Page 70 of Given to the Fae
Thinking back to the way Morgan’s mouth made me feel, my cheeks heat and I shake my head. Locke seems relieved.
‘Did he tell you where he was last night?’
I hesitate. I don’t understand their friendships. Perhaps Morgan doesn’t want Locke or Jak to know what he's been up to. It’s not my place to tell them regardless. But Locke’s eyes bore into me, and I find mine going to the floor in submission as usual.
‘He said he was fighting in the pit, my lord.’
Locke takes hold of my chin and forces my face up to his. His jaw ticks.
‘He said that?’
I nod, and I realize the odd feeling is back. It’s an ache that’s low in my body and it’s making me want... I give myself a mental shake.
Locke lets me go and steps back. ‘This is for you. But don’t put it on until I say.’ In his hand is a yellow bracelet.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘A bracelet,’ he mutters as if I’m simple.
‘What for?’
‘You’ll see. Keep it safe for now and don’t lose it. We’ll explain later. In the meantime, stay away from Morgan or the deal is off.’
I look at him sharply, but he’s already turning away, not saying anything more.
‘Stop,’ I say without thinking. ‘He came to me. He?—’
‘Did you tell him no?’
Cheeks hot, I shake my head.
‘Next time, tell him no, Bryn, or you won’t be coming to the Light Realm with us no matter what you say to Bere. Do you understand?’
I nod, panic suffusing me to the core.
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
He leaves the room without another word, and I sink down onto one of the chairs, not understanding these fae at all. I push the memory of the way Morgan made me feel last night away, and the unusual sensation I have this morning. I need to focus on what I want, what I need. That’s the Light Realm, not passing pleasure with some fae who doesn’t even really want me.
Morgan enters the room and smiles at me. I scowl back and immediately turn away.
‘Bryn?’ he asks, sounding concerned.
‘Yes, my lord,’ I ask, emotionlessly.
‘It’s my lord again, is it?’
I say nothing.
‘Last night...I’m sorry if I...’
I inwardly wince. He’s being so kind where I expected disregard and aloofness. How can I be cruel when he seems so happy?
Then I think about what Locke said and I steel myself. He’s a master, an odd one granted, but still above me in every way that matters here. He could kill me right now and no one would say a word, except maybe Bere because he’d be out of pocket. If they don’t take me to the Light Realm, in less than two weeks, I’ll be sold to the arena, and I’ll be dead soon afterward one way or another. An unwelcome thought enters my mind. What if when they inevitably discover I’m Kismet, they decide to put me in the ring instead of trying to breed me simply so that my opponent is struck down every time I’m hurt? The masters would enjoy the novelty. I’d be dead just as quickly as if I’m fucked to death. My fists clench where Morgan can’t see.
‘It’s nothing, my lord. I was due a release anyway.’
His silence makes me yearn to look up, but I don’t.
