Chapter 27

It is the middle of the night, why am I awake? The furs are soft beneath me, it's dark and quiet. Beams of moonlight are escaping around the heavy curtains, but I don't think they are bright enough to have woken me.

Rhydian is behind me. Motionless and tense. I don't think he is even breathing. My heart flutters and adrenaline floods my veins.

"What's wrong?" I whisper.

I can't hear anything, see anything, or sense anything. But he clearly can. What should I do? How do I help?

Suddenly, Iestyn glides into our bedroom. My head spins. I swear the door didn't open. One minute he wasn't here, the next he was.

"My, my, your wards really are pathetic," he says softly. Insidiously. "No wonder a mere human could break in."

I shiver. Goosebumps erupt all along my skin and the hair on the back of my neck rises.

Iestyn is silver and grey in the moonlight, but his eyes are still green and cold. He slinks up to me. His hand twists cruelly in my hair, and he yanks me out of bed and dumps me on the floor. I land hard on my ass and scramble away as soon as he releases me.

Rhydian is on his back, spreadeagled on the sheets. Vines have grown out of the bedposts and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. They twist and tighten. Rhydian isn't fighting them, he isn't struggling. He is lying still and meeting Iestyn's gaze evenly, a haughty look on his proud face.

His white nightshirt is covering him, but I hate how vulnerable he looks.

"It's been so long, my dear, I thought you might have forgotten me," says Iestyn as he steps even closer to the bed. "But I can see in your eyes that you still remember."

Iestyn places his hand on Rhydian's white nightshirt. The many rings on his fingers contrast sharply against the cloth. He starts to lift the cotton up.

This cannot be happening. It has to be a nightmare. The world doesn't tilt and change so suddenly, so dramatically, so unexpectedly. Except, I know very well that it does.

My eyes slam shut. My heart is going to pound right out of my ribcage in a minute. What the fuck do I do? Do I get Pinky? Do I try to hit Iestyn on the back of the head with something?

But if he can defeat Rhydian, I am certainly no match for him. I have no magic and I've never been in a physical fight in my life. Pinky is scary but I cannot put her in danger. If she was powerful enough to take on Iestyn, I don't think she'd be a servant.

"Don't worry, your Highness. I'm not here to make a rhocyn of you. I simply need some dream walking abilities for a little project. I won't tell anyone. It will be our little secret. Just like it has always been."

I'm going to be sick. I'm going to heave up my guts. Rhydian is going to be raped, and I'm just going to sit here on the floor in my own vomit.

The bed creaks softly. Rhydian's breath hitches ever so slightly.

No, fuck this. I have to get help. I try to move to crawl towards the door, but I can't. It is like there is an invisible circle drawn around my spot on the floor. One I can't leave. The fucking bastard. Fuck magic. Fuck fey. Fuck everything. I'm useless. Helpless. I'm being forced to witness and do nothing else.

Well, fuck that. I scrunch my eyes up tight and cover my ears with my hands. I want to hum or sing, but I don't. Instead, I focus on sending my mind far, far away. Where I can't hear anything.

Eons pass. Stars are born and die. But eventually, finally, I feel the moment Iestyn leaves. Gravity becomes lighter. The darkness brightens. The air moves again.

Tentatively, I open one eye. It is true, he has gone. All is silent and still. Beams of silver moonlight are illuminating the sight of Rhydian curled up tightly on the bed. The vines are gone. He is free. And I can move again. It's over.

"Rhydian?" I whisper.

I nearly say, ‘Are you okay?' But manage to bite it back just in time, because, of course fucking not. What a completely ridiculous question.

No answer, not a sound. No movement, nothing.

Carefully, I edge towards the bed. Rhydian still isn't moving. His long pale hair is all messy, but some braids are holding on for dear life.

I climb onto the bed. "Rhydian?"

The world spins. I'm on my back. Rhydian is above me. I glimpse a sliver of moon tinted death before the dagger presses against my throat, just above the leather of my collar. Where the fuck did that come from?

