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No. It doesn’t.
“Zel—” he begins.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap back. It just bursts out of me. I don’t even know what he was going to say next, but I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be forced to listen, either. Blood pounds in my ears. With that racket, I’m not even sure I could. “If you care about me so much, stop using that word against me.”
“It’s not a word, my love. It’s your name.”
So what? I figured that out ages ago. After everything Nine told me when it came to him giving me his name, it made too much sense. Considering the way that Rys was able to command and compel me by calling me Zella, it had to be my name.
Well, my fae name. My true name.
It’s not my name.
“I’m Riley. Not Zella. Not Shadow. Riley. Use it.”
Rys regards me for a moment, a sly grin forming on his pouty lips again. Whatever passed between us before over the peach, it’s gone. As his eyes grow impossibly brighter, I know I made a mistake somewhere.
But where?
He waves his hand downward, a slash through the air. “Done.”
I sag as he lifts the compulsion.
That was way too easy, I think. I’m still waiting for him to point out where I went wrong; if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the fae love to gloat.
And then Rys starts talking again. I’m not compelled to listen, though I can’t block out what he says next.
“But, since I’ve done something for you, you must do something for me. It’s only fair.”
More alarm bells go off. Fair? Just like I’ve learned that the fae don’t do favors, there’s no such thing as fair. If Rys is throwing that word around, trying to tempt me into a devil’s bargain, I’m screwed.
He’s holding off on commanding me with my name because he wants me to give in on my own. The fae like to know that they have the power—they like to win.
It’s not going to last. I know it won’t.
I have to get out of here.
I back away quickly, going so fast that I nearly land on my ass when I stumble on something in the grass. I throw out my hand, managing to regain my balance before Rys has even risen from his pose against Madelaine’s gravestone.
“I don’t want much. Just a trifle, really.”
“Yeah? What do you want from me?”
“I’d tell you forever, but that would only send you running back to my rival. For now, how about a dance?”
Dance with me.
Stay with me.
I’ll always come for you.
He’s not letting this go. He’s not letting me go.
“Give me what I desire and I’ll never have need to command you. One touch, Riley.” His perfect nose wrinkles. “It doesn’t have the same ring as your true name, but if it pleases you, my love, I’ll use it. Now, come to me. I’ve waited long enough.”
His hand twists. His hands, with those too-long bronze-colored fingers, they’re twitching as if he wants nothing more than to reach out and grab my throat. Gulping, I force myself to meet his stare again.
My stomach drops to the dirt.
