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“I see now why you frustrate her so much. Why not just give in?” he asked, sounding exactly like his mate.
My fingers attempted to clench into fists. “You knew.”
Malcolm’s hand pressed hard, right below the break in my tibia. I grimaced but held in the sound. I would not break. I might empty the meager contents of my stomach all over the table, but I would not break. The pressure eased and I exhaled slowly.
“Sersha likes to give me presents. I enjoy them immensely . . . and I ensure they enjoy me, as well.”
Nausea continued to sweep through me.No way.No way in hell would I ever willingly let that happen to me.
“She’s never gone this far. Usually, females like me. Very much.”
Gag.
“So you’re here because you’re curious over my refusal?”
“I’m here because you must have a will forged in iron. You must also have a great deal of power to have lived this long, especially with those shackles around your wrists. She’s drained you as much as she can, and yet you live. You’re weak right now, which is probably why I can finally sense the glamour you’re holding onto. Unconscious, starved, bleeding, fractured all to hell, and you’re able to maintain a spell. It’s unheard of.”
It wasn’t unheard of. It just wasn’t heard of in the Faelands. The fae were notoriously good at glamour. They just weren’t good at holding onto it for extended periods of time.
Lucky for me, I wasn’t wholly fae. Also lucky for me, the Queen’s Consort mistook my spell for one of glamour and not one of suppression, something only witches could do. My efforts to hide my heritage were still working, praise Hecate.
The witches of Earth Realm, like my mother, were forced to suppress their powers to avoid issues with humans. I’d done it for so long, it no longer took energy or effort to maintain. It lingered and would only dissipate if I consciously forced it to leave my body.
If it could have helped me, I’d have released the magic to free myself; but the power that fueled this particular spell couldn’t be used for anything else. Releasing it would only push the energies back into nature.
“You want something from me.”
“I do,” he admitted, trickling more of the liquid over the small of my back and down my tailbone.
I held very still as the cloth dipped and rose over the swell of my backside. He could do anything he wanted right now and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I didn’t breathe again until he spoke.
“I’d like to see the power you’re hiding. I’d like even more for you to show it to my mate.”
What was he talking about? It wasn’t a norm of the fae to reveal secrets, especially about the tricks we knew. A long history of war, backstabbing, and power-stealing leadership created a culture of mistrust. I’d never reveal my full strength to him, much less that whore he called mate.
Malcolm finished rubbing over the last of my lacerations. His face drew next to mine, speaking low. “Tell me, pet, if I set you free, would you be able to kill her?”
Icicles stabbed my veins. “Dignifying that with a response would be tantamount to treason.”
His eyes gleamed. “So you could. Good to know.”
I stared, his handsome face far too pleased with his conclusion. He was appealing, I supposed, but lacked that sort of rugged, virile quality that could make a female weak in the knees.
I used to think his jawline was strong, but after watching him from afar, I’d concluded it wasn’t. He simply held it in a perpetual state of determination. Today it was clean shaven, giving him a more effeminate appearance. He was made of clean lines and perfect angles. In a word, he was pretty.
Like Sersha, it was a cruel beauty, the coldness of it amplified by his complicity in his mate’s atrocities. If she would go this far to get me into his bed, what would she do to someone who’d actually committed a crime?
“Despite appearances, Sersha doesn’t have all that much power,” he said, tossing the rag he’d used on me into a bowl I hadn’t noticed. “How did she manage to take you without a fight?”
My embarrassment over missing the signs of danger that day, all those months ago, was readily replaced by my anger. “By surprise. Dolan knocked me out from behind as I served Sersha her morning tea.”
I’d first been suspicious when I was tasked with tending to the Queen’s morning breakfast routine. Months passed and she showed no sign of anything untoward. She never even spoke to me, scarcely acknowledging my limited presence. Like a naive fool, I’d let my guard down.
“With his magic?”
“With a silver candlestick to the temple.”
Mystery solved! It was the Fae Guard, in the Queen’s Chambers, with the candlestick.
