Page 83 of Taken By Shadows

There was nothing that separated us now, and I could see his full, tall and striking form as he braced his hands on the desk.

Oh gods. Could he not look like that? The only upside to his looks was that it made it hard to remember to worry about other things, like being hunted by his brother.

He folded his arms until the fabric strained around them. “How do I know you’re really trying to find the faebane?”

“I said I would do this. So I will do it. If you’re used to people going back on their word, perhaps you need to find better company.”

His lips twitched at my emphatic tone, and he raised his hands defensively. “I only mean it wouldn’t be the first time someone has lied to the Crown.” He paused before looking at me. “Your terms were clear.” His voice fell flat as he reminded me. “In two moons, if there is nothing, I will let you go. Regardless of my own situation in this city.”

Heat coursed through me. “Thank you.” And I meant it.

Something like a tangible wisp of smoke hung precariously in the air between us then. Had we just respected each other on our terms?

It felt like the lightest of breezes would destroy it at any moment.

Gods, he looked lethal and elegant and just too good not to touch.

I clenched my hands.

“I trust that you are worthy of your word. I don’t believe you would make a bargain with me only to break it. But these meetings will be routine for you now.” He levelled his gaze at me, and I felt the full weight of the prince that lurked behind those striking features.

“Maybe I should have bargained harder,” I tutted.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to threaten me with again if you feel the need to renegotiate.” His lips twitched at a smile begging to break over his face.

Whether intended as a challenge or not, my eyes fell to the dagger he had at his hip. The same one I’d drawn his blood with that very first day.

He didn’t miss where my eyes landed.

“Think you’re fast enough?” He leaned into the darkness in his voice. The challenge obvious in his words.

He could no doubt see the hunger in my eyes. It wasn’t a desire driven by preservation this time, though. Some dark and twisted part of me liked what I’d done in the Cage, carved out a piece of his loyalty for me.

“Not now you have your magic back.” A pang of shock hit me then. “It is back, isn’t it?”

A half smile tugged at his lips. “Worried for me, peach?”

I stammered. I wasn’t worried about him. I just … I didn’t want the burden of owing him anything else.

“It’s there,” he confirmed.

I released a breath. But I was disgruntled to find out I cared. I cared about his magic. Why did the idea of robbing someone of something so vital hurt? It wasn’t my hurt. But I’d lost enough already in my life and been outcast long enough that I knew it would hurt to have a part of yourself removed without your consent.

“Magic is more like a well,” Kaed said over my thoughts. “You draw from it. It refills. But fae have their own limitations. I suppose one could use their power into oblivion. And great use costs us. But emotions fuel magic.”

“I know,” I said, too quickly, biting down on my own emotions simmering beneath the surface.

Kaed paused to look at me.

“Audrie.” I twitched a smile.

He nodded in understanding.

“But I’d like to hear it from you,” I hedged. “Someone with … two hundred years of practice.”

Kaed looked up, a little shocked, perhaps, that I’d known that detail.

“Audrie,” I said again, this time the smile fully formed.