“No,” I say softly. “But—”
“Then that’s settled,” Alyth tells me, all matter-of-fact, but the tears in her eyes let me know she’s barely holding on.
“What?” I gasp. “Why?”
Instead of explaining, she pulls the letter out of her cloak. Theoddness of it has me flinching. Damn near forgot about the bloody thing. What’s it matter now? Nothing else does.
Slowly, numbly, I push to my feet. “Alyth—”
“Don’t,” she snaps, not looking at me. She unfolds the letter to read it. The parchment shakes in her grip. She’s fighting hard to focus on the words.
“Alyth—you’ve been nothing but duty bound in all the time I’ve known you. I may not be a threat myself, but this Red Cap side of me? I can’t control it, and that is a threat. I’m dangerous. I know it. You know it. Fine, don’t kill me, but—restrain me. Or I’ll leave, go back to London. Or—”
“You’re not going anywhere.” She yanks the letter down at her side and thrusts up against me, grabbing hold of my doublet’s collar, but she doesn’t shove me away. She just stands there, staring at the hollow of my throat.
I swallow, cold sweat dampening my brow, shivers chasing each other across my skin.
“Why?” I ask again. Clouds are dragging gray and blue black over the sky, shadowing Alyth’s face. But her eyes—those all-seeing eyes. They track through mine, and I’m struck speechless and immobile by the way she’s watching me.
Not with fear. Not with sorrow. Not with disgust.
With…greed. Like a hunger. And she laughs a little, like the emotion’s taking her by surprise, or maybe she’s just never let herself feel it before.
Her grip on my doublet is keeping me close.
“Because I’m tired, Samson,” she tells me. “I’m tired of choosing only my duty, only being a guardian.” She sucks in a breath, runs her tongue over her lower lip, and I about croon at the sight. “I want to choose this too.”
Before I can ask what this means, she’s pushing up onto her toes and kissing me again.
It’s a question though. Just a feather-soft press of her lips to mine.
The pause that extends from this moment is infinite. Crushingly so. My heart goes from humming to all-out pounding, an aching thud taking up all sense of sound.
She still wants to kiss me. Totouchme.
Ecstasy overtakes me, rapturous desire, and I let her lead, let her take however much she wants. Slow and sweet as honey, mouths opening once so we breathe each other in before her tongue dips into my mouth, and I swear I launch sky-high.
She leans away, looking utterly dazed for half a beat, and I can’t decide if that’s how she’s most beautiful or when she smiles or when she laughs or when she’s talking about her fae creatures.
Her eyes reorient on me, and a blush floods her cheeks.
A hundred arguments fight at the edge of my brain.I’ll hurt her. We can’t do this. I’m dangerous. I’m the enemy.
They’re all true.
I think about all the times I’ve blacked out or had to fight off blacking out. All the times rage seemed like it was the only thing keeping me standing. Oftentimes, it was—scrounging in Southwark, stealing to survive. I swear, anger was the only thing that kept me alive in those moments.
It’s not all bad, is it? I’m not all monster.
And maybe it can be like Moyra said. I can be Alyth’s Red Cap.
I touch her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “I’ll choose you too,” I say into our little cocoon out here on these wildlands, and damn if it doesn’t feel possible. Like maybe this is enough. “As long as I can. And if I black out, Alyth—you have to promise me you won’t let me hurt you. Whatever you have to do to hold me back. Anything.”
Alyth’s eyes shut. “Haven’t I warned you to be careful about what you promise to a fae?”
“I don’t care. If I’m staying now, if I’m gonna be your monster, I’m yours entirely. Anything, Alyth. Do anything you have to in order to keep yourself safe from me.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What if I don’t care about my safety?”
