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I flopped against his back—gone.
Chapter Four
“Meli!”
I bolted upright and tipped over—my head bumping against the curtained window. Hurriedly I ripped it over, and gazed out over the vast, rolling fields.
I wasn’t in Lyrica anymore. By the gnawing in my stomach and the bright, morning sun creeping over the horizon, it seemed I left Lyrica some time ago.
“No,” I whispered, throwing myself against the door. “No, no, no!”
I scratched, screamed, pounded, and kicked at the door panel. The frame didn’t bend. The handle didn’t bother to move. I was locked in, and not going anywhere.
How could this happen? Without me to stop him, Kirwan would force Meli under his thumb all to have sick, bedridden Mama under his thumb. Without them to take care of the little ones, Kirwan would ship Gisela, Jaclan, and Savia to an orphanage without sympathy or hesitation.
Just like that. One selfish princess and a beastly bastard of a king—ruined our lives forever. And to think, that morning, my biggest worry was finding a shop owner who’d let me do some sweeping for extra coin.
Sinking to the floor, I cried.
Chest-heaving, lung-shredding, hiccupping, bawling wails ripped from my throat and spread throughout the countryside.
“There, there, little bird.” I jerked when a warm hand brushed the back of my head. “Don’t cry.” His slow, steady crooning was as gentle as the fingers tangled in my hair—soothing me more than I wanted them to.
Slowly, achingly, my tears stopped falling.
“See? Much better,” he said. “No sense crying now when things are about to get much, much... worse.”
I flung back, slapping his hand away. Alisdair’s laughter filled the small, darkened space.
Pressing my back to the cushioned corner, two strange, shining eyes beheld me through the gloom. Sometime between my abduction and waking up in the carriage, he had time to change out of his wedding robes into a casual, almost peasant-like outfit of a tunic, trousers, and simple leather boots. His hair had been released from its confines, and fell in soft, curling waves around his ears, and horns.
I glanced at his hands, then doubled back. There was no doubt. His claws were shorter than they were the day before. Had he trimmed them? Did he do that... for me?
So it wouldn’t hurt when he mounted me—
I cut the thought off at the knees, put it in a box, set it on fire, then buried the ashes. In no reality—alternate or otherwise—would this man enter me.
“Take me back.”
Alisdair didn’t move. He didn’t speak.
“Take me back now,” I repeated, raising my voice.
Nothing.
I swallowed hard, absentmindedly tugging on the symbol of my oppression—the charm bracelet. Once, a hungry, ragged wolf wandered into the Gutter Galley and cornered me in an alley—growling and salivating for the coming meal that was me.
I’d have given anything right then to be back in that alley.
I was being assessed by another predator, and this one was more terrifying than a starving wolf would ever be.
Stop it,I snapped at myself.Stories and legends are just that. Whatever he’s done, Alisdair Shadowsoul is not invincible.He’s flesh, blood, and fae like the rest of us. A very powerful faeman, but still, just a man.
You’ve been around enough men to know what they want, and what they don’t.
Straightening, I wiped my tears on my sleeve and set my jaw. I was done crying. Crying never solved anything. The only way to get home was to go through him, and I was more than up to the task.
I cleared my throat. “You should, you know. Take me back, that is.” My tone was even. Almost cordial. “It’s in your best interest to end this sham of a marriage now.”
