Page 88 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
That power had dulled to a low hum, but it reverberated through my bones still. I wasn’t helpless.
One long breath in. Two. Three. I nodded and stood.
When I slid the key into the lock, my hand didn’t shake.
I met Ly’s gaze and managed a small smile.
A tiny shake of his head. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“I had to. I failed you. The suit…” Even behind bars, he was magnificent in the outfit I’d made—a caged predator. I turned the key.
He scoffed, every part of it bitter. “No, you were perfect.Ifailed me. He had the place warded with fear and my cries brought the guards running. I… I thought he had you, Ari.” His lashes fluttered as he shook his head harder. “He was hurting you, and I was too weak to save you.”
My heart squeezed for him. He felt responsible for his parents’ deaths, just as I’d blamed myself for mine. And Goren had stoked that past horror into fresh fear, making him believe someone else was about to die and he was powerless to stop it.
When the door swung open, I couldn’t help but reach for his cheek. Warm, solid, real.Aliveand so beautifully vulnerable. Not the untouchable, inhuman creature I’d once thought.
He covered my hand with his and pressed it against his stubbly skin. “He must’ve been on alert after I turned down the invitation. You were right, I should’ve pretended. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”
“I’m the one who needs to apologise, but now maybe isn’t—”
“How touching,” Goren said in a tone that suggested it wasn’t. “Now, I’ve met your demands, little fawn. What bargain have you come to make?”
“Trust me,” I whispered to Ly, thumb grazing his full, soft lips before I drew a long breath and faced Goren.
“I already do.” The soft answer came from behind, but it suffused me, a bright spark in my chest that had me standing taller.
It lent a fresh edge to the smile I gave Goren as I lifted my chin, and unwrapped the gloves. Back straight, I squared the pauldrons of my cloak like I really was a queen. “Give me Lysander immediately, safe and unharmed, together with the seed you stole from his family.”
Goren’s brows rose slowly as I spoke, eyes flicking to the gloves. Maybe he was surprised I knew about the seed. Hopefully, he was impressed I’d phrased my side of the bargain so well.
There couldn’t be any way of twisting his way out of that, not when I’d said “immediately, safe and unharmed.” Right?
“That’s rather a lot you stand to gain from this bargain,” he drawled. “What is it I get in return?”
“I will give you these gloves.” I held them up so the little gold spangles caught the light.
The fae around me shifted, little rustling sounds, clicks, and chitters signalling their interest.
“I made them for Lysander,” I continued, forcing my attention to stay on Goren. “The wearer may kill the Night Queen or the Day King, unseen, undetected, and take her or his power for their own.” I hadn’t prepared this part of the lie, but seeing his would-be throne room had inspired me. “Why else would Lysander come for the seed if not to regain that power to aid him in pursuing a greater one?”
Goren’s eyes widened and fixed on the gloves, a glint of greed in their sky blue depths. “My, my, my, Lysander.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head and grinned, wolfish. “You’re far more ambitious than I could ever have imagined. Bravo, old chap.”
He’d bought it. Good gods, he’d actually bought my lie, my bargain. My head swam with it—this had to be what power felt like.
“I accept your bargain, fawn.” Craning forward, he leant on his knees and jerked his chin at a servant who waited at the foot of the dais. “But since humans are well-known for their pretty little lies, you’ll excuse me if I have someone try on the gloves first.”
My smile of triumph froze in place. When the servant came for the gloves, he had to pry them from my hands.
Think. Think!There had to be some way out of this. Some lie that would stop them trying on the gloves, some—
“The gloves will bond to the first wearer,” I blurted out. “If he tries them on, you won’t be able to—”
“Is that so?” Goren arched one eyebrow, eyes narrowing on me. His chin lifted as he sniffed the air. “Because I think… Hmm, is that the scent of deceit or just the faebane you’ve brought into my house?”
Every possible argument withered on my tongue. He knew. Oh, gods, heknew.
“Poisoning your host.” He clicked his tongue. “Tell me, Lysander,isthat a breach of guest right?”
