Freed (Imprisoned by the Fae 3)

“I can’t have you as my ffrindau.”

This again? I stop short, frustration eking out of my tone as I snap, “I know. You keep reminding me. How can I forget?”

He takes my hand. I’m not expecting it and a jolt of intense emotion rushes through me. By the time he tugs on it, turning me so that I have no choice but to face him, some of my anger has faded.

That’s the power of the touch—and I’m still 100% addicted to his.

I try to hang onto my annoyance. “What?”

“I can’t have you as my ffrindau, but I can’t bear for you to have another.”

I blink. “What are you saying, Rys?”

“I thought, if I brought your human to you… if I brought Jim to Faerie… you would be happy. And, if you were happy, then I could be. But I can’t change what I am. I’m fae. I can’t be selfless. I won’t let anyone else have you. Not Dusk. Not anyone.”

Yeah. He made that pretty obvious when he lopped off Dusk’s head like that.

He squeezes my hand. “Stay with me. I know you can’t return to the Iron, but even if you could, I’d beg you to stay with me anyway.”

I’ve gotta be hearing things. Rys? Begging?

“I have the room,” he continues, “and I could take care of you. Until Oberon and Morrigan make their deal, it’s still not safe to be a human withou

t protection. And maybe that makes me ruthless and cruel, but if I have to use that threat to keep you in my home, I will.”

“You don’t have to do that. And I love you just the way you are, Rys. You’re not ruthless or cruel. You’re Seelie. But you’re also thoughtful and so, so good to me.”

That’s the absolute truth. From the pear he saved for me when so I wouldn’t be sick while we were still in Siúcra, and the way he took any punishments the guards wanted to give me, the bag of apples, and how he found me when I was minutes away from being sold at auction in the Faerie Market…

“Even when I thought I could go back,” I confess, “I knew I wouldn’t. I want to stay here. I want to be with you.”

Rys lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh. Thank Oberon.”

Feeling suddenly lighter than I have in a long, long time, I can’t keep back my giggle. “Afraid I’d turn you down?”

“No,” he admits. Before I can react, he lets go of my hand, reaching around me to scoop me up in his arms. Carrying me in a bridal-style hold, he encourages me to put my arms around his neck before he presses his cheek to my forehead. “I was afraid that, since you’re not affected by my glamour, you wouldn’t fall for my charm.”

I snort. “Charm? Seriously.”

He laughs, not even a little bit offended by my tease. “Come on, my darling. Let’s go inside.”

Holding me tightly, Rys glides forward. He whispers something that I can’t make out and the front door opens on its own so that he doesn’t even have to break his stride. I’m a little surprised—though extremely pleased—when he heads right for the spiral staircase that leads to the second floor.

At least, I am… until he brings me to the door on the right side of the landing.

My room. Not his.

Huh. Either I totally misunderstood everything Rys said to me outside, or I’m super confused.

I look at him.

“You’re tired,” he says gently, “and, with you, I’ve learned that I can’t always put my wants first. This is me doing that. As much as I’d rather you in my bed, for tonight, you need yours.”

“But what if I’d rather go to yours?”

“You’d only make it harder for me to resist. But I must. Rest, Leannán. Sleep. There’s no rush.”

He’s not wrong. Now that I know that one of the perks of living in Faerie and being addicted to the faerie fruit is a nearly immortal life among the faerie folk… there really is no rush.