Page 48 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

And how do I know? Because the third fae male is carrying a length of gold chain with match shackles at the ends.

“Well,” he whispers, his voice too lyrical for the hungry look in his pale amber eyes. “Look what wandered off the main road just in time for us to find her.”

My shadows curl around my boots, flaring instinctively, only to stutter. I haven’t senses any movement from them in so long, hope blooms inside of me at the idea that I could create a portal and escape this, but like always, the magic is dampened.

And I’m trapped.

Again.

I know he told me to stay quiet. The sword at my neck is good enough of an incentive to do what I’m told, even if that goes against my nature. But to be trapped… again… I can’t stop myself.

“Let me go,” I snap, trying to yank free while avoiding the point of the sword.

No use. The hand on my arm tightens, grabbing me and shoving me back in place. Pain sparks down my back, and I spit out a Human curse.

“Got teeth on this one,” the second slaver says, laughing, though I doubt he understood what I said. “Pretty, too. The Court will pay for pretty.”

Glaring at him because he’s the only one I can see from this position, I bare my fangs.

That… was a mistake.

I’m not wearing any glamour. When we’re alone, Thane removes it, and since I do feel better without it weighing me down, I’m all for it. We didn’t expect that I would go off to pee and run into slavers so, obviously, my horns are visible.

They may be tiny, but they’re there, and as the stink of sour wine hits my nose, I realize that the slaver holding the sword had leaned in to get a better look at me.

His eyes widen, and he lets out a crowing sound. “Oh, ho, fellas. I think we hit the jackpot.” He moves the sword a little closer. “It’s her.”

No. No.

“Who?” I ask, doing my damndest to bluff. “Because I’m no one. Just a halfling trying to make her way through the woods⁠—”

“With this beast?”

My heart nearly stops to see the second slaver holding Binx up by his tail. His fury and pain at being held like that slams into me, and if I wasn’t intimately aware that one wrong step would have that second prophecy of Mom’s coming true instantly, I would’ve dove at the slaver to get him to drop my ungez.

Not Binx. Threaten me all you want, but not Binx. Come on, bud. You got this. Get away from them. Get free.

For a heartbeat, he hangs, limp, appearing harmless. In the next, Binx flips himself up, digging his claws, his fangs, every part he can into the slaver’s hand.

On an oath, he drops Binx.

Go, Binx, go!

He listens. Though I know he wants to attack the slaver holding the sword, my soul-pet is smart enough to realize that we’re outnumbers. Three against two doesn’t work.

But three against three when our third is a fae bandit with a sword of his own?

I know where Binx is going. He’s getting Thane. At this point, I don’t even care that I’m the damsel in distress who needs to be rescued. He’ll come for me. Right? He promised.

The slavers, though, have no idea what’s waiting for them. As the one with chains moved closer, chiding the second slaver for letting Binx get away, I realize that they must’ve just taken their own fae portal back into Noctavara just in time to stumble upon me at my most vulnerable. They weren’t tracking me, and they don’t seem to know Thane is nearby, which makes it obvious to me that they think they got very, very lucky.

And that’s my second mistake. Focusing too much on where they came from, I forgot why they would’ve captured me in the first place—until the heavy gold shackles clasp on my wrist, the length of chain connecting them together.

In the next moment, the first slaver takes his sword back. Before I can even think of escaping, he kicks my knee, sending me falling to the dirt. The third slaver snags the chains, pulling my arms taut. His buddy replaces the point of his sword, only he has it directed at the front of my throat this time.

Still holding the sword, the first slaver crouches in front of me. “Look at those eyes.”

They’re dim. I know they are. Glowing gold eyes would always tip the fae off that I don’t belong, so while Thane uses glamour to hide my horns, I’ve done my best to make my eyes look as dead as Mom’s. I can’t change the color, though, and considering every fae I’ve seen has eyes that are in varying shades of amber, mine definitely stand out.