Rhydian's eyes are dark in the moonlight. Frantic and distraught. But coherent. He knows who I am. This knife is not at my throat from panic. This is calculated. Planned.

I want to swallow, but that's probably a terrible idea. The blade is cold against my skin and probably razor sharp. Any movement could be the end of me.

"I won't tell anyone," I whisper, very, very carefully.

Pain flashes in his eyes. "I cannot give anyone that power over me."

My guts feel cold, as if they are full of ice. I hate what Rhydian is saying, I truly do. But I understand. I've seen enough of his world to know. If anyone knew what had happened tonight, then Rhydian would be deemed a rhocyn, and that is a fate I would wish on no one.

"Put a spell on me, so I cannot talk," I say.

It is pointless to beg him to trust me. He trusts three of his brothers, but no one else. It's pretty clear that trust is hard to earn here. I don't know if that's a fey thing, or a power thing. Perhaps it is both. Given all the cruel and heartless folk who reside here, it is fair enough that trust is rare.

"I cannot bind you to silence. People will wonder why you have a Geas," he answers, dashing all my hopes.

I don't want to die. I don't want Rhydian to have to kill me. But I'm not seeing a way out of this. Sure, we have had some mind-blowing sex. And he is fond of me. But I'm still only a human. Just a pet. Someone he has only known for a short while. There is no reason for him to throw his life, his crown, and his power away.

Because while Dyfri gets to be a rhocyn and a prince, somehow I cannot see the fey letting a rhocyn rule them.

It's awful. Horrendous. But I understand.

"Make it quick then, please," I say, and my voice only shakes a little. I'm proud of that.

And I'm proud I helped Ninian. I'm proud I showed Rhydian and Dyfri that kindness exists and is a choice. I did the best I could and it will have to do.

Rhydian's eyes widen. Dark and feverish. He looks astonished. Overwhelmed. And I can feel his hand trembling. There is a hiss of pain and a warm trickle down my throat, but I think my collar has stopped the worst of it.

My mother is going to be devastated. She is going to feel guilty for leaving me here. That is my only regret. Well, there is also the fact that I never did get to try out my blow job lessons on Rhydian. The thought of that makes me chuckle gently.

"Why are you laughing?" asks Rhydian as his eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm being whimsical in my moment of death and regretting that I never got to blow you," I say.

Rhydian slowly and softly shakes his head. "You are crazy."

"Probably," I agree affably. "But right now, I think it's more of a case of being terrified out of my wits."

He flinches as if my words are a blow. Then his gaze flicks down to my throat and suddenly his eyes flash. The dagger goes flying over his shoulder to land with a thump on the carpet. His fingers scrabble desperately at my wound. I wince and feel the moment he realises it is only a shallow cut. He lifts his fingers up and stares at my blood coating them, black in the moonlight.

Sheer horror dances across his face and then suddenly, I can't see, I can't breathe. Warm softness is pressing against my mouth. Lips. They are lips. Rhydian's lips. And now his tongue is slipping inside my mouth. This is a kiss. He is kissing me. Rhydian is kissing me.

The warmth has turned to heat and passion and need. Hunger and desperation. My mouth begins to move. I'm kissing him back. My arms are lifting and entwining around his neck.

I pull him close, pull him down. Now his chest is against my own. Hot and heavy. Solid and alive. The kiss and the embrace is zinging through me. It is curling my toes and setting my blood on fire.

I can taste his grief. His anguish and his pain. I can feel his silent tears on my cheeks.

And that's not all I can feel. The flavour of his feelings for me, the very depth of them, are flooding me. I'm floating in a sea of his desire. His care. His fondness and tenderness. There is so very much of it, it is overwhelming. Fey hide their feelings, but boy, do still waters run deep.

Our kiss intensifies. It quickens. Grows and blossoms.

In his kiss, I can feel all the ways he needs me.

My heart swells. It overflows. I pull him? closer and I hold him tight.

I'm never, ever letting him go.