“Look, I understand being kidnapped by a faerie is some kind of problematic Old World form of flattery here, but he was a human. It was not romantic—it was terrible, and invasive, and he broke into my house, okay?!” The rant bursts from my lips, and I close my arms protectively around my chest. “Normally, being stolen away in the night is a fucking bad thing, okay?”
“Yes, but you are unhappy, aren’t you?” He blinks—and he really is stuck on that, isn’t he? “I saw the far away stare you wore when you stood next to your betrothed. One my presence replaced with a smile. This rescue was for your well-being.”
“My first kidnapper thought it was for my own good too. He thought Moth had some kind of mind control over me,” I say, touching the places on my wrist where I still remember being bound with rope. “He used me for bait to try to catch Moth, okay? I was tied up in a damn barn like a piece of meat and—and—” Tears burn my eyes too fast for me to blink them away.
“Is that why you thought I had captured you? To get to him?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And now you’re here.”
“Now I’m here,” I echo, wishing I could just become numb to this whole thing.
“I do not want you to feel that pain again—” Magnus says in a low voice I suppose he intends to be reassuring. “You cannot be taken again while cloaked in the shadows or at my side. I promise I will keep you safe from every threat.”
“Youarethe threat.”
He draws back as if wounded, shaking his head.
“I know you said the tower was your refuge—but mine is a cabin in the woods surrounded by trees—with the man I love,” I admit. God, am I just too exhausted to have a filter? I shouldn’t be telling him any of this. Maybe it’s the bargain chipping away at my resolve but I can’t stop myself. “I need to get back to Moth and tell him about all this shifting stuff. He’ll know what to do.”
“In time, you’ll be able to suppress that form.”
“The rage? Sure, hopefully.” I shrug. “Everything else, I think might just be a part of adjusting to all of this. Most of the Moth region can transform on command so I guess, one day, I’ll probably be able to…”
“But why would you want to?” Magnus makes a face, I know he’s all about aesthetics or whatever, but could he take a break from being shallow until the end of this conversation?
“That’s really close-minded of you.” I run my fingers through the soft waves of my hair, remembering how they felt as downy feathers.
“It would be a disservice to deprive you of my honesty.” He shrugs.
“But you can deprive me of my freedom?” I shoot back, glaring. If we have one more circular conversation, I’m going to scream.
“Touché’” His reply is paired with a wince, and I wonder if I’m actually getting somewhere. Though, knowing Magnus, it’s doubtful.
“What about Gil?” I ask, still stuck on this obsession with beauty.
Magnus tenses, the way you would if I had spoken poorly about a family member.
“Heather, now is hardly the time. I will send for your clothing, some water, and we will get you into—”
“Gil. Is he beautiful?” I press.
“For all intents and purposes, he is a giant fish person.” He laughs, and his fingers brush the hair away from his face in a movement that looksnervous.“You should see his glamour; in skin, he is the strangest of things.”
What a rude thing to say about a friend, and worst of all, I can tell he thinks it’s true. I fight with myself, unsure of what is a thought and what’s said out loud. I want to tell Magnus not everything has to be beautiful to have value—and I get how rich that is coming from someone who buys impractical kitchen appliances just because they’re pretty. But doesn’t he know that there’s beauty in everything?
“Now that we are speaking…” Magnus says, his expression turning sheepish. “I have something else to ask you.”
“Great,” I groan.
“Tell me what was wrong with the date. Tell me how to fix it.” He sits next to me like we’re teenagers gossiping instead of…whatever the hell is going on here.
I frown. How can I be strategic with whatever conversation is about to happen? Despite cracking through Magnus’s surface, he still has no intention of letting me go. Even if I can’t escape—I canmaybechange the playing field.
“I mean, that was lovely, but you’ll probably have to start smaller if you’re dating a mortal.”
“Smaller?” Magnus’s eyes dance with curiosity. “Where would you suggest?”
