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“What—”
Sigurd scoots forward in his chair, leaning entirely too close to me. “He didn’t tell you?”
I swallow, unable to speak.
“He’s a traitor. Betrayed the King of the Forest and stole his human consort.”
“What?” I gape. There’s no way.
But fae can’t lie.
“Didn’t tell you that, did he?” His finger trails along my jaw, and I shiver.
He pulls away, and suddenly, I’m cold. Something is missing. It has to be. Galen isn’t the type. Determined. Strong. But not cruel.
“He said he loved a woman,” I say. “That they parted poorly. The king’s consort?”
Sigurd gives nothing away.
“Then why order him to stay here? To keep him safe?”
“Not exactly. He knows too much.” He gestures as he speaks. “About me, my court. If he told the King of the Forest all he knows, it could cause more trouble for me, and I can’t have that. Not now.”
“So, it’s not for him. It’s for you.” I can’t hide the bitterness on my tongue. “You trap him here against his will, just like me, and then are angry when he’s kind to me.”
“Wren.”
“Am I wrong?”
His jaw stiffens. “No.” I open my mouth to speak, but he continues. “A king has a duty to his court.”
“Then why harbor the man who stole the Forest king’s consort? If you have a duty to your court, surely that includes peace?” I stand, unable to hold still. My feet yearn to pace across the floor. There’s a piece missing, just out of reach. “You almost killed the king, right? Protecting Galen after he stole the king’s consort?”
But even as I say it, I know it’s wrong. I pace in front of my chair. There’s too much anger between them, deep-seated distrust and hate. Had Sigurd protected him, Galen would be in his debt. He wouldn’t loathe him so much.
“Wren.” Sigurd draws me to a halt with his hand on my waist. His thumb rubs along my skin until all my thoughts vanish into the feel of that touch. So warm. Inviting.
He plotted for years.
I thought to pay him back.
Pieces click into place. Without Sigurd’s hand holding me steady, I might fall. But that touch, the one I craved, is suddenly horrid. I jerk away, stumbling back.
“You ordered him to steal the king’s consort,” I say. “You made him a traitor.”
Sigurd is still as a statue, all but his eyes, which glow an eerie blue.
Deny it. Tell me that’s not true.
This man who flirts with me, who held my hair, who gave me flowers…
Who bound me here.
My heart cracks. I can’t look at him anymore. I flee from the table, racing through the sitting room with no destination in mind. It’s dark. The lights are dim. The sun has gone, and with it, all the warmth I savored in this horrible place.
The door to my room is near. Only a few steps and—
Sigurd appears in front of me.
