Page 4 of Thief of Souls
I look up the length of his body.
There’s no longer a golden claw hanging around his throat—my sister, Soraya, stole it and presented it to Father, thinking it was the mythical Dragon’s Heart relic that was going to break our wraithbound curse.
Keir turns his hand over, offering me his fingertips.
And a sardonically arched brow.
My brain finally starts working again. “Why did you summon me?”
“I need you,” he says.
Every girl’s wet dream.
I know better. There are invisible glyphs painted into the skin of my forearms, counting out the days. I owe him a year and a day of service, and now he’s calling in his favor, and it has nothing to do with me seeing any more of that glorious skin and everything to do with me being crushed between two opposing forces.
“I am at your disposal, it seems,” I manage to drawl as he draws me to my feet.
Keir cuts me a hard look, then sweeps past me, the hem of his robe brushing against my calf. “Follow me.”
Just a small touch, but it feels as though he’s lashed me.
I don’t know if it’s the bond between us or something else, but the sense of awareness between us seems to be growing.
“Please,” I mutter, curling my fingers into my palms as if I can somehow trap the sensation of his hands on mine.
“What?” he calls over his shoulder as he vanishes between the gauzy curtains.
It’s a simple courtesy, one I lost many years ago when my father trapped my soul in the small vial he wears around his neck. Since that moment, I’ve lost the right to demand courtesy, and Keir condemned me to a similar fate several months ago when he demanded a year and a day of service from me.
A sigh escapes me. I have no choice.
I’ve never had a choice.
And so I follow.
2
The balcony overlooks an azure sea.
The Court of Dreams is anchored to the real world, but it exists in a plane outside of time. The only way to reach it is through a portal Keir controls—or through your dreams. Indeed, he commands every aspect of the entire island, because he created it with his power.
It was the first sign he wasn’t quite as fae as he seemed.
Platters of food rest on a table in front of me. Dates and stuffed figs, along with the finest cheeses, and biscuits cut so thin they’d melt in your mouth…. My mouth waters, even as my mood plunges. Keir can’t know how long it’s been since I was fed, but this feels like a new sense of torture.
If my father ever discovered it’s the key to breaking me, then he’d have more than my soul. I would give him everything.
“See something you like?” Keir’s voice is rough velvet as he gestures and one of the chairs sweeps back on an invisible gust.
My stomach twists. It wants food so desperately that I have to dig my fingernails into my palms to control the urge to stuff my face. “Are you referring to the cheeses, my prince?” I glance at him from beneath my lashes. “Or a certain dragon?”
He smiles a little dangerously. “You don’t need to pretend to flirt with me anymore, Merisel.”
That’s not my name.
And he knows it bothers me. This is only a means to force me to tell him the truth.
“Fine,” I tell him. “The food looks delicious.”
