Shadow (Touched by the Fae 2)

I know that look. That expression. How many guys looked at me just the same way when I was younger? The older boys in the group homes while I was still in the system, and the rich kids at Acorn Falls who thought I might be a good time when I first moved to the Everetts.

That’s lust splayed across his face, a desire to get his hands on me, to take everything I have to offer—and then some.

He wants a touch. He wants my strength. My power. My soul.

My life.

He wants me to be his mate.

And he won’t take no for an answer.

He hasn’t mentioned how far he’s willing to go to get me to agree to being with him. Not this time, at least. The Light Fae doesn’t have to. Without his glamour tricking me into thinking that this mythical, ruthless killer is charming and kind, I remember who exactly Rys is.

The golden fae—the monster I’ve spent so long running from—who killed my sister because she was in his way and, well, because he could. However he’s tried to make amends for something

that would never have seemed important to a fae, it doesn’t really matter.

Not to me.

Rys is no better than the Dark Fae that let Carolina die.

I shudder. Can’t help it. Thinking about Lina hurts too damn much. It’s too fresh. I can’t stop remembering the way she was crumpled on the floor, her dark hair fanned out over her face like a mockery of a shroud. Even the way her necklace spilled on top of a chest that was horribly still.

Her nail—

Iron.

Hope slams into me as an idea begins to form. Before he can move away from the grave marker, I reach inside of my sweatshirt, yanking out the nail knotted on the middle of the leather string around my neck.

Rys laughs. Instead of that light, lyrical laugh that floats on the air, this one grates on my nerves like fingernails down a chalkboard. I wince, but I refuse to drop the string. Instead, as if it’s a crucifix and Rys a demon, I wield it in front of me, warning him back.

The laugh should have been my first clue that it wasn’t working like I hoped.

Rys narrows his brilliant gaze at me. A feral grin splits his lips. “Oh, how quaint. So someone has clued you in to the power of iron?” Laughing to himself, he takes another step toward me. “Pity that small trinket isn’t strong enough to stop me from taking what’s mine. I grow tired of playing nice. I won’t command you. But it’s time for us to go.”

He reaches out for me.

I almost lose my damn mind.

“You can’t touch me,” I say, the sudden wave of panic slamming into me, making my voice low and rough. I forget all about the iron nail as I fold my fists, drawing them up inside the sleeves of my hoodie. “You’ll burn your hands if you do.”

“And won’t that be fair? After all, I did do the same to you once. It was necessary to erase Nine’s mark. Once I claimed you as mine, I couldn’t let my ffrindau wear a Cursed One’s brand. I never thought it would damage you as much as it did, though. That would be your human side, I suppose. Anyway, all that to say that I’ve thought it over. I caused you to burn once and didn’t even claim my mate. This time, if it means you’re mine, Riley, I’ll gladly feel the fire.” His lips curve, the points of his teeth almost as bad as the points on his ears. “I’ll heal, but the pain will be worth it for all the pleasure we’ll share, my love.”

He’s serious. He means it.

He’s going to touch me.

“Don’t do that,” I plead. It’s barely a whisper. I hate how close I am to begging, but Rys is advancing and it’s too late to run, and his fingers are too, too close. “I’ll hate you forever. Just… go away. Leave me alone. You love me? Prove it. Don’t steal a touch.”

“You’ve left me no choice. Don’t fret, though. It will be fine and, in enough time, I know you’ll forgive me. After all, a long life shared with me is far better than the alternative.”

I gulp, my mind racing, trying to come up with some way to get away from him before I can’t. Carolina’s nail was a joke. He’s still gliding closer and it’s like my sneakers are rooted to the grave soil.

“What’s the alternative?”

“Oh, Riley. If the queen stops toying with you, you won’t even have a life at all.”

Why did I ask him that? I had to know what his answer would be.