Page 86 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
“Ah, rescue is here.” I knew that lilting, mocking voice. It had made me cringe at Calan Mai, but tonight it made my hands clench to fists.
Goren.
“But, what’s this?” he went on. “No Sylvanna? Oh, my Stars above—it’s the little fawn.” He laughed.
From left and right came skittering laughter… booming chortles… cackling shrieks and crows.
At last I could see.
Ahead, on a gilded chair atop a dais, was Goren, his sunlight hair gleaming. He had one leg hooked over the arm of the chair, taking up all the space in the world. Above him, a great sun decorated the sky blue wall, its longest ray pointing down to him. I stood on a strip of golden carpet that led to his feet.
No sign of Ly.
Around me were teeth and claws and bright, sharp eyes. I didn’t dare look directly at them. That way lay madness. True Name or not, I would run.
These fae creatures gathered either side of the carpet, below his dais. They took the role of subjects, and he placed himself as their king, sprawled across that ornate chair.
This was a throne room.
Power.Thatwas why he’d stolen the yew seed.Thatwas the thing he wanted above all else.
That was something I could use.
When the laughter faded, he turned his sky blue eyes to me. They narrowed a touch, and he gave a cold, calculating smile.
Something moved to my right and my spiking heart reminded me of the danger. I held up the letter he’d written to Ly asking to “borrow” me. “You invited me here, and I invoke guest right.” My voice rang through the room.
The movement stopped, and I had the faint impression of something large and moss-green pausing on the edge of my vision.
“Not as tame as I thought. And you’ve learnt some of our ways already.” He inclined his head and that moss-green shape receded. “And what brings this guest to my door, I wonder?”
I exhaled but kept my back straight. He’d accepted me as a guest. That meant he couldn’t harm me. So far, so good.
Chin high, I approached, each step steady, unhurried, like I imagined a queen would walk. The cloak’s plated shoulders made me feel stronger, taller, broader than I was. Still, my heart galloped. “I’m here to make a bargain.”
His brows rose, and he sat up, the side of his mouth twitching like he couldn’t believe his luck. He was at least a couple of centuries old and with all that practice making bargains, he had to be sure he’d trick me into a bad deal.
“But first”—I stopped a short distance from the steps leading up the dais, out of arm’s reach—“I need proof my fiancé is alive.”
“Fiancé?” His eyes widened. His smile widened, sharp teeth glinting in the fae light. “You sly old dog, Lysander”—his gaze shifted above my head—“you never told me.”
Brow tight, I followed his line of sight up. From the ceiling, hung a cage and behind its metal bars… Ly.
Every vein, each muscle, all the fibres of my body burned. The bastard had locked Ly in a cage for him and his cronies to laugh at.
Even from here, I could tell those midnight blue eyes smouldered with rage. It was a tangible force filling the room, stoking my own anger.
But when Ly looked down at me, a wrinkle formed between his brows and he shook his head. Something in his shoulders, in his eyes, crumbled.
“Well”—Goren bared his teeth—“are you engaged to this lovely little fawn?”
The breath caught in my throat.Icould lie and say we were engaged in order to justify demanding a private conversation. But Ly couldn’t. When Goren discovered my lie, would that cancel guest right? I hadn’t thought to check the particulars in so much detail.
My palms went slick.
Ly cleared his throat. “We made a marriage bargain.”
That was no lie. I could’ve laughed with relief, but I bit my tongue and nodded to Goren.
