Do I have a choice?
I shrug and Rys, after nodding over at Saxon, leads the other Seelie out of my sight. I could care less about Saxon—yeah, that grudge isn’t going to die anytime soon—but I get a little nervous once Rys is gone.
He… he’s not leaving me again, is he?
It’s only a few minutes but they’re freaking terrible. I want to act as if I’ve been having a grand ol’ time while we’ve been apart, but then I remember that they came all this way to rescue me from being sold at auction, so yeah.
When Rys finally comes back, he’s traded Saxon for an Unseelie male. The pale skin and pitch-black hair is a stark contrast to Rys’s Light Fae coloring, and his black clothes help him blend into the shadows.
I step back. He looks so much like Dusk—from the hair that falls at his chin, to the disinterested expression on his inhumanly beautiful face—that my heart starts to slam against my ribcage. “Who… who are you?”
“It’s Saxon. Can’t you tell?”
“That? That is not Sax— whoa.” As I’m watching, the Unseelie flickers, going from pale to tanned, silver to gold in an instant. Okay. So it is Saxon. I take a steadying breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “How did you do that?”
Instead of answering me, Rys says, “Now look at me, Leannán.”
He keeps calling me that. I didn’t really notice before, but during the few minutes when Rys was gone again, I’ve gotten over some of my dazed surprise. If he thinks that I’m just going to look past these last few weeks alone, he’s got another think coming.
“It’s Elle,” I mumble even as I turn to do what he says. “What?”
“Do I look any different?”
He looks exactly the same as he did before. I shake my head.
“So it’s just me then,” he muses.
“Or maybe Saxon is better at glamouring himself.”
Saxon snorts. It’s the first sign of humor I’ve ever seen come from the Seelie guard and, in spite of my pissy mood, I crack a smile.
Rys doesn’t. “Something funny, Saxon?”
“He’s fully glamoured,” Saxon assures me.
And, since he can’t lie, something really weird is going on since Rys looks exactly the same to me. Darker, more lively, and, okay, even sexier than I could’ve ever imagined, but that’s Rys all right.
So what does that mean?
Good question.
Rys glances over at Saxon. “My glamour held a
t the market. No one knows that we have her. Even if Veron tries to come after my— come after Elle, he’ll be looking for an Unseelie. That buys us time.”
“Time,” I repeat. “Time for what?”
I know he heard me, but he goes on as if he hasn’t. “You know what you have to do, Saxon.”
The other Seelie slants a look at me, though he’s talking to Rys when he murmurs, “Are you sure?”
“I have to be.”
“Then I’ll head out right now.”
“And I’ll meet you back in the Summerlands.” Rys reaches out his hand toward me but, before it lands on the sleeve of my jacket, he fists it, then lets it fall to his side. “We both will.”
“We will?” I ask.