Freed (Imprisoned by the Fae 3)

I don’t care.

“What’s wrong, Leannán?”

Is he fucking serious?

“Really? I don’t even know where to begin. And I told you before. It’s Elle.”

His eyebrows rise. “Ah. And I believe that I told you. I’ll call you by my name for you or your true name, should you choose to give it to me.”

Which we both know I won’t.

Whatever. “Do me a favor, okay? Stop thinking you know what’s best for me. I might just be a human, but that’s the thing. Humans aren’t perfect. They make mistakes. I’m not afraid to admit that. I can be vulnerable. I can trust, even if you want to tell me that I shouldn’t. I’m in Faerie now. I can’t go back. That’s the truth of it all. I don’t need you to make decisions for me. I’ll make my own, and if they’re mistakes, then those are mine to make, too. Got it?”

At the end of my heated rant, Rys looks so thoughtful that I wonder if my first mistake was demanding things of a fae who has no real tie to me anymore. And saying the word “favor” to one of his kind? Yeah… probably not my best idea.

But he doesn’t point that out. Instead, with a small nod, he says, “Very well. I’ll remember that in the future.”

Huh. That was easier than expected and, not gonna lie, it takes the wind out of my sails a bit. Then I realize what it was that he just said: I’ll remember that in the future. That’s not a direct statement or a promise that he’ll do better.

Of course not. But it’s the best I’m going to get out of the cocky, arrogant fae so I decide to drop it.

I shake my head. “Okay. Fine. Now, what about Jim?”

“What about him, Leannán?” he murmurs, putting enough of an accent on my nickname that it riles me up again.

I exhale roughly, blowing the air out of my nose. He’s so doing that on purpose. I know it, and I force myself to let that go, too.

Through gritted teeth, I ask, “Can you send him back?”

“I could arrange for it. He’s free to go whenever he likes. But tell me this: would he leave without you?”

We both know the answer to that. Even though I’ve known Jim for more than a decade and Rys has barely met him, it’s obvious. Now that he’s here, he’s not going anywhere without me.

And, like I already reminded Rys, I can’t leave.

Throwing my hands up, I walk away from him. I’ve had enough.

But Rys isn’t done.

“I went to see Oberon.”

He did? Spinning on my heels, I pin him with a suspicious glare. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it. Uh oh. What did he do? “When?”

“While Saxon was here.”

Huh. I should’ve known better. Since Rys has spent the last week prepping us for the peace-keeping mission into the Unseelie Court, I should’ve known that the “meet” he couldn’t miss would have something to do with that.

I guess I just never expected him to run off and see the king of the Seelie Court without me.

“Yeah? Well, what did he say?”

“He refuses to release you from this trial. For some reason, he’s insisting that we’ll fail without you there.”

Oof. That? That stung. I know Rys doesn’t want me to go—he told the Summer King as much when Oberon first gave us this mission, along with a woman known as the Shadow and her Unseelie mate—but I figured, by now, he would’ve gotten used to the idea.

Guess not.

And why does he have to sound like he thinks Oberon is full of shit? Like I’ll only screw things up?