Page 77 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

“I’m Rose,” I murmur, craning my neck to put myself directly in his line of sight once more. “What’s your name?”

He flinches as if I’ve struck him.

“Don’t answer that,” Kitarni orders, the urgency in her voice hitting us both like a whip. We both flinch, and her eyes briefly raise heavenward in a universal gesture of exasperation. When she speaks again, she softens her tone and directs her words at the púca. “The Nicnevin was raised by humans. I promise you, she doesn’t understand what she just did.”

She turns to face the room. “Please, let’s give the Nicnevin and her mates some privacy.”

There’s a collective scraping as everyone else in the room files out, abandoning their meals without a word of complaint.

As soon as they’re gone, I glance back at her, then up at Jaro. “What don’t I understand?” I ask, confused.

My shifter Guard scrubs a hand down his face. “My lady, with ordinary fae, names hold a lot of power. To demand the name of someone who just admitted owing you a life debt, in front of so many people, is… Well, everyone who heard him utter it would be able to control him.”

So I basically asked him to enslave himself to a room full of other fae.

“Shit.”

I’m so unused to cursing out loud that I instinctively slap my hand over my mouth, and then fall backwards onto my ass as my púca flinches again.

Every time I think I’m getting a handle on my new life, something like this happens. No matter how much I’ve learned, I’m still so ignorant, and at times like this, it’s just so infuriating…

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You’re not in debt to me,” I insist. “And please, don’t be afraid of me. I… I won’t ever hurt you. I swear.”

He must take me at my word, because his eyes finally, blessedly, meet mine and he stares, and stares.

Just when the silence is becoming uncomfortable, his lips part. “My name is Bricriu.”

Bree-croo. What an unusual name. Almost too pretty for a male, yet it seems to fit him.

“But you can call me Bree, if it pleases you,” he stutters.

Then, in a moment that seems uncharacteristically bold for this strange, broken man, he reaches out and offers me his hand.

“You shouldn’t kneel for anyone, my lady. Especially not a whore.”

The shame in his hunched shoulders undoes me, and I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

“Did you want to be a whore?” I demand.

He breaks the amazed stare he’s been levelling at our joined hands for a second to tilt his head to one side. Confusion is written across his furrowed brow as he regards me. “No?”

“Are you planning on doing it again?”

Bree couldn’t look more shocked if he tried. “Goddess, no!”

Offering him a small smile, I keep my grip on his hand and tug him back to the table and his plate of food. He needs to eat more to regain his strength.

“Then I knelt for my Guard. Not a whore, and I won’t have you, or anyone else, refer to yourself as such.” I meet both Jaro and Drystan’s eyes as I say it, hoping I make it clear that I mean what I’ve said.

This fractured fae is triggering a protective instinct I didn’t even know I possessed. I couldn’t say if it’s because I somehow know that this submissive, avoidant person isn’t him, or simply a lingering response to how I found him in that brothel.

Either way, if anyone messes with Bree before he’s healed and has come to terms with what’s happened to him, they’ll answer to me.

I’d do the same for any of my Guard—even grumpy Drystan. Although, I suppose I’m not that much of a real defender, given that I have no idea how my magic works.

Ugh. My furious inner tirade cuts off as I realise I have very little to actually back up my threats with.

With the wind knocked from my sails, I sit and everyone else takes that as permission to do the same. Jaro is the only exception, and it takes me a second to realise it’s because he’s heading to a buffet table in the middle of the room. He returns with a plate piled high with foods that I can’t even name and sets it in front of me.

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