Lysander opens his arms. “I’m a cheshire.”
Rare feline humanoids.
“So you can turn into shadows and have a killer grin?” I shoot at him.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Cats can slink in darkness better than anyone. Being invisible has its perks.” He frowns. “But not in the last month. Not when I’ve so desperately wanted to be near you. It's like being drawn to the most exquisite piece of art, finding myself ensnared by your complex layers and hues, yearning to delve deeper into the enigma that is you. My pursuits are those of a devoted art connoisseur, relentless in my desire to possess and cherish perfection.
I pause, digesting this new bit of information. Cheshires are a fae race, which means he should be immune to my magic. “So you aren’t under my enchantment.”
Lysander circles behind me, tangling my fingers in his hair before he drops his nose in and inhales deeply. Revulsion riots inside me, fighting for dominance with pure terror.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he murmurs, walking past me.
I pretend to listen while testing my restraints, hoping to find a weak point, or see if I can tug any knots free with my fingers. I untangle jewelry all the time. This can’t be that different.
“Not with all those idiots panting over you. I knew before any of them that you were special. I always have. It just took me a little longer to realize why. But I watched you.” Lysander creeps closer, a glazed look in his eye I recognize as obsession. It makes my stomach roil and panic explode at the front of my mind. I tug harder at the restraints, but they won’t give.
“I watched you. The effect you have on men has always been a kind of magic, Goldie, but then I realized the night of the proposal, the fight, I realized you were so much more than I could have guessed. You were literal magic. A siren hiding in plain sight.”
I don’t bother to correct him. That I was human until very recently.
“Not only am I enraptured by your rare brand of magic, but you achieve what all artists dream of.” Lysander snaps his teeth next to my ear, causing me to flinch.
“I don’t understand,” I say. “You’re fae. I should have no effect on you.”
Lysander strokes a finger that is far too soft along my cheek. I squirm but there is no getting away. He could do anything to me like this.
“Oh Goldie," he says in a rough whisper. “You affect me more than you can know.” Then he leans over me, and his wet tongue drags up the side of my face. I squirm harder, trying to get away from the wet tongue that is also surprisingly rough. A cat's tongue.
Fury blazes in Ted's eyes when Lysander licks me, his jaw clenching as he struggles against his restraints. “Get the fuck away from her,” he growls.
Lysander straightens and turns. Ted’s eyes fight to stay open as he focuses that cerulean storm on Lysander. It promises violence and bloodshed, and unlike with Lawrence, I would let him in a heartbeat.
Independence is overrated when tied to a chair.
“Oh, our little Teddy bear has awoken.”
It was funny when I said, but it sickens me to hear Lysander taunt Ted. If I get free I am going to kick his ass.
"Let him go, he has nothing to do with you and me,” I plead again. Maybe if I focus on whatever deluded relationship Lysander has created in his mind between us.
Lysander turns toward me, his face somber. “You’re right. He doesn’t. But he has two excellent purposes for being, I have discovered. The first being that with him near, your powers are dampened and you can’t activate that tricky second power that took me a long time to figure out.” He raises an eyebrow and smiles as if we are flirting. Ugh.
But he’s right. With Ted, I have no way of blipping out of here to safety.
Even in his inebriated state, Ted looks stricken, his jaw tensing and muscles flexing. He’s still too weak.
“And the second purpose?”
Lysander taps my nose with his finger. “That will become clear shortly.”
“Why didn’t you just come to me outright? Why all the sneaking around?”
“Because Goldie, if I'm going to be the last man in your life, I need to know everything about you. I needed to be worthy. I needed to claw up every last one of your hopes and dreams so I could deliver them to you on a golden platter.”
“Did you ever even care for Cinder?”
“Sure, I did. At first, she struck me as quite unique. She seemed to carry mystery in those violet eyes. I wanted to possess the stories behind her tattoos, and quite frankly, she’s a decent fuck.”
