Page 11 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
His palm slid to my cheek, calluses at the base of his fingers scraping.
Hands fisting, I pulled away, but he was quicker. His arm looped around my waist, clamping me against a body that was all hard, lean lines. Heat rose in my cheeks. Anger—it was the heat of impotent anger, not anything else.
“Hold still.” A chuckle laced his words. “I just need skin contact.”
For his magic. Even so, he could’ve asked. He could’ve taken my hand instead. And he still looked dangerously close to kissing me. “Don’t you bloody—”
The tart sweetness of rhubarb cut off my words as shadows gathered around us. That same thread of tension from earlier coiled inside me.
His thumb grazed my lips, then the world disappeared.
In Faerie
Nothing more or less than dust on a breeze, as free as the stars.
Then I was in my body, hanging slack. A strong arm around my waist tethered me to something reassuringly solid, the absolute opposite of those seconds where I’d been scattered fragments. Cold air seared my lungs and tickled my nose.
Eyelids fluttering open, I clung to that solidity.
Midnight eyes swam into view, scanning my face. Shadows caught in a crease between dark eyebrows. A gentle touch stroked my cheek. “Human?”
Gasping, my fingers tightened on—oh, gods, onhim. Of course.
The fragments of my shattered mind pulled together. The Tithe. The fae man who’d stolen me without even giving his name. That moment of obliterating nothingness had been his magic transporting us here. Wherever ‘here’ was.
I shoved. He didn’t budge an inch away, but he released me, and I stumbled back.
Virgin snow creaked and crunched underfoot. It coated the grove of towering cedars we stood at the edge of. I followed their trunks up, up, up. Gods, they were too tall to gauge. A hundred feet, two hundred, more?
More fae light flecked their branches and danced upon the air. Above, the night sky was even darker than it had been at the stone circle, and the moon hung, heavy and full, somehow larger, surrounded by stars that were brighter than usual.
I worked my tongue around my mouth. Now his power had faded, I could taste clean, fresh air, tinged with resinous cedar and the faintest hint of crisp green apples. Although there was no fruit nearby and they were out of season anyway.
“Are you all right?” His voice made me flinch—I’d been gawping at the trees, the sky. “It can take a few trips to get used to shadowstepping.”
I eyed him warily. Beyond him stood a domed tent of deep purple. Tucked at the edge of the cedar grove, two enormous deer, a hart and a hind, sniffed the breeze, nostrils flaring, bridles criss-crossing their faces.
These were no human lands. We were well and truly beyond the wall.
“You’re shivering.” He turned to the tent. “Come.”
Over my shoulder there was nothing but a snow-covered landscape—rocky outcrops, more of those enormous trees, and a range of distant mountains that were little more than grey shadows in the moonlight.
Other than the moon and stars, I recognised none of the features.
I needed to escape, but the ebbing shock and fear left my body heavy. I could bide my time, gather information, and wait for an opportunity to flee. He was right, despite the cloak, my teeth chattered and my fingers were tingling closer to numbness.
Pulling my cloak tight, I followed him to the tent flap. He bent over it, unfastening the ties.
It was cold, but a flush of heat crept through me, tensing my tired muscles.
He had stolen me. Gods knew where I was, how many miles from Rose—fromhome. And he hadn’t even given me the chance to pack a bag.
What would happen to my belongings? Papa’s books? Mama’s sewing tools that had become mine when she’d passed? The little winged sabrecat statuette she’d had since she was a girl; the one she’d carried with her all the way from her homeland to rainy Albion. No more Skeeves, yes, but no more of those things, either.
They were all sitting in my cottage. Another thing I’d never see again.
My pulse sped, pushing the burning flush through my body faster. That fire freed my tongue. What did it matter if I said the things I normally only thought? He’d already taken me from everything I knew. Could it really get worse? I gave him a smile as sharp as my embroidery scissors. “So, thegreat fae lordlives in a tent?”
