Page 370 of Primal Bonds

“It’s you who was spying on Rock Run,” she said. “If I happened to See you, that’s not my fault. We just—intersected somehow.”

Langdon nodded without confirming or denying that he’d been spying on her clan, or at least, on Merry.

“So you’re a Seer.”

Rosana’s spine prickled. “I didn’t say that.”

“No,” he agreed. His black eyes scrutinized her like she was an insect under a microscope. “I seem to recall your mother is, too. But then, her mother was a quarter fae.”

Rosana swallowed. She didn’t like that this dark prince knew so much about her family. But that was the fae; they collected information like dragons did treasure, hoarding it on the chance it might be useful.

“The question is, why were you scrying for me?”

She couldn’t tell Langdon about Merry. Rock Run had never officially confirmed that the teenager was still alive. It didn’t matter that he knew differently. Admit it straight out, and the night fae would have grounds to retaliate, resulting in open war between New Moon and her clan.

She saw only one option—admit she was a Seer.

“I was curious.” She threw his own words back at him. It was the truth, after all. “I didn’t expect to See anything.”

Least of all, Prince Langdon himself. The most she’d hoped for was some clue that might help Merry.

“You’re quite Gifted for one so young. You’re being trained?”

“Yes.” She set down the wine glass, nerves shrieking at all these questions. But he was a powerful fae, and she was in his territory. Answer his questions, and maybe he’d be satisfied, let her leave.

Yeah, right. And jellyfish can fly. But she had no choice but to play along.

“Odd, that I haven’t heard of you before now.” He sank gracefully onto the burned-velvet couch, crossed one long leg over the other. “I could work with you. It’s been many turns of the sun since I encountered a Seer with such a strong natural Gift.”

Oh, no. Hell, no.

“It’s good of you to offer,” she returned smoothly, “but the sun fae are overseeing my training.”

“With me, you wouldn’t have to hide who you are.”

She flinched. What did he know?

A tiny nod. “I thought as much. Others so rarely understand what it is to be a Seer. They fear us, ridicule our Gift. Or worse, ignore our warnings.”

Like Adric.

“Yes,” he said with a commiserating smile. “That’s the hardest of all, isn’t it? When the people we love simply won’t listen.”

Rosana moved to the panther statue. The butterflies were still perched on its snarling black head, their fragile blue wings opening and closing.

She stared at them unseeingly. Don’t agree to anything.

But, a sly voice countered, Langdon’s an old, powerful fae. He’s probably forgotten more than Colm ever knew.

“My people would honor a Seer with your Gift,” the prince purred from the couch. “You could name your price. You’d be a wealthy woman—you could buy and sell your own brothers. But more, you’d have their respect. They don’t see you how you really are, do they?” Soft, seductive tones. “They think you’re still a child who doesn’t know her own mind.”

Her hand fisted.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

She shook her head, not because he was wrong, but because it hurt to admit he was right.

“Think about it. That’s all I ask.”

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