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I cry too easily—I always have. It’s a sign of weakness, a part of myself that I detest. But I can do nothing to keep the tears from pooling in my eyes. For Alex to believe that the most beautiful memory I carry with me was something sinister…it’s too awful.

“And do you know what’s truly pathetic?” Alex says quietly, cornering me next to the wall. “Even knowing your wicked heart, I’ve dreamed of you for years, chained to you even though you’re not my master.”

“Stop,” I beg, scared of him and this dark mood even as my guilt racks me. How long was he in West Faerie? How did he escape?

Alex’s expression turns cynical as he watches a tear stream down my cheek. Shaking his head, he whispers, “Such a beautiful actress. I swear you’re exquisite.”

“Leave, Alex.” I shove against him. “Go before I use my magic on you.”

He laughs again, his eyes locked on mine. His pain, his anger—they’re tangible, making the air painful to breathe.

“You would send me away?” he asks. “Even though I offer myself to you—a pet here for your amusement?”

I push him again, adding a spark of magic this time. A warning, that’s all.

He glances down at his chest, giving me a wry smile. “Surely you can do better than that? I’ve lived through worse, as I’m certain you can well imagine.”

“Who…” My voice breaks, and I let my hand fall. “Who claimed you?”

“Lord Treald, Count of Chadelaine.” When Alex sees my revulsion, he smiles. “I take it you’re familiar with him?”

I nod.

“I was a whipping boy for his son and sometimes just a dog to kick when he needed to vent his frustration.”

I choke on a sob, my tears spilling over my eyes. This isn’t right—how could this have happened?

Lord Cadoc Treald was a wretched man, and his son is no better. Before Mother spelled herself into her unnatural sleep, Ian was flitting around her, hoping to become her next consort. The entire family is black-hearted, and the idea of Alex being tethered to them is appalling.

Alex watches me cry, his deep scowl hiding his thoughts.

Controlling myself, I say, “Lord Treald died a year ago. Is that how you escaped Faerie?”

“He’s dead?” Relief crosses Alex’s features, and he presses his hand against the wall, leaning into it as he takes several deep breaths. “Truly?”

His head hangs next to mine, and I almost reach for him even though I know he won’t accept comfort from me.

“You left before he died?” I whisper. “How?”

Alex looks up, meeting my eyes. His temporary relief is replaced with a deep look of loathing that hurts my heart. No matter what I say, he’ll never believe I was innocent in the ploy to enslave him. And if I were in his place, I doubt I’d believe me either.

“Someone gave me a gift,” he finally answers.

“A gift?”

He points to the ring on his finger. I noticed the braided, golden band when we first met at the café, but I look closer now. It’s obviously Fae crafted—something I would have realized if I’d given it more than a cursory glance.

“What does it do?” I ask.

Slowly, Alex pulls it from his finger. “Shall I show you?”

Knowing I can analyze the magic if I make contact with the metal, I let him take my hand. He hesitates, the ring hovering in his fingers. After several seconds of indecision, he makes a noise in the back of his throat and slides the band over my thumb.

I gasp as an iron-like cage clamps around my magic.

“The ring blocked the tether,” Alex studies me. “Can you feel it?”

“It’s the Cahlvare,” I breathe, trying to wrench it from my thumb. But it’s too late. The spell feeds on my magic, latched in place like a leech. Without access to my power, I’m not strong enough to pull it free.


Tags: Shari L. Tapscott Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Fantasy