It was everything I’d wanted for so long.
Without warning, Rhys broke off, his eyes wide, his mouth open in a shocked expression.
“What the hell?” he demanded, jumping clear of me and the bed in one leap.
Iron clanged against iron as the tattoo that had peeled itself away from my hip took shape, color, and then dimension, and finally fastened itself to Rhys’s body. He stared down at it, dumbstruck as it welded itself together—tight from the looks of it. Painfully tight.
Dazed, I stared up at where he stood with his back to the bedroom door. It took a moment for the fog to clear and the tingling to subside enough for me to notice what was happening. When I finally did, I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing. The twinge in my hip suddenly made sense. After all this time, I’d almost forgotten.
Rhys glared back at me, indignation hard to accomplish in his current state. But he managed. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded.
“Um, I believe it’s called a chastity belt,” I supplied, sitting up so I could get a better look at my own creation.
“Are you kidding me?”
I decided not to answer, fairly certain anything I said would unleash the laughter I was holding back. Rhys glared at me, the iron clanking as he shifted his weight. “You did this—your tattoo . . . Why the hell would you do this?”
“I honestly forgot about it,” I told him, guilt creeping in as I watched him struggle to unlock the thing.
His eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced.
I tilted my head as the memory returned. “That day in my backyard when we were— The day we first kissed . . . I was hurt when you broke it off and walked away.”
“I hurt you, I get that, but a chastity belt, Gwen?”
I shook my head, caught up in the memory that had scarred me so deeply that I’d inked this protection into my skin to keep it from ever happening again. “I was nearly naked, and you just stopped. Then you walked away and left me there, Rhys. Standing there like an idiot. That was right around the time of my Awakening, and I was starting to understand how my ability worked. So, I inked myself with a defense mechanism. If you ever tried anything with me again, it would activate the spell behind the tattoo and, well, this would happen . . . Thus, saving me from you.”
“What about last night?”
“Last night was a kiss. This was . . .” I felt my cheeks heat. “About to be more.”
He stared at me. “If it’s to keep you safe from me, shouldn’t you be the one wearing it?”
I folded my arms over my chest, smiling haughtily. “Why should I be punished if you were the one who started it?”
He shook his head, muttering to himself. I caught enough of it to glare back at him, but the sight of him saying anything while standing before me trapped in a medieval chastity belt was too amusing. Before long, I was biting back more laughter.
“I bet you think this is funny,” he said, taking a step closer so that the iron clanged again.
A small laugh escaped. “It’s pretty hilarious,” I admitted.
He stepped even closer, sending me back against the headboard as he sat so close that he crowded me. His brows had dipped so that his expression was serious, intense. I couldn’t quite read whether he was still pissed, but the heat in my stomach was curling again.
“You’re only laughing because you haven’t really thought this through,” he said, his voice dropping low as he leaned in.
“Oh?” I blinked, trying to stay focused on what he was saying rather than how hot he looked while saying it.
“If I’m all locked away, it’s going to make the outcome pretty frustrating for you.” His hand came up to cup my breast, and I bit my lip against the moan that built. His voice dropped to a whisper, his lips grazing my chin as his fingers found my nipple and tugged slightly. “Especially when I’m touching you like this . . . Don’t you think?”
Damn it. He was good.
With a sigh and a small flick of my wrist, the iron vanished.
The second the iron was gone, Rhys sighed in relief. “You’re more diabolical than I ever knew, you know that?”
“Now you know why I don’t walk around inking everyone with this sort of magic,” I said.
“Damn right.” He shuddered. “I’m terrified to imagine what the hell is going to happen to me when we actually have sex.”
My lips curved just as his mouth covered mine.
Chapter 11
Cupids & Cuties, the annual celebration that always took over Havenwood Falls, was three days away, and the evidence was all over town. I didn’t necessarily hate Valentine’s Day. Hating it would have required giving a shit in some way, which I didn’t. Normally, I had no problem ignoring the whole thing, though I did roll my eyes at the cliché hearts and cupids I ended up tattooing on couples this time of year. Still, I couldn’t hate on a holiday—or a town event—that was so good for business.
