“I think he’s trying to ask how you’re feeling,” Bree comments, taking a cautious seat beside us and stroking my hair out of my face.
How am I feeling? Honestly, I have no idea.“I liked it.” I settle for. “I…”
“You feel like you shouldn’t?” Bree asks.
My noise of agreement gets stuck in my throat, so I settle for a nod. “Does that make me a whore?”
Both of them hiss. “No.”
“Never.” Drystan’s arms actually tighten a little around me. “It’s perfectly normal to want to hand over control for a little while. It’s perfect, actually.”
“It made me feel safe,” Bree admits. “Knowing you wouldn’t demand things and that I was in control. I couldn’t have done what we just did if you wanted to be in charge. I would’ve lost my nerve.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that either,” Drystan advises. “While I don’t have your history, I… I have also not always been in control over what happened with my body. I find being in charge in the bedroom allows me to relax and enjoy sex.”
“You suspected I would be the same.” The púca’s eyes narrow.
“I suspected if you attempted to make love to her like an ordinary fae, you would find yourself facing triggers you hadn’t considered.”Are Drystan’s fingers playing with my hair?“What would have happened had she asked to be on top? Did you think about the chance that she might try to reciprocate without warning you?”
Bree looks away. “I thought I could handle it.”
“She’s too precious to risk making assumptions. Fortunately, she’s a natural submissive.”
I bristle. “I can take charge.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Drystan retorts, evenly. “As Nicnevin, you are in command of hundreds of lives every day. Your trust and willingness to let us take the burden away is a gift. We both understand that, and we’re grateful for it.”
I lapse into silence.
“That’s why you came to supervise,” Bree murmurs. “You believed I’d hurt her.”
Drystan doesn’t deny it.
“How much did you hear before?” the púca continues.
“Enough. Your father charmed you into that brothel, I assume?”
“Not like you think.” Bree picks at a rip in his trousers. “He was always gambling, always drunk, always racking up debts and relying on me to get him out of them. I did it because I was only interested in the music, and he would use his contacts—his magic—to get us the best gigs. We landed good patrons, and patrons meant I could do what I loved. It was all I ever knew. He used to make it out like it was the two of us against the rest of the world.” A pause. “Really, it was only ever about him and who he could use to get the fame and recognition he’d never been talented enough to accrue on his own.
“I needed him, though. I was never charismatic enough to score patrons on my own. I don’t have that spark that makes others like me.”
“A difficult position to be in,” Drystan acknowledges.
“Eventually, I decided it wasn’t worth it,” Bree says. “I cut him off. I knew enough people to get by playing in inns, and I was fed up with fixing his messes. I wanted to seek out my mother’s family.” He scoffs. “For all the good that did me.”
It’s so hard not to reach out, to offer comfort through touch, but I know he won’t want it. “Your mother…”
“Died in childbirth,” Bree confirms. “She was high fae. Her parents took one look at my tattoos and refused to raise me. I suppose I should be grateful to my father for not sticking me in an orphanage and being done with me.” He sighs. “He wasn’t so bad when I was younger. I thought if I cut him off, it would help him realise that he needed to get his life back together.” His voice cracks a little.
“He didn’t, obviously.” Drystan seems completely unaffected. “I assume his debts became overwhelming and so he charmed you into taking them on in his stead.”
“It wasn’t so bad in the beginning,” Bree murmurs. “They made more money pitting me against other under fae in fights than they did trying to whore me out. Most high fae won’t touch an under fae’s cock with a ten-foot pole, but I was good at surviving, and the more I fought, the more my tattoos started to appear. I used to dream of which instrument I’d wake up with next. Which songs I’d be able to play with it, but I never gained another after they forced me into those pits. It was always a new weapon. A new instrument of death.”
“Bree,” I murmur.
“Then your Call came,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken. “I was free. For the first time incenturies, I was free. Do you know what that’s like? How terrifying it is? I ran, but I had no idea how to survive in the real world anymore. I don’t think I lasted longer than a fortnight before bounty hunters dragged me back. It didn’t take long for someone to notice I was suddenly indestructible. After that… after that, I made more money in the brothel. I could survive things that would’ve killed or maimed other whores. I was a priceless product, and the high fae delighted in the opportunity to indulge their perversions.”
“I’ll kill them all,” I promise, and Drystan raises a brow in disbelief. “Anyone who took advantage of you.”
