Freed (Imprisoned by the Fae 3)

Of course, that led to him teasing me for eating a strange pink apple growing on a crystalline tree in the middle of a magical world. As if I did it on purpose or something.

Even though I’m too much of a chicken to tell him about my relationship with Rys—he honestly believes that Rys is a good-hearted fae who felt bad for a lost human—I make sure to teach him about all of the dangers I’ve dealt with since I’ve been in Faerie.

I might be stuck here. I don’t want the same thing to happen to Jim if I can avoid it.

He doesn’t deserve that.

I have more time with Jim that I need. Another week goes by and we’re still waiting for Riley and her mate to return to Faerie. I wish they would hurry up. As horrible as it sounds, I can’t wait to get away from Jim again. Not only that, but I’ve had maybe three strained conversations with Rys in as many days. I can’t help but think he’s blaming me for Jim being here, as if I’m the one who dragged him into Faerie.

That one’s totally on him.

But, yeah. Still no word from Riley and Nine. Which is probably a good thing since I still haven’t told Jim that I’m going to be leaving him behind pretty soon.

I’m not doing it on purpose. Not really. It took me nearly an hour-long conversation to explain to Jim that I won’t be able to return to the human world with him—just like Rys threw in my face, Jim says he’ll stay with me here… even if it’s obvious he doesn’t quite believe that I really am stuck—and I’m really, really not looking forward to having to tell him about Oberon’s job for me and Rys. He’ll either blow it off as ridiculous or insist on coming.

And… I’m totally right.

It’s Rys’s fault. I’m almost positive he did it on purpose, too. Why else would he mention our mission over dinner if he didn’t want Jim to know about it?

Easy. Because he did.

The only time the three of us are in the same room together these days is during breakfast and the evening meal. Lolly insists on it and, honestly, none of us have the heart to refuse the kindly brownie anything. It’s pretty awkward—and I don’t think I’m the only one who notices—and Rys usually finds an excuse to leave the table shortly after he finishes.

Not tonight.

At his place at the head of the table, Rys picks up his crystal goblet. From the sparkles crackling over the rim of his cup, I can tell he’s drinking fairy wine. I’ve never seen him do th

at before, and I’m wondering why he would when he makes an announcement that has me wishing I could crawl under the table and disappear.

“Leannán.” There’s a purr in his voice that’s obvious. I’m immediately on my guard. “I know you’ve been entertaining your guest, but I hope you’re still ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Oberon is still insisting that we fulfill this mission for him.”

I want to throw my cutlery at him. Seriously? The last time Rys mentioned Oberon, it was him telling me that the king refused to let me off the hook. Now he wants to bring it up like Rys wants me there?

He keeps going. “Is your wardrobe packed? I have a good stock of faerie fruit for you, but if you have any requests, please pass them on to Lolly. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. I wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

“Suffer?” echoes Jim. “What are you talking about? Packed… are you going somewhere?”

“Didn’t she tell you? Elle and I will be leaving soon. And the trip… I can’t imagine that it’ll be a quick one. The Winter Queen… no one’s heard from her since long before Melisandre stole her throne. We must find her. The Summer King expects results. Until we finish the trial, we’ll be in the Winter Court.”

Translation: and you won’t be.

Jim’s head swivels in my direction. “Hel— Elle. Can I talk to you for a second?”

I think of the fairy wine in Rys's goblet again. Saxon told me once that it affects humans differently than the fae; it’s strong enough to knock a human on their ass. I’m suddenly tempted to steal a sip if only to avoid this conversation.

Instead, I shoot Rys a nasty look, before turning to meet Jim’s stare. “Sure.”

He pushes back his chair. “In private, please.”

Of course.

When Jim gets up from his seat, I reluctantly do the same. I glare at Rys one last time, growing even more annoyed at the way he gives nothing away as he continues to sip his wine. Frustrated, I flip him the bird, then stomp after Jim.

He goes to his room, holding the door open for me. Once I slip inside, he slams it shut.

Great. Just fucking great.

Like me, Jim rarely loses his temper. He has to really be pushed to get angry. I usually get set off before he does, which has led to a ton of fights where I lashed out and he just stood there, waiting for me to calm down.