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“Should I not?” I ask, my heart beating a little faster.
Truett shrugs with a smirk, popping a dimple out of his perfect face. “If you’ve called him by his name and he hasn’t killed you, I suppose it’s fine.”
I remember every bit of Will’s warning that all fae are dangerous and death could be a natural byproduct of interacting with one, but it pisses me off that this asshat is trying to make me uncomfortable about my relationship with Amell.
“Are you purposely trying to scare me?” I ask.
Truett blinks in surprise. “No. Of course not. I’m genuinely curious about you.”
I sense that’s the truth, so it settles me. “I saw you and a female in the castle when I first came. Are you married?”
Truett chuckles and shakes his head. “Marriage isn’t a custom we observe here in the Underworld. The woman you saw is my sister, Sorcha. She was asking about you.”
“I’m quite the oddity,” I mutter.
“Only because you’ve garnered Amell’s interest. It’s made Sorcha a little mad with jealousy. I was making sure she understood Amell’s penalty if she harmed you.”
My blood turns to ice. “Would she harm me?”
Another casual shrug. “I doubt Sorcha is jealous enough to risk the Crimson River, but she’s also hotheaded.”
“But why is she jealous?” I ask, then it dawns on me. “Were she and Amell… um…”
“Fucking?” he supplies, and I nod. “Yes, but they weren’t committed. Monogamy isn’t generally practiced here in the Underworld. All fae females want the highest favor of the king, so yeah… she’s jealous you have all his attention.”
Well, that’s very interesting. Amell doesn’t do monogamy, and he’s screwing other fae. Or at least Truett’s sister. He also cared for another human who was in the Underworld. Perhaps we’re a fetish for him?
I want to press Truett for more, but I’m afraid it will depress me. While I know I could never hope to be anything more than an interesting diversion for Amell, it does hurt to know I’m not all that special.
Not that I’d ever complain. I’m well aware I don’t deserve more than what I have, and I’m lucky to have it.
I change the subject. “You said Sorcha was your sister. Do you share parents?”
“Yes. Our parents were original fallen angels turned Dark Fae.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, looking around the room. I’m sort of tapped out on conversation. I could ask more about his family—where are his parents, how long has his sister been having sex with Amell…
Eons, I’d imagine, which, how can you be intimate with someone that long and not have feelings?
Maybe he’s bored and I’m just something to break the monotony?
Or maybe I’m not sexy enough, and it’s becoming apparent when he compares me to Sorcha or any of the other Dark Fae he’s been with?
“You look pained.” Truett’s observation turns my head his way.
“No,” I reply with a faint smile. “Just wondering how long Amell will be gone.”
“You’re wondering where you stand on the totem pole with Amell,” Truett says, scoring a direct hit.
Amell may be the king of the Underworld, but I’m the queen of letting things bounce off me. My outer shell can’t be penetrated. “I know exactly where I stand, and I truly don’t care what Amell does and with whom he does it. If he chooses to throw me in the Crimson River, so be it.”
“That’s good to know,” Amell says from behind me, and I whip around on the couch to see him standing there with a grave look on his face. His attention goes to Truett. “Keep me updated and call on me immediately if there’s more unrest.”
Truett stands, inclines his head.
“Let’s go.” Amell holds out his hand. I can’t tell if he’s mad for what he heard me say or if he’s distressed over what happened to Mertuk’s daughter.
Without any clear understanding of what may happen, I have no choice but to step around the couch and take Amell’s hand.
