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Only one way to find out.
“Dusk came to the cell—”
Rys is a Light Fae. He draws strength from the day, and his power revolves around fire. The edge of the fire turns midnight blue as he goes cold.
His voice is nothing short of frosty as he demands, “Did he touch you?”
“He tried to.”
Rys spits something out in another language.
The fire grows. It was hovering around his waist, but as soon as I say that, it’s like he loses control of it. In another burst, it expands until the flames reach higher than Rys’s head.
I can’t help it. It’s still too fresh. In my mind’s eye, I can see the fire streaming toward Dusk, engulfing him from head to toe. The fire is behind him, but that doesn’t stop me from imagining Rys in Dusk’s place, being burned alive as I’m helpless to do anything to stop it.
I scream.
Rys pulls the fire all the way in. The roaring bonfire becomes a spark that he palms in his hand. Not enough to frighten me, but enough to illuminate his beautiful face as he looks right at me.
“You’re safe here. I won’t hurt you. The fire won’t hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”
I want to believe that.
“You touched it. It knows you. Listen to me. Everything will be fine.”
I nod.
“Good. Now that we’ve settled that, tell me what happened. If you protected yourself, that shouldn’t have been enough to break my bargain. Why are you here?”
A chill seeps into the air. I noticed it before when Rys killed the fire, but it’s only becoming more noticeable. Is this shock? Probably.
For the first time, I realize that I’m in my tank top and my jeans, but that’s all. I don’t have my coat. Goosebumps erupt along my bare skin and I eye the fire warily.
“Can you… will the fire help? I didn’t feel it before, but I’m freezing.”
He can tell that I’m changing the subject. To my surprise, he lets me.
Crouching down low, careful not to spook me, he holds out his hand. Trying not to brush my palm against his, I extend my fingers. I’m not trying to actually touch it—I don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough to do that again after what I saw—but I’m desperate for some kind of warmth.
I curse under my breath. I’m millimeters away from actually putting my fingers in the flame and… nothing.
“Just as I thought. You really are immune to my fire.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“You’re the first. I can control the flames, send them where I want, but if I don’t, my target will always burn. They always have… until you.” He pauses for a moment, then folds his hand into a fist, snuffing out the last of the spark. “I can smell the fire clinging to your skin. You set loose my gift, didn’t you? At Dusk. That’s why you’re here.”
Though there are still bright spots from the fire in front of my eyes, the dark makes it so much easier to tell him, “Yes.”
“Ah, Leannán.” His voice softens, that hypnotic lilt finding its way to it as sorrow tempers his anger. “I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. I only wanted to protect you when I wasn’t there.”
He did, didn’t he?
Rys… he saved me. Whether he meant to or not, he saved me by giving me the fire. The outcome might have been more terrible than I would’ve thought, but there’s no denying it worked.
Today.
But what about next time?