This year was different, though.
Business was already booming, thanks to the herbs wearing off. And Rhys Graywalk was currently walking next to me—a simple thing that made my heart race and my palms sweat. He was also eyeing the pink and red décor currently coating the town square.
“Wow, that’s a lot of pink,” he said.
“Ugh. It’s stupid is what it is.”
We’d had to park around the corner thanks to all the service vehicles delivering décor for the square. I wove through the swarm of them on our way from Rhys’ truck to my apartment. As if it wasn’t weird enough that Rhys Graywalk was about to see where I lived, now we had to navigate there through an entire herd of cardboard cupids being carried by delivery workers who wouldn’t stop smiling at me and offering a hello.
My life had become really fucking weird.
“When you say ‘stupid’ are you referring to Cupids & Cuties?” Rhys asked, increasing his pace to keep up with me. “Or the entire concept of Valentine’s Day?”
“All of it, yes, but mostly the event itself. The idea that an enchanted arrow can lead you to your true love and when it does, you have to kiss the person right there in front of a ballroom full of people? It’s bullshit.”
“Spoken like a true Grinch.”
I caught his teasing grin and scowled as I turned to climb the steps that led to the shop. “Are you saying you’re a fan?” I asked, suddenly nervous that he’d tell me he’d been there every year and made out with a different girl each time.
But he shook his head. “Actually, I’ve never been.” He bumped my shoulder. “I had a feeling the arrow wouldn’t work without you there, so I’ve always skipped it.”
My face heated, but I ducked my head, grumbling to cover up my pleasure at his words. “Well, I think love takes a lot more work to find than an enchanted arrow.”
“Can’t disagree there.”
At the top of the stairs, I unlocked the door of my shop and headed inside. I didn’t stop in the dark shop, but kept walking straight through to the next set of stairs that led up to my apartment. “You can just wait down here if you want,” I said, not bothering to look back in case it gave away just how nervous I was to have Rhys in my living quarters.
But his footsteps didn’t slow or stop, and his voice came from close behind me as I shoved open the door at the top of the steps. “No way. I’m not letting you out of my sight after last night.”
I bit back a quick retort, mostly because I didn’t want to ruin the agreement I’d managed to get out of him at all. I’d had a hell of a time convincing him to let me come here in the first place. And part of me would have been happy to stay away until all this was resolved, but I couldn’t afford not to be here when my first client showed. Not with the packed schedule I had thanks to the herbs wearing off and the people in this town actually wanting to be around me. Rhys had argued, but I’d convinced him to give me ten minutes. Not eleven. Ten. That was it. The plan was to grab a few things, reschedule all my appointments for the next couple of days, and get out again. Fast.
It should have been more than enough, but then I stepped through my front door, and the energy signature in my tiny one-bedroom hit me. It was fae, but it wasn’t mine.
I took a quick step back, but Rhys was even faster, grabbing me by the waist and yanking me behind him. I huddled behind him, my heart pounding. Rhys didn’t move a muscle as we both listened.
Outside, there was a thud, and my head whipped to the window. Rhys bolted, beating me there, and together we peered at the street below. I caught sight of a man’s shoulders and head just before the figure’s feet hit the ground. Once he’d landed, he looked up at us, and it took me a moment to register what I was seeing.
Walter Glass stood staring up at us from where he’d just swung himself down two floors using the rafters and railings. The only thing different about him from the last time I’d seen him, other than the fact that he was supposed to be dead, were his eyes. The brown color had changed to a bright yellow, glowing to an impossible hue before dimming again. He blinked, and the yellow vanished, replaced once again by the dull brown that I remembered.
