It was a job to swallow; the toast suddenly stuck in my throat. “I thought you took something that meant you couldn’t get me pregnant.” My cheeks had gone cold and tingly, my stomach hard. Was that the first sign of pregnancy?

I sucked in a deep breath. No. I’d been taking the preventative for years—House had even provided it since we’d arrived here. That tingle was just panic setting in. I wouldn’t be landed with a baby. This wasn’t the start of my own huge brood of children.

“I do.” He canted his head as though he could see the emotions that chased through me, then held out the mug. “But you only have my word for it. I thought this might give you peace of mind. By the look of you, you need it.”

My laugh was one of pure relief. Not just that I was doubly protected from an unwanted pregnancy, but also because of his thoughtfulness. I grabbed him for a long kiss before taking the mug and tucking in to breakfast.

* * *

It was the best day perhaps of my entire life to date.

Once breakfast had gone down, we did some light training, since he was still concerned about the healing of my arm. It wasn’t only skin the kelpie had damaged, he explained—there were muscles beneath that were still knitting together. So I tried not to grumble too much at the slow, steady movements he showed me or the lighter weights he had me lift.

Despite my quiet frustrations, I found myself grinning at him like a fool more than once, picturing the night before. Finding warmth in thoughts of the breakfast he’d taken the time to cook so expertly this morning. Enjoying the way his touch lingered on me a little longer than usual when he corrected my form.

And several times I caught him smoothing a similar grin from his own face as he looked away.

We had lunch with Granny, one of our last, as she pointed out. We would stay tonight and tomorrow night, then we’d be free to leave at dawn the next day.

As wonderful as this day was, a small part of me wondered what would happen after. He’d said he was mine, and we were still technically married. But would he really be happy to keep our vows in place? What would our life together be like once the rest of the world was in it?

But his hand was a firm, sure weight on my thigh, and I remembered. We had faced the worst in this House’s memories and we’d faced it together. We’d get through whatever the outside world threw at us.

With a broad smile, Granny eyed us and nodded, no doubt seeing something had shifted. She clutched her hands together, the joints moving with an ease that made me smile in turn. “For your last day, I’ve planned something special.”

I didn’t see how it could be any more special than today, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that.

That night, we dined in our room, just the two of us as usual. But tonight it dissolved into slow, sweet lovemaking on the rug in front of the fire. And it really did feel like we were making love—making it happen, promising it, proclaiming it, even if we didn’t say it.

But, of course, warm and sated, we fell asleep…

35

IN A DINING ROOM

House threw more of its usual strange memories at us. Tonight, as though it knew it was about to lose us, they were particularly dark. More sacrifice overseen by the sapphire-eyed woman as Faolán kept me safe from her charm. These poor people she cut into parts and the dream dissolved into tides of blood.

But we didn’t wake.

Instead, we blinked and found ourselves at a dinner party with her. She smiled at her guests, teeth too sharp, mouth a little too wide, and when she clicked her fingers, the doors rattled, then swung open. “Meet my new servants.”

On unsteady feet came something twisted, something that had too many legs and too many arms, but it was…

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even think about screaming.

Because those many legs and many arms, they werehumanlimbs. In a shambling, mismatched gait, the thing crossed the floor, trays of food in its hands. My stomach turned, and sitting beside me, Faolán gave a low growl.

The other guests murmured in surprise and admiration. One chuckled, pointing at the way its legs moved.

I couldn’t stop staring. Amongst all those limbs, I finally spotted the head. It peeked out, eyes wide and swivelling from side to side, as its jaw twitched and flexed, but no sound came.

Something inside me broke when I saw why.

Its mouth had been sewn shut. Blood seeped around the dark cords that held it silent, and no matter how much it moved, they didn’t break.

And I recognised that face. It had been at the sacrifice we’d just seen, one of the victims. There’d been so many that I’d lost count… but now they were here, at least some of them merged together into this “servant.”

The twist in my stomach that had been mingled horror and disgust fell loose. This wasn’t a monster or something to be feared. This had been a person—several people, and now they were broken and afraid. A creature without a voice. A figure of pity and suffering. An outrage that the sapphire-eyed woman had created.