on my human nickname at the end catches me off-guard. I don’t think he’s ever actually addressed me like that before.
It’s not my true name, but I’m helpless to resist him. I start to lean into him, pausing when I see the gleam of triumph filling his heated gaze.
I’ve seen that look before. When he was inside of me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperate to keep him there, Rys lowered his guard just enough that the possessive heat filled his expression.
He’s pure fire, and I find myself shivering instead of being burned.
Rys lifts his hand, fingers pointed skyward, his palm extended so that it’s right there. He doesn’t have to repeat himself. I know exactly what he’s asking of me.
Trapped Page 13