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I made a noncommittal noise, trying not to think on his words too deeply. I was no longer useful to my mother, therefore she had no reason to keep me alive. To not kill me herself.
Pain stabbed through my chest. That weak, childish longing that had never truly gone away. That desire to be loved. To feel safe.
“Ash really would throw me in the dungeon if I let you leave seelie,” Gillie said grimly. “Please, lad, promise me you won’t try and go to the sidhe.”
I snorted at that, which made Gillie huff.
“Alright, not a promise, but your word. Give me your word you won’t. If something happened to you…”
I could hear the dread in his voice. Even though leaving right this second for Gillie and Nua’s sidhe seemed like the best idea to me, I let out a long sigh and slumped forward, resting my cheek in my hand.
“Fine. We won’t go.”
Gillie exhaled in relief, fiddling with the cards in his hand. “I promise you, Lonan, I will find out more about the brew’s properties. We’ll figure this out.”
I nodded unsteadily. “Alright.”
“Have you… not tried shifting at all?”
“No.” My stomach roiled. “If the leg vanishes… If the wound reopens—”
“We’ll figure it out,” he repeated calmly, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
Chapter Seven
Lonan
I finally let Gillie go to bed a short while later, no longer wanting his company. No longer wanting anyone’s company, even though I still felt miserable at the thought of going back to Ash’s and my room alone.
After Gillie had left the dining room, I rose unsteadily from my seat and made a beeline for the door that led to the kitchen, stumbling through it and blinking slowly as I looked around. All the kitchen staff had frozen at the sight of me. The air was steamy in here, far too hot, and the scent of fish from our dinner lingered, making me wrinkle my nose.
I cleared my throat, lifting my chin and trying to hide how drunk I was. “A bottle of wine.”
No one moved at first, until a familiar figure jumped up from the big, sagging wooden table in the corner of the room.
Jora smoothed down her dress, eyes anxious as she hurried to a small wooden door. “Of course, Prince Lonan.”
She vanished and the room lapsed back into silence. No one had moved, all of them eyeing me with fear or hesitation or outright disgust. I refused to react to any of them, managing to keep my blank mask in place as I tracked my gaze over each and every seelie fae. When I casually rested my hand on the sword hilt at my hip, a few of them twitched and shuffled back.
Jora reappeared, pink in the face and clutching a bottle of red wine. “I’ll just uncork it and find you a clean glass—”
“This is fine.” I flicked my fingers towards the bottle, keeping my hand outstretched so she could pass it over.
Her eyes darted over my face, teeth worrying her lower lip. “Shall I escort you to your private quarters, Prince Lonan?”
“No. I appreciate the wine.”
Taking a deep breath to try and clear my head, I turned and walked as steadily as possible back out of the kitchen. The moment the door swung shut behind me, a torrent of muffled, hissed whispers sounded from behind it.
Pulling the cork out with my teeth, I took a lazy swig as I wandered towards the doors that led to the front hall. The corners of my numb mouth tipped up when I realised Jora had given me one of the sweeter wines, but my lips and tongue and teeth were already stained with the stuff, so I didn’t taste it all that much as I gulped it down.
The eyes of the two guards posted by the front doors darted to me and away again just as fast when I stumbled out of the dining room. The idea of getting so drunk that I passed out in our bed had seemed wonderful at first, but suddenly, as I eyed the swords gleaming at the guards’ hips—as I remembered that I was all alone here, a single misplaced unseelie—it didn’t seem all that smart anymore.
Lowering the bottle, I cleared my throat and took a careful step forward. Then another. I was trying my best to walk in a straight line, but found that I kept veering off course. The only other time I had been drunk was with Ash, at our Yule celebration in his old cottage. I hadn’t had to do much walking then—we’d only stumbled from the living room to the bed after fucking in front of the fire.
And I remembered him getting up in the night to fetch me some water, making me drink it all, telling me I would still probably feel unwell in the morning but that it would help. He’d chuckled when I’d drunkenly pawed at his neck and chest, my words slurred as I’d told him I wanted to fuck again, even though my body had been far less willing than my brain by that point. Ash had given me a firm kiss and pulled the covers up over me, smoothing my hair back until I’d passed out.
Well, Ash wasn’t here to do any of that this time. Ash had left with his brother to visit his parents’ old cottage, not wanting me to go with him. So I was all alone here, and now I was drunk, surrounded by armed seelie guards who hated me for what I was. Just like everyone else.
