Trapped

by Jessica Lynch

  When I blink them open again, fluttering my eyelids to get my sight back, I focus on Rys. He has this wild look in his eyes, his mouth pulled in an angry line. His shoulders are hunched yet, surprisingly, it makes him seem bigger than normal. The silhouette from the burst of faerie fire surrounding him only adds to his air of danger.

  I could use the comfort. So, it seems, can Rys.

  He’s pissed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I—”

  How do I tell him? He told me that all I’d have to do is hold up the lantern and it should hold Dusk off. Only I threw it at the Unseelie guard and now he’s barbeque. Shit. Why wouldn’t I be tossed down into… well, it’s a hole, isn’t it?

  A big, ol’ fucking hole in the ground.

  As I hesitate, trying to figure how to explain what happened when I don’t really know what happened, Rys dials some of his overt fury back.

  Oh, he’s still fuming. It’s just not as obvious.

  He’s watching me closely. I don’t even know if he’s blinked yet. Purposely avoiding his stare, I glance around the space. There might not have been an army of green “helping hands” to lower me into the hole, but that doesn’t mean my brain has finally given up on the Labyrinth references.

  “It’s an oubliette,” I mumble under my breath.

  “What are you saying?”

  I wave my hand around me. At the packed dirt floor, at the rocky wall, at the empty pit that has me and Rys inside of it and that’s all. “The captain told the guards to put me in the shadows. I, unh, I guess this counts.”

  “No. You said something else. What did you call it?”

  “An oubliette.” My voice comes out as a tremor as my situation sinks in. Empty means no toilet. No bed. Just Rys and his fire and, holy shit, what am I supposed to do now? “It’s… it’s this place where you put people to forget about them.”

  “That’s an apt description.” He looms over me, his hands splayed along his thighs as if he wants to touch me but won’t. “What happened? Tell me now. I made a deal. You were never to know this place.”

  I shake my head. I can’t bring myself to tell him.

  My teeth suddenly start to chatter. Part of me wonders if it’s shock mixed with fear. I mean, I’m trapped in a hole with a dangerous criminal whose fire just burned an Unseelie guard to a crisp. Did Rys know? I can’t bring myself to ask. Am I frightened?

  I’m scared shitless.

  But not of Rys. The realization slams into me and I let it give me the strength to pull myself out of the dirt.

  Nothing’s broken. That’s one positive. I was terrified during my free-fall that I would splat at the bottom and that would be the end of me. My hip is screaming and I’ll have one hell of a bruise on my shoulder before long, but the pain is tolerable.

  The dark expression on Rys’s face isn’t.

  Did he know? When he gave me the fire, did he know what was going to happen when I opened the latch again?

  Only one way to find out.

  “Dusk came to the cell—”

  Rys is a Light Fae. He draws strength from the day, and his power revolves around fire. The edge of the fire turns midnight blue as he goes cold.

  His voice is nothing short of frosty as he demands, “Did he touch you?”

  “He tried to.”

  Rys spits something out in another language.

  The fire grows. It was hovering around his waist, but as soon as I say that, it’s like he loses control of it. In another burst, it expands until the flames reach higher than Rys’s head.

  I can’t help it. It’s still too fresh. In my mind’s eye, I can see the fire streaming toward Dusk, engulfing him from head to toe. The fire is behind him, but that doesn’t stop me from imagining Rys in Dusk’s place, being burned alive as I’m helpless to do anything to stop it.

  I scream.

  Rys pulls the fire all the way in. The roaring bonfire becomes a spark that he palms in his hand. Not enough to frighten me, but enough to illuminate his beautiful face as he looks right at me.

  “You’re safe here. I won’t hurt you. The fire won’t hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

  I want to believe that.

  “You touched it. It knows you. Listen to me. Everything will be fine.”

  I nod.

  “Good. Now that we’ve settled that, tell me what happened. If you protected yourself, that shouldn’t have been enough to break my bargain. Why are you here?”

  A chill seeps into the air. I noticed it before when Rys killed the fire, but it’s only becoming more noticeable. Is this shock? Probably.

  For the first time, I realize that I’m in my tank top and my jeans, but that’s all. I don’t have my coat. Goosebumps erupt along my bare skin and I eye the fire warily.

  “Can you… will the fire help? I didn’t feel it before, but I’m freezing.”

  He can tell that I’m changing the subject. To my surprise, he lets me.

  Crouching down low, careful not to spook me, he holds out his hand. Trying not to brush my palm against his, I extend my fingers. I’m not trying to actually touch it—I don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough to do that again after what I saw—but I’m desperate for some kind of warmth.

  I curse under my breath. I’m millimeters away from actually putting my fingers in the flame and… nothing.

  “Just as I thought. You really are immune to my fire.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “You’re the first. I can control the flames, send them where I want, but if I don’t, my target will always burn. They always have… until you.” He pauses for a moment, then folds his hand into a fist, snuffing out the last of the spark. “I can smell the fire clinging to your skin. You set loose my gift, didn’t you? At Dusk. That’s why you’re here.”

