“That’s okay. I’m gonna pass.”
His grin widens. “Would you like me to tell you yours?”
15
That… that was the last thing I expected him to say. In my experience, Rys doesn’t take rejection too well. The creepy grin is bad enough. But to offer to tell me my true name?
“What? No. I don’t have a true name. I’m not… I’m not like you. I’m human.”
“Mm.” Rys makes a non-committal noise in the back of his throat. His golden eyes shine. “Are you so sure about that, my mate—”
“Not your mate.”
He ignores me. “—that you don’t have a true name? Think it over. There isn’t a single name I can use that will have you doing my bidding?”
Come, Zella.
My whole body goes icy cold. That word. How many times did he use it and, suddenly, I was doing something I never would have in a million years?
“Come to me. Stay with me,” purrs Rys. I notice he doesn’t say Zella now. Why not? He holds out his hand. “Take my hand. Just one touch. One dance. I swear, you’ll be glad you chose me. The Shadow Prophecy will ruin you, Riley. Come with me. I’ll save you from the Fae Queen. If you’re with me, she’ll forget all about you. If you choose Nine… well, he’s a Dark Fae. She’ll never believe you’re not the Shadow.”
Choose Nine? That’s the part that sticks out at me the most. Who said it was a contest between the two fae? One’s a monster, the other my former protector.
“Why does that matter? That Nine’s a Dark Fae and you’re not?”
He beckons me toward him.
I stay where I am.
“Just one more dance,” wheedles Rys. “I n
eed the touch, and then I’ll tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Nine.”
That’s very tempting. For years, Nine told me everything about Faerie and the fae—but he didn’t tell me a damn thing about himself. Not even his name apparently. Rys obviously has more answers that he can provide… but I can’t touch him.
I can’t.
It’s about possession. He’s making it clear that, for some reason, he wants me. That’s how the fae live. They want what they want when they want it. Nine warned me of that a long time ago. When it comes to humans especially, the fae love to possess them. To take them, to charm them, to turn them into mindless slaves, to leave them, to destroy them, to forget all about them.
And it all begins with the touch.
“Dance with me. One dance,” he whispers, “and we’ll both have everything we’ve ever wanted.”
I know what he’s doing. He’s done it before, when I was sedated and I allowed myself to believe that it was a dream. Just one dance—it’s nothing but an excuse to steal another touch, to take another part of my soul.
“You killed Madelaine,” I accuse him. I have to remember that. No matter what, he can’t take that back. But, and I’m ashamed to admit this, my protest is half-hearted.
“I did,” he agrees. “She was a means to an end. If I knew then that she actually meant something to you, I might’ve done things differently. You must remember, though, she was just a human.”
“I’m a human.”
“Mm. So you keep saying.”
There’s that noise again. He doesn’t agree with me.
Okay. That’s it. I’m done talking to him. If I keep on listening to what the Light Fae has to say, it won’t be long before he talks me into doing whatever he wants me to. His glamour is way too strong, my defenses are weak, and I need to get my head on straight.
Something’s wrong. I should be way more frightened than I am. I should be afraid. I’m stuck in a mausoleum with a mythical creature who murdered my sister—and now he wants me to willingly give him everything I have. Only a few days ago, seeing his eyes shining out of Diana’s face put me into hysterics. I should be losing it right now.