“Impossible,” I said, but even as I breathed the word, his eyes flashed with fury, and a ripple of magic passed over his face. It was only a split second, but it was enough, and I realized why we hadn’t been able to identify the signature before.
“It’s a glamour,” Rhys said flatly.
I didn’t argue. I knew Rhys had received this particular gift during his Awakening, and now he could see through any fae’s glamour, Seelie or Unseelie, no matter how old or powerful.
“That’s not Walter,” I said, the hushed words coming out more like a question.
“No, it’s a fae glamoured to look like Walter. It’s also the same energy signature I sensed at Aelwyn’s. And again last night,” Rhys added. His voice was quiet now, like a simmering rage that he was keeping under tight control.
“Can you see his face?” I asked. “Do you recognize him?”
“Yes. I’ve never seen him before, but his markings suggest he’s an Unseelie soldier of some kind.”
“Seriously?” How in the hell would an Unseelie soldier get into Havenwood Falls unchecked?
Dead Walter stared up at us, and the full weight of the glamour resettled over his features before he took off at a full sprint. Rhys moved to follow, then stopped just short of the window that led to the fire escape.
“Why aren’t you going after him?” I asked.
He didn’t look up as he slid his phone out and started typing. “We need to know more about who and what we’re dealing with first.”
He had a good point, but still, letting a dead man run off through town didn’t seem like the smartest play. I eyed Rhys warily as he keyed in a few lines and sent a message. “You want to call the police?”
“Yes, but first, I want to reach out to my police contact to see if he can dig up anything else on Dead Walter. Then we’ll go see someone at the Court. Maybe one of them can tell us anything about that glamour we just saw.”
“And in the meantime?” I asked, already impatient as he set his phone aside and leaned against the counter.
“We wait.”
“I thought you said we weren’t safe here.”
“We’re safer than roaming the streets until we know more. If Walter wanted a fight here, he could have had it—and the element of surprise. Instead, he ran. I think we should lay low here until we know what our next move is.”
“Fine.” I sighed, resigning myself to sitting around for a bit when all I wanted to do was run outside and chase Walter down.
“Tell me about Walter’s other tattoos.”
“Walter doesn’t have any other tattoos,” I said slowly.
Rhys looked over at me. “Well, Dead Walter does, but they have a lot more magic in them then that hellhound did.”
I frowned at that. If Dead Walter was really an Unseelie fae, and he was covered in magical tattoos that I certainly hadn’t given him, that meant I wasn’t the only one with this ability.
“Do you think he found my mother?” I asked. “That he made her give him those tattoos?”
“No.”
He sounded so sure.
“How do you know?” I asked. “If he already has magic tattoos, he had to get them somewhere.”
“If something had happened to your mother, I would have heard, trust me. Besides, if he wants you badly enough to risk coming here, glamoured or not, it means he needs your gift. It means he doesn’t have it already. I think those tattoos were done by witch-magic. They felt different than yours.”
“Different how? What did they look like?” I asked.
“I only saw one of them clearly. It was an azurite stone.” He hit send and slid his phone away again before responding. “Azurite is a divination stone. It would . . . possibly allow him to see past the shields you have. To find you—if he knew what or who he was looking for.”
“What shields?” I asked.
“The mistletoe.” He nodded to the room around us. “And the cedar wood.”
“The cedar wood’s a shield?” That was news to me. Then again, hadn’t that letter from my birth mother mentioned cedar wood? Most of my furniture had been a gift from Aelwyn, but I didn’t think—
“It protects your house. Aelwyn spelled it to work against fae. Especially anyone not from Havenwood Falls.”
“Oh.” I blinked, stunned.
Rhys’ theory made sense. If the azurite tattoo had allowed him to pick up on what I really was, he would have ended up at Aelwyn’s for sure. Between her energy and mine, that house was laced with fae magic and enough cedar wood, or shielding, to make it clear we didn’t want to be found. I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinking back hot tears as I realized Aelwyn really had died because of me.
