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Suddenly, the door behind me opens again. When I see a flash of bronze out of the corner of my eye, I swivel, thinking that it’s Bram again. Is he back for me? Did Veron finally realize I called his bluff and he’s backing down?
After three days of hell in the back of the caravan, is that dickhead calling this whole thing off before I go into a cell?
It only takes about five seconds before I realize that the Seelie striding toward me isn’t Bram. He has the same coloring, the same sword hanging at his hip, but it’s the clothes that tip me off. Bram, like the other fae soldiers who Veron sicced on me, wore a different uniform.
This is another guard. Just a Seelie one this time.
He does a double-take when he sees me, his golden gaze lingering on my face as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
I bite back a sigh.
I’m used to it. Even back home, my style choices often earned me a second look. I guess most people don’t expect a petite blonde chick to rock a leather jacket. Or maybe it’s my hair.
It’s... usually my hair.
You’d think, in a place like Faerie where brownies are two-foot-high creatures covered in thick, brown fur and trolls seem like they’ve been carved from stone, seeing someone with teal streaks in their hair wouldn’t be a big deal. The nix I met when I was being auctioned off at the Faerie market had green hair for goodness sake!
Nope. Just like the Unseelie guard, this one also stares, though there’s an element of surprise written across his flawless features that I much prefer to the other guard’s open leer.
“Dusk, I’ve just been told of her arrival. This is her? The human?”
Oh. That’s right. He’s probably staring because of what I am, not what I look like. I’m not really sure how, but some of the creatures in Faerie can tell right off the bat that I’m not like them instead of glamouring myself with magic I don’t have. With the nix, she knew because I immediately grabbed for the iron bars in the cage I was thrown in. The fate? They can tell because, one glimpse of my bare skin, and they know I’ve never been touched by one of their kind.
Lucky me.
“Yes. Bram put her into my charge.” Dusk’s lyrical fae voice develops a harsh edge when he says that. My charge. I don’t like that. I don’t like that one bit. “I’m bringing her to her cell before starting the next round of patrols.”
“Where are you putting her?”
The Unseelie shrugs. “There’s never been one of her kind assigned to Siúcra before. I thought I would give her a cell near Posey. Keep the females together.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s in the furthest recess of the prison.”
“I know that.” Something sparks in his mirror-like eyes. “Even more of a reason to tuck the human out of sight.”
“If it won’t offend, I think I have a better idea.”
Better idea? Better than being hidden away like some dirty secret?
Yes, please.
“I’m listening.”
“There’s an open cell across from the traitor,” the Seelie guard says. “No one else shares the wing with him. We can place her there.”
“With the human lover? Oh, Saxon… and to think your kind calls me cruel because I’m a Cursed One.”
“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“He’s rarely in his cell. I think it’s a fantastic idea.” He pauses for a second, then grins at the other guard. “Have you heard? This human has never been touched.”
My stomach drops. No wonder he likes the idea of an empty cell. For the same reason he thought it would be a good idea to stick me out in the boonies.
No witnesses, right?
Freaking lovely.
You think I would’ve gotten used to it by now. Being “untouched” is what landed me here in the first place. A Seelie noble thought I’d fall prey to his looks and his charms and his money.
