Page 34 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
Gowhere? And didn’t he realise he couldn’t go anywhere unnoticed? The power rolling off him, the imposing figure, and that face. None of it was subtle.
Still, this was something I could do with my gift. “If you need to sneak somewhere, why don’t you just… shadowstep?” I couldn’t call it “puffing” anymore, not after he’d used it to save me from the sluagh. I shuddered at the spectre of their empty eyes.
He stiffened. “For a lot of reasons.”
“Certain limitations.”
He nodded, tension etching his jaw in a harsh line.
“Unseen. Unheard. Unnoticed.” I nodded slowly. “I can do that. I need a workroom, though. And materials and tools.”
“Anything you need.” The way he said it, intense like he didn’t only mean equipment, stilled my breath. “Then you agree?”
“I do. Is there some special way of sealing the bargain?”
“Of course.” He rose and I followed suit, standing almost toe-to-toe. “Mirror me.”
Pulling a footstool from near the fireplace, he bade me stand on it. “To save both our necks. Eye contact is required.”
I scoffed from my perch, which placed my eyes level with the dimple of his chin.
“Better.” His tone was so low and private, it made me suddenly aware of how alone we were.
It shouldn’t have mattered, considering we’d spent days in a tent and on his stag with no company, but in arriving here, something had shifted between us. Proximity on the road had been a necessity thanks to that one bed and my inability to ride. But with dozens of rooms and beds, including one of my own, being this close was now a choice.
He cupped my cheek like he had at Briarbridge’s stone circle. The touch tingled down my neck and spine, all the way to my toes.
I had to take a deep breath before I could mirror his movement. Although he’d come to dinner clean shaven, fresh stubble scraped my palm, already growing back.
He lifted his other hand, palm towards me, and I matched the gesture.
“No,” he chuckled. “Like this.” He closed the gap I’d left and interlaced our fingers. His hand dwarfed mine, but he was gentle. “And now we state our bargain. I’ll let you do the honours.”
Giving me the power to phrase it as I wished? Or giving me enough rope to hang myself? I took a moment, straightening my thoughts. Minutes ago, I’d expected to battle against a forced marriage and now here I was making a bargain with a fae that would mean he could never make me marry him. But onlyhim.
“I will make you a suit of stealth to the specifications we’ve discussed, and in return you will never make me marry youoranyone else.”
The edge of his mouth flickered and he bowed his head in approval. “It is so.”
The words of sealing, of agreement. I knew them from the stories, used them in my craft. “It is so.”
He squeezed my hand, and his shoulders sank as if relieved. “Thank you, Ariadne.”
When he released me and stepped away, his absence left my cheek and palms cold.
He cleared his throat and busied himself returning the stool. “I hoped you would say yes, so I set aside a room and procured some equipment. We can order the materials you need tomorrow.”
“Show me this room.”
“Now? I thought tomorrow—”
“I’ll start first thing in the morning. I want to know where I need to go and what I’m working with.”
His eyebrows rose and he gave me an appraising look. If not for the fact I was a “mere human” I might’ve said he was impressed.
He led me through the quiet house. Some light spilled through the windows, but most of the way darkness pooled so thickly, he had to lead me by the hand. It confirmed another thing I’d heard in the stories—the fair folk could see in the dark.
Fae light flared to life as he showed me to what might’ve normally been a drawing room. But instead of comfortable settees and low side tables, this had been turned into a workroom. A good one, at that.
