Page 27 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
“No, they couldn’t.” He bit out each word. “My tent is warded, keeping the campsite safe. Stars above, did you think I’d let us stay out at night without it? Do you take me for a total fool?”
I snorted, the sound as bitter as the bile that had burned my throat when I’d thrown up. “I don’t think you want me to answer that. Perhaps, if you’d warned me about the dangers or deigned to explain that your tent protected us from more than the weather, I wouldn’t have taken my chances out—”
“This is Elfhame. Did you think it was all pretty faeries and shiny unicorns who—?”
“Stop damn well interrupting me.” I tried to shake him off, but his grip was too strong. Or was I too weak? “And stop treating me likeI’mthe fool becauseyouhave chosen not to educate me. I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, why would anyone educate their pet?”
The fire shook through me, pressing at the back of my eyes, raising my voice, scorching my flesh. Because that’s what I would be now—his pet. My escape attempt had failed spectacularly, and no way would I get another chance. He’d fallen for my trick once. He wouldn’t again.
I was trapped with him. I’d be forced to marry him. I’d never get to see Rose again. I’d be his diamond-collared dog, put on display and cooed over. No life of my own. No anything.
I’d been so close to paying off my debts and living without the wolves at my heels.
“You ruined it all.” I glared at him, even as my sight blurred.
Mouth downturned, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I rescued you from a dull life where—”
“You stole me!”
A low sound reverberated in his chest, not quite a growl. “I didn’t steal you. A bargain was made before you or I were born. If you have a problem with it, take it up with our ancestors.”
I bared my teeth. “You coward.”
His lip curled, more animal than human. “What did you—?”
“I called you a bloody coward. There might’ve been a bargain, butyouchose to enact it. You chose to take me away. And yet here you are, hiding behind a deal someone else made. So, yes, I call you a coward.”
His eyes bulged in an incredulous stare. But a moment later, it faded as his mouth drew into a cold smirk. “Oh, yes. I amterriblysorry for stealing you away from your life. I’m sure you were awfully busy waiting to die of some disease or in childbirth.”
Because my life meant nothing to him.
“You arrogant prick. That night”—I jabbed his chest with the tip of one finger, as though I could point through him into the past—“was going to be my chance. You were meant to pick the Hawthorne girl and leave me the hells alone so I could get a contract and clear my debts! Then I could work my fingers to the bone to earn an atelier with glass windows and a marble counter and half a dozen mirrors and a chandelier and customers who treated me with respect and paid what I was worth and… and…” I clutched my chest, eyes burning.
I didn’t want that anymore. It was an old dream frombefore, one Rose was clinging onto for me. I just wanted my life, my home, the things and people I knew around me, and to be free of those crippling debts.
Not that he understood. What did some fae lord know of debt or work? He only stared, brows rising, mouth open.
“But you ruined it.” Although my voice cracked, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. “And I don’t even know your bloody name, and you haven’t asked mine.” His eyebrows rose higher. “Because what’s the point in knowing amere human’sname when they’ll be dead in the blink of an eye?”
He winced and hung his head. “Lysander.”
I jolted. “What?”
“My name. It’s Lysander.” Head still bowed, he lifted his gaze from the ground and met mine. “My friends call me Ly.”
I blinked at him—atLysander, whose brows rose in a silent question. There was something hopeful in their angle, even though his shoulders curled in, so unlike his usual confident stance.
Lysander. His name, he’d given it to me at last. Not his True Name, of course, but I couldn’t blame him for not handing me that power over him. If I had one, I’d never tell a soul.
Maybe I shouldn’t blame him for everything else, either. My debts certainly weren’t his fault. Neither was my broken dream—the creeping death had killed that off.
As for the Tithe, he’d been ordered to collect it. If I disobeyed a direct order from the Queen, I’d be executed, and most likely, the fae court was the same. Maybe that didn’t make him a coward.
And was that remorse in his hunched posture?
My rage deflated with my next exhale. Limbs sagging, weariness washed over me, giving way to a bone-deep cold.
“Ariadne. Ari for short.” I managed a smile, nowhere near the sharp, vicious one I’d given him earlier. “I suppose even fae have names for their pets, and I’d rather you use mine than make one up for me.”