  Though there are still bright spots from the fire in front of my eyes, the dark makes it so much easier to tell him, “Yes.”

  “Ah, Leannán.” His voice softens, that hypnotic lilt finding its way to it as sorrow tempers his anger. “I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. I only wanted to protect you when I wasn’t there.”

  He did, didn’t he?

  Rys… he saved me. Whether he meant to or not, he saved me by giving me the fire. The outcome might have been more terrible than I would’ve thought, but there’s no denying it worked.

  Today.

  But what about next time?

  It can happen again. The only reason Dusk waited to come after me was that he was afraid of Veron. Dusk warned off the other guards. If he was being rushed to a healer, he won’t be around to do that again—and what happens if he comes back?

  Shit.

  What happens now?

  It all comes down to being an unclaimed human. So long as the fae look at me like a prize to be won or something rare and unique they can own, I’ll always have to look over my shoulder and be wary. Just because Veron finally gave up on me, that just means I have a prison full of fae to look out for. Something tells me that Dusk was only the first.

  What if he was the last?

  What… what if someone touched me?

  This isn’t the first time I’ve had that thought. When I was staying in the cell opposite of Posey’s, I wondered just how terrible it would be to invite one of the kinder guards into my cell. Saxon, perhaps, or Kyr. Definitely not Dusk, but someone who would take just enough and then leave me the hell alone.

  I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though. I’m not naive. Especially so close to the succubus, one thing would definitely lead to another. It wouldn’t just be a touch. It would be more than that—and I just couldn’t do it.

  I just never found one of the fae that I was willing to give all that power to while also opening myself up to them.

  Until now.

  Rys.

  Rys is perfect.

  He’s been good to me. He’s never made a move. It might just be possible that I could offer him a touch in exchange for him to keep wa
tching out for me. Add it to our own little bargain. He’s not into me like that. I wouldn’t have to worry about him taking it too far.

  And if he did?

  I’ve been lonely for so long. He’s my cellmate. If I’m going to be stuck in Siúcra for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t be so terrible to make him something more.

  That’s even assuming I’m going to survive the prison after this...

  I need a protector. I need someone I can trust.

  I need him.

  9

  “Leannán? You’ve been quiet for too long. That’s not like you. Everything is going to be alright. The shadows are cold, but they won’t harm you. You’ll be safe with me.”

  The shadows won’t harm me because I’m a human. Because this is a punishment for a Seelie.

  And I haven’t even checked on him yet.

  “I... I’m okay.” I think. “What about you?”

  “I’m used to it.”

  I start to laugh, a hollow sound that is quickly cut off when my teeth chatter again. The click-ing of tooth against tooth is impossible to control without risking my tongue. I’m scared and confused and, damn it, it really is fucking cold down here. The shock is still tearing through me, making me second-guess if my brain is working right since all I want to do is throw myself at him.

  He edges closer to me. I can’t see him move, but I can sense it.

  “I feel the chill coming off of you. You need more heat.”

  I need something alright.

  It’s hard to make out what he’s doing since it’s so dark. My eyes have adjusted a little, but he’s one, big shadow shifting in the black space in front of me.

  What is he—

  Oh.

  He starts to remove his shirt. It’s the same standard-issue that I’ve seen on the few prisoners the guards have led past my cell: white and plain, woven into a fabric that looks like it might be warmer than my tank. Thicker than Posey’s flimsy uniform.

  I know I should’ve grabbed my jacket. There wasn’t any time. The guards plucked me from the cell and brought me here with Dusk’s shouts still ringing in my ears. I’m probably torn to ribbons on my arms where the gloves ripped right through my skin, and my poor jacket is probably garbage by now.

  “Take this. It might help.”

  I don’t even give a shit that taking his shirt might put me into his debt. The white material floats in the darkness and I snatch it from him before shrugging it on.

  It retains his heat and his scent and, holy shit, I just want to wrap myself up in it forever.

  “You’re so warm,” I whisper, tugging that close.

  “I’m a Light Fae,” he says, if that’s all the answer I need.

  That’s right. He is a fae.

  And now he’s a half-naked one.

  The words are out before I can take them back. “The fire didn’t help with the cold, but I hate how dark it is down here. Do you think you could…”

  I don’t even have to finish the request. With a pop, a small fireball appears a few inches above his palm. Not enough to frighten me again, but the right amount of light to shed some illumination on the oubliette—and the shirtless fae in here with me.

  So, yeah. He’s definitely half-naked.

  I need a distraction. That’s how I justify it to myself. I’m hurting, and I’m afraid, and the sculpted, tanned, bare chest in front of me is just what I need right now. Am I staring? Too bad. Drooling? I can’t help it.

  It’s been so long. Things between Jim and me… he’s been more like my roommate than my boyfriend for a while now.

  Even before I crossed into Faerie, I was touch-starