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My heart had begun to race, and my hand tightened around Casamir’s fingers.
“Do not fret, creature,” he said and bent close, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. “No one will harm you…too much.”
He pulled me into the fray without so much as a warning, and my hands were taken by two fairies with iridescent wings, one very tall and one very short. They dragged me into their dancing ring.
“Casamir!” I bellowed as the fairies jarred me one way and then the other.
Just this morning, he had begged me to say his name, and I had done so in a heady whisper, lured by his touch, drunk on the power it gave me. Right now, I screamed it with rage. I wanted to kill him, but my murderous thoughts were soon overtaken as I tried to keep my feet beneath me. I did not believe for a second the fae would stop their merrymaking if I fell. They would pummel my body until my blood covered their feet.
The fae moved fast, coiling through the grove, hand in hand, while others danced around us. I craned my neck this way and that, searching for any sign of Casamir, but it was almost as if he remained just out of sight—a shadow in my peripheral, a literal thorn in my side.
“She is looking for the prince!” one of the fairies shouted.
“She is in love!” another said, cackling viciously.
“I am not in love!” I snapped bitterly.
I was angry, and when I got my hands on him, he would pay.
The fairies broke from their line, and the tall one took both my hands. We spun, the weight of our bodies fully in our heels, and I thought that if she let go, I might fly into the sky. Hopefully when I landed, it would be on the Glass Mountains, I thought.
But the fae did not let go, and she pulled me back into a line, skipping as she went, and soon I felt my body relax into something more malleable. There was something provocative about the grove, about the smell of woodsmoke and the sweat beading off my skin and the pace at which we moved. My body grew damp, and a fire kindled deep in my belly. My face felt warm and flushed, my breasts heavy as arousal tore through me, as fierce and as violent as it had the night I met Casamir.
I was not sure how long I danced, but I knew that my feet hurt, and by morning, they would be covered in blisters. Part of me wanted to stop, part of me wanted to keep going, and part of me wanted to fuck.
Someone pushed me from behind, and I stumbled forward, hands planting on the bare chest of a fae with curly hair and the feet of a goat. He wore a halo of leaves that sat just behind two black horns that curled out of his head. He spun me and another fae took my hands, then another and another, until strong arms enveloped me and I looked up to find Casamir.
His face was warm in the glow of the fire, but his eyes were all black. His hands pressed into my back, my body bowing against the hard contours of him. In his embrace, the sounds of the grove fell away and the air grew thicker, heavier. My eyes lowered with the weight of it.
His hand came up to my cheek, and his thumb brushed my lips.
“Creature,” he whispered, inclining his head as if to kiss me, but before his lips could touch mine, my legs gave way and I fell into a darkness as deep as the well.
Chapter Eight
The Glass Mountains
I woke up with a start and winced at the bright light streaming in from the window. Shielding my eyes, I sat up as last night’s events reeled vividly through my mind. I did not know whether to be unashamed or embarrassed at how I had eventually played along, as fervent as the fae. It had not been wholly of my own will; the grove had its own magic, and it had seeped beneath my skin. I could still feel it clinging to my body.
I shoved off the blankets and discovered I was still dressed in last night’s gown. At least Casamir had not undressed me, I thought. Though what would that have mattered? He had already seen me naked more than any man.
I moved to stand, and as I put weight on my feet, it felt as if they had been speared by a knife. I collapsed onto the bed again and lifted my foot to inspect my soles. They were red, swollen, and covered in blisters.
Fuck.
How was I supposed to meet the selkie today?
A growl of frustration left my mouth as I stood again. The pain was awful, and each step was like walking on needles. I should have guessed the consequences of dancing with the fae, should have known this would happen. I thought about how Casamir had thrown me into the fray, how he had remained out of sight until the very end.
I wondered now if he knew of my true plans with the selkie, if he had intentionally tried to sabotage me.
I held on to the bed until I came to the end of it and then hobbled across the floor, one slow step at a time, grinding my teeth until my jaw hurt.
I did not bother to change and slipped out the door, entering the hall, unable to use the wall for support as it was covered in poisonous flowers.
I made my way to the portico and sat, sliding down each step slowly. The relief it gave my feet was short-lived because soon I was standing again and making my way into Casamir’s forest garden.
The dirt was no better on my feet, and I noticed that each footprint I made bore blood in the depressions, but still I continued. If anything, this horrible pain fueled my desire to make it to the Glass Mountains and learn Casamir’s true name so I could be rid of this place.
