Page 59 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

Because he’s known exactly what happened to Rafe all along because he found my best friend with the slavers before my arrival—and gave orders to pass him off to the first of the queen’s soldiers they found before he lucked on me in the Shadowed Woods, prepared to give me the same fate if it meant more gold.

Because he’s my bonded mate, but he also owes a debt to his queen.

Godsdamn it, I think, cutting off both of my bonds so that Thane doesn’t know I know… and Binx doesn’t gouge out his eyes with his claws before I decide what to do. Unable to move, I stare up at the stars, and curse silently.

Then I huff out a frustrated breath.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about waiting to take his essence and learn all about his motives before I pledged myself to him for eternity.

The sun is high, I’m back in my rumpled dress, and I have my sword at Thane’s throat.

“Rise and shine,” I coo, making sure he can feel it. Only when his eyes fly open, his instincts good enough that he goes statue-still again before he can impale himself on my sword, do I give him a wry smile and add: “Thandriel.”

Thane gapes. Is it the name? Is the swords? Is it the fierce look in my glowing golden eyes as I glare down at him with nothing like love as I did last night?

All three, I decide as his eyes narrow, though his body stays motionless.

“Alana—”

I dig the sword a little deeper. A dot of gold blood appears at the tip, trickling down the side of his thick neck. Just so he knows I’m fucking serious.

He gulps.

“I wouldn’t recommend doing that,” I scoff.

He tries again. “If this is about last night⁠—”

I don’t want to think about last night. “Hush, Thandriel.”

His eyes flash, a mixture of defiance and despair. “So you do know that name.”

Oh, Thane, I know everything.

Last night, my first instinct had been to wake him up, accuse him of finding a way to fool me even without being able to lie, and, okay, cry. I wanted to cry. That’s what humans do. They get angry and they cry sometimes, and when they’re made of Shannon Crewes’s essence, they get angry.

I was angry.

But despite all evidence to the alternative, I can be practical; or, rather, I can make a plan. That’s what I did. Though it hurt more than it should’ve to stay where I was, curled up on Thane’s chest, I didn’t move. Didn’t sleep, either. Instead, I opened myself and our bound up enough to learn what I needed to about this male before I did confront him.

I had to be careful. I’m only twenty-five. He’s existed six times as long as I have. He has the memories to prove it. I didn’t want to be overloaded by them, so I only searched for what was necessary.

I discovered that he had every intention of selling me to the slavers if I wasn’t the shadow demoness of the Prophecy. If I was? He was bringing me to Queen Celeste himself. I don’t know what he did to owe her such a debt, but he was convinced that she’d free him from any obligation if he handed me over to her on a gold platter.

What he said last night to me… that he was drawn to me from the beginning… that was true. Right around the midpoint of our journey through the Shadowed Woods, he’d changed his mind. He decided I was his, but that didn’t change the fact that I was determined to find Rafe and rescue him.

Especially since Thane was the fae who arranged him to be sent straight to the queen to help with his debt…

That’s not all I learned, though. Like all fae, Thane Aurex is his chosen name, the one he gives so that his true name is guarded. I’m not so sure what a true name can be used for. It’s enough that fae refuse to reveal them, yet one bonus of having his essence is that I know what to call him to catch his attention.

And I need to. Because, beyond how much it pains me to know that he so cleverly concealed his role in Rafe’s abduction, I learned one little detail in my dive into his essence before I shut the door on that, too.

He’s lucky I didn’t follow his example and just take his head. For the sake of our mate bond, and because his essence makes it clear that he does care for me, I decide to let him attempt to explain himself.

After that, though? To borrow a Human phrase from Mom: all bets are off.

I lift the sword so that I don’t accidentally—or, okay, not-so-accidentally—stab him. “Talk.”

“I—”