Page 30 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
But I’d slipped somewhere between the rhythmic press of his chest on my back and the softness of the mattress, and was too exhausted to wish him a good night or argue at being pinned against him so thoroughly.
I sank and sank until there was nothing.
Of Bees & Hellhounds
The next day we rode in near silence. His humour, my exhaustion, and the proximity of his body had all distracted me last night, but now in the harsh light of a new day, I cringed. I’d shared too much. I’d spilled my guts, my hopes and dreams, into a great, ugly pile in front of someone who didn’t care. He hadn’t been unkind, no, but what was the pain of a human who’d lost everything to a fae like him? It left my skin raw, exposed to every probing look.
So I kept quiet.
By lunchtime, we reached a land where spring was further along with tulips covering the hillsides and new leaves dappling the sky. We removed our cloaks, soaking in the warmth.
When the sun dipped towards midafternoon, we crested a hill and below us, golden light glinted off the windows of a pale grey house.
My mouth dropped open at the size of it—four storeys tall at its highest point, with square turrets at each corner. Not a house, amansion.
As we approached, we passed more trees and a herd of deer who watched us with only passing interest. We reached the edge of a more formal garden space and ahead figures moved amongst the lush plants.
People.
Apart from Rose, I’d almost forgotten other people existed. We’d travelled for so many days without seeing another soul, it had seemed like Lysander and I were the only ones left in the world.
But the figures stooping over beehives grew larger and more solid as we drew closer.
Throat clenching, I pulled my hood up.
“You can leave it down, you know.” His voice was soft in my ear.
I shook my head and gripped the front of the saddle. They would stare at me for my hair or for being human or both.
He squeezed my hip, which didn’t feel as strange as his touch had a few days ago. He said nothing more until we reached the two fae, whom he greeted as Sallis and Hobb.
Sallis had skin the colour of fresh, spring leaves and hair that constantly moved on a breeze even though there was none. Hobb was tall, with black eyes, antlers, and bark-like skin over their hands. They smiled and greeted Lysander by name, all the while throwing me questioning glances. He introduced me but gave no explanation, not mentioning how I’d been bargained in the Tithe or that I was to be his new bride.
By the time we reached the imposing front doors of his home and met what must’ve been a butler, I understood his comment about the people of Briarbridge being all the same.
While we referred to “the fae” as though they were one group, all the fae I’d seen so far appeared vastly different from each other. Although the butler, Boyd, looked like Lysander in some respects—handsome and human-like, with pointed ears and sharp canines—his complexion was paler, and he had russet hair and golden eyes.
I also understood what Lysander meant by “roughing it.” He lived in a mansion that put Hawthorne House to shame.
As I tried not to stare at the large entrance hall, a huge white hound came barrelling through the front door.
Long-limbed and well-muscled, it was clearly a hunting dog. But my gaze snagged on its ears and paws, the tip of its tail and its wide eyes. They all flickered with crimson flame.
White for death. Red for danger. For blood.
I froze. A hellhound. One of the dogs that ran with the Wild Hunt.
“Stars above.” Lysander darted in to intercept before the beast reached me.
But he didn’t draw his sword.
Barely breathing, I managed to blink. Good gods, he was stroking it. He scratched behind its ears, and the thing’s tongue lolled out like it enjoyed the attention.
“Ariadne”—Lysander crouched by the hellhound whose back reached my chest—“meet Fluffy.”
Meet Fluffy. That meant… “It’s yours? And…Fluffy?”
“Hmm.” He shrugged and looped an arm around the dog’s neck, the casual affection softening the fear in my chest. “No oneownsa hellhound. She…choseme, let’s say. It’s a long story.” He grinned up at me, face and eyes lit. “You’re perfectly safe.”
