Freed (Imprisoned by the Fae 3)

Rys conjures his portal, then takes my hand. We go together, walking through the thick and steamy haze before ending up in an unfamiliar room.

The entire time I was basically a prisoner inside of Veron’s palace, I was stuck in “my” room. He sent his brownies to take care of me, and slipped into my room nightly, hoping that he could hop into my bed.

As if.

So, no. I don’t recognize this vast room. But it just about screams Veron to me. It’s expensive. Rich. Gaudy. Everything is covered in gold—and I’m sure it’s all real—with dark wooden accents to make the elaborate set-up come off as imposing as possible.

Stuffed chairs that look like they belong in, like, 16th century France are positioned around the space. A massive cabinet covers one wall, with a freaking huge mirror on one side and a row of drawers on the other. Unlike Rys, he doesn’t rely on fairy lights; there’s got to be at least thirty candles in this one room, making it flicker and shine as the fire reflects off of the golden decorations.

And there he is. Sitting in one of the stuffed chairs, arms perched like he’s a goddamn king on a throne, there’s Veron.

He’s as beautiful as I remember. Perfect features. Perfect hair. Perfect smile.

And I hate him just as much.

Ugh.

He’s alone. Once I get over my shock that I’m face to face with him again for the first time in months, I notice that he’s completely alone. He doesn’t even have one of his countless servants waiting on him.

How fucking arrogant. He knows that Rys is coming to meet with him and he doesn’t have any of his vassals or guards there to watch his back.

That might be his mistake.

“Rys. You told me you had a proposition for me.” His eyes are glued to me—and not my face. I purposely changed back into my human clothes because I needed to feel more in control of this situation. My leather jacket hides my tits, but these jeans are molded to my ass… and Veron notices. “I’m very pleased to see that you’re returning my human to me. Though,” he adds, narrowing his gaze on our joined hands, “I never expected you to touch her. That wasn’t pa

rt of the deal.”

Deal?

Rys wastes no time proving Veron that he’s way off base. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a bag that’s a whole lot larger than the one I tried to give him.

Veron’s smarmy smirk wavers. “What’s this?”

“In case there’s any question of who she truly belongs to.” Rys finally lets go of my hand before stepping forward and tossing the bag at Veron. “Take it.”

The Seelie noble fumbles the catch, though he doesn’t drop the bag. He hefts it with one hand. “Gold coins?”

“Five hundred exactly. Count them if you suspect I’ve tricked you. Not fool’s good, either. They’ll still be there tomorrow morning. Though you gave up your claim to Elle when she was still in Siúcra, I don’t like the idea of you holding any kind of bounty over her head. Take the money. She owes you nothing.”

“This is why you’ve come? I believed you were after the bounty.”

“If you believed that, you were wrong. There is no bounty. You have no claim to her. I bought her from the same redcap who sold her to you, and for a higher price. The contract stands. But, so that there’s no mistake, here’s your coins returned to you. Take it or don’t. Either way, she belongs to me now.”

Veron doesn’t even look in the bag. With a sneer distorting his stunning features, he pops up from his chair and storms across the gilded room, angrily tugging on one of the drawers in the oversized cabinet. He throws it inside, slams it shut, then gives me an ugly look that, damn it, doesn’t really make the Seelie ugly.

“So that’s how it is.”

Yup.

“It seems that every whore has her price,” Veron adds, digging his own grave. “My coins weren’t enough, but I suppose yours were. A noble turned hired hand for the crown. Pathetic.”

You know? I’m not even a little surprised that Rys is as much a Seelie noble as Veron. His huge ass manor should’ve been a big clue, but even when Rys was a prisoner with me, he was so much more regal than the guards who treated him like shit.

And I could care less that an ass like Veron calls me a whore. If the fact that Rys paid the redcap seven hundred gold coins to buy me means I’m a whore, then, hell yeah, because that unbreakable contract means that I get to be with him for the rest of my life.

Rys, on the other hand…

When Rys was preparing the portal for us to take to Veron’s palace, I noticed that he was wearing his sword at his hip. He’d been doing that lately, usually when he was going out to see Helix. I didn’t think anything of it, even though I did accuse him of being sword happy.