Page 127 of Caging Darling

“We’re tempting Fate,” I say. “It’s a wonder we haven’t been caught already. It’ll kill me if he hurts you, Astor.”

Pain splays across his face, but it’s not directed at me. Maybe it’s at himself for a decision he made at fifteen, maybe it’s at Peter for treating me the way he does, or maybe it’s at Fate itself for keeping us apart, for not fighting for that other version of our future a little harder.

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I want you to know, Darling, that if it were only my life in the balance, I would take you into my arms and make sure you never forgot this moment.”

“But you don’t know what Peter might do to me if he catches us,” I say, numbly.

Astor winces, and he backs away.

“I’ll help you fulfill your bargain to the Nomad,” he says, and it’s as if he’s silently telling me it’s not time for goodbyes. Not yet.

I don’t have the heart to tell him that I have no intention of letting that happen.

CHAPTER 44

That night, the Nomad requests that I not leave his quarters. Outside of the glass-paneled doors on the opposite end of his room is a starlit balcony. Tonight, it’s dressed for dinner, the silk tablecloth the perfect match to the silks draped across the banister.

A faerie dust lantern serves as the centerpiece for the table.

When I go to take my seat, the Nomad beats me to it, pulling it out for me.

“You’re being quite the gentleman tonight.”

“You don’t consider me a gentleman most nights?” the Nomad asks with a sly wink.

The Nomad takes his seat across from me, smoothing his tuxedo toward his belly with an open palm. A servant then appears and places a covered tray in front of me. When he removes the lid, a flurry of steam shoots forth, revealing what looks to be an entire fish, eyeballs and all.

I pick at the greens upon which the fish is perched.

Sensing my distaste, the Nomad turns to the servant. “Take the fish away and bring the lady something more palatable.”

The servant nods, then silently whisks my plate from in front of me.

“What do you want?” I ask the Nomad.

He leans back in his chair. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I’m already bound to help you find Tink. What more could you want from me?”

Another servant appears with the Nomad’s dish and reveals what looks to be the twin of my previous meal. The Nomad tucks his napkin into his collar, then grabbing his silverware, asks, “Do you mind? It’s been a long day.”

“Go ahead,” I say, whisking my hand toward the displeasing meal.

“To answer your question,” the Nomad says between bites, “I don’t particularly like our situation—you feeling as if I’m forcing you into something you don’t want to do.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point of fae bargains?”

The Nomad shrugs. “Well, I suppose. Except usually, both parties end up with something that they want. And while it’s not my fault you made a sorry deal for yourself in freeing our winged friend of his curse, I must say—I feel a tad sorry for you.”

“Mhm,” I say, just as the servant reappears with what appears to be a roasted turkey—no eyeballs this time. Cautiously, I take a forkful to my mouth and try not to let my eyes roll back in my head from the rich flavor. “So you wish to convince me that it’s for the best that I hand over Tink?”

“Something like that.”

I gesture for him to go on.

“There’s more at stake here than you know,” he says.

“If you’re trying to convince me, tell me why she’s so important to you.”

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