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If I have an itch, I know how easy I can scratch it. And, honestly, giving it up to the Unseelie wouldn’t be such a hardship if he wasn’t such a cold, calculating, cruel bastard who thinks he deserves it.
So I can’t. It would be like giving in, and I’m more stubborn than that. Especially since I can’t help but wonder if this move was on purpose. He said Captain Helix wanted me moved—and I know Dusk can’t lie—but there could be ulterior motives. Who knows? Posey might rub off on me and, before I know it, I’m rubbing all over Dusk.
And, you know, maybe if it was just hate sex I could deal. But, with the fae, there’s no such thing. He can’t fuck me without touching me and, I might be hot, but I’m not an idiot. He touches me with his fae magic, I can’t take it back.
And what happens then? What happens when I’m not the interesting thing he wants to screw? What happens when he wins and the game isn’t worth playing anymore? I might turn into Posey, only I won’t want my visitors.
Because that’s the thing. Rys was dead-on when he said that Dusk claimed me. That’s the reason why none of the other guards try to sneak into my cell when Posey’s is occupied. Dusk warned them all away from me and, it seems, he wasn’t full of it when he told Vale his kind of fae runs the prison.
So long as Dusk has his eye on me, I’m safe from the others.
So long as he has his eye on me…
He warned me not to try his patience.
What happens when I do?
5
All things considered, I get along pretty well with Posey so, of course, this arrangement doesn’t last.
Thank you, shitty luck. Oh? Did I say thank you? I meant fuck you.
Ugh.
Just when I’ve gotten used to being moved across the prison, a trio of guards come back for me again. It’s morning on day twenty-two, and my first thought is that things are getting pretty kinky for Posey. Last night, she allowed Vale and another Seelie guard into her cell at the same time and, despite the roaring flames contained as a curtain, even a pillow over my head wasn’t enough to drown out the sounds coming from over there.
So when I see three? I’m almost like, damn girl, because as crazy as it seems, she really does like the attention. Makes sense. She explained that, apart from it feeding her the way that the faerie food fuels me, the constant sex is her way of holding onto the power she had when she was on the outside.
Better her than me. My only worth comes from the fact that I won’t let anyone touch me—especially Dusk. And that’s the power that I cling to.
Even though it’s early, only a few hours past the last of her visitors, I fully expect the group of gu
ards to stop at Posey’s cell. They don’t, though, striding right past hers despite her cheery hello’s until they’re parked outside my door.
I gulp and, both wary and confused, start to put on my boots again.
Good call, Hel.
I recognize one as Saxon, the Seelie who I met my first day inside of Siúcra. There’s also another Seelie male whose eyes are a darker shade of gold. I’ve seen him on patrol but I don’t know his name.
The third guard is an Unseelie with a cruel twist to his mouth. I’ve never seen him before and, one look in his gun-metal grey eyes, and I’d be happy to never see him again.
He hangs back as Saxon approaches my cell. He opens the door with a wave of his hand, then gestures for me to get out as soon as I’m standing. Something warns me against taking my time. I quickly slip through the door before they change their mind and slam it shut again.
The other Seelie guard is careful not to touch me as he takes the lead. I’m the middle of a Seelie sandwich with Saxon at my back. The Unseelie takes pleasure in sliding his sword from its sheath, flexing his wrist so that the fairy lights reflect off the diamonds edging the blade.
He seems important. The Seelie guards take their cue from him. At his nod, the Seelie guard in front starts to move. I follow right behind him, Saxon bringing up the rear. The Unseelie keeps his sword pointed in my direction.
Because of course he does.
Where are they taking me now? At least, when they moved me to Posey’s wing, that made a little bit of sense. Did the captain change his mind? Who knows, but no one is more surprised than me when they bring me back to my old wing.
Well, except for the Seelie guards when the Unseelie strides forward and blocks the front of my cell before the lead guard can wave it open.
“Not this one,” he says sharply.
“But it’s hers,” argues Saxon.