Rather than dwell on that here, now, under Rhys’ sharp eyes, I forced myself to focus on what Rhys was proposing about the azurite.
“Wait.” I blinked. “You think he came through one of the portals? But wouldn’t the Court have sensed that?”
“They would. They have,” he amended, looking only slightly guilty as he admitted, “I got a text from my contact yesterday morning. There was a breach a few days ago that they still haven’t identified.”
My eyes widened. “And you were planning on telling me this when exactly?”
He sighed. “It’s not like we’ve had time to really sit down and catch up on every little thing. We started to last night before your tattoo alarm system went off.”
I stalked to the chair beside my sagging couch. “Point taken. Let’s go ahead and do that now.”
“Gwen . . .” Rhys looked tired despite the fact that it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. I couldn’t blame him. We were both night owls, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been up before brunch.
“You wanted me to come to you for help, Rhys. And you told me that whole story last night about you being a Protector and where I really come from because you wanted me to trust you. Why ruin it now by keeping things from me?”
He shook his head. “I’m not hiding anything from you, Gwen. There’s a lot happening here, and I’m trying to keep up and keep you alive.”
I sighed. “You’re right. Sorry, I’m just stressed.”
“I know. Just . . . take your herbs,” he said, and I pushed to my feet. “We’ll start there. Get the shields back in place so people don’t see you so easily.”
I winced, and his eyes widened. “Shit, I’m sorry. That came out wrong. You know what I mean.”
“It’s fine.” I waved him off and turned toward the kitchen, where I kept my herbal supplements.
“It’s not fine,” he said, following me. “You’re scared, and you’re counting on me, and I don’t mean to insult you.”
“I . . .” What could I say? I was counting on him, but I wasn’t ready to admit that out loud. “I’d like to find a way to be of use in this whole thing,” I admitted instead.
“You will,” he said, with enough certainty I decided not
to admit how much I doubted that right now. “Your magic is strong, Gwen. More than enough to stop this guy from taking it or from hurting you.” He stepped closer, grabbing my hand with his own and spinning me to face him. “I believe in you.”
He barely applied pressure, but the contact alone was enough to halt me in place. I turned slowly and met his eyes, the look he gave going straight to my stomach. Butterflies flipped and flitted inside me. And the heat that curled there shot low, straight to my thighs. “Rhys,” I began.
He stepped closer, and I remembered the way he’d felt pressed against me when we’d first arrived. Not to mention kissing in his truck last night. And earlier this morning. The heat inside me seemed to warm the space between us, charging the air with a spark. Without consciously deciding to, I curled my fingers tighter around his, willing the moment to last. Suddenly, sitting and waiting for our next move didn’t seem so bad.
Rhys bowed his head, leaning in, and I held my breath. Every single thought of the danger and the uncertainty vanished. All that mattered was this moment.
A small voice deep down warned me against getting distracted right now. And Ethan scratched at my arm, reminding me of the very real danger we were both in until we found answers to why a dead man had been inside my apartment. But none of it penetrated the fog of my own desire. And for a moment, neither did the insistent buzzing of a phone that broke the silence between us.
The buzzing continued, and Rhys sighed, his breath warm as it washed over my face.
When he pulled away, I came crashing back to reality. We did not have time for this right now. Not with a glamoured fae on the loose and out to get me.
Rhys pulled out his phone, checking the screen before looking back at me, apology written all over his expression as he stepped away.
“It’s my contact at the Court,” he explained. “We need to go. Now.”
Chapter 12
From the cab of the truck, Rhys frowned as we both studied the empty spaces where tattoos had once covered my side and hip. The hellhound had left a large blank spot on the right, and then the chastity belt had disappeared on the left. Then there was the missing heart from where it had lived for a short time on my chest. It was strange seeing so much smooth, unmarked skin when the rest of me was practically covered in ink. Guilt pricked at me for the hound. And even more so for the heart. Not so much for the belt. Rhys had definitely deserved that one.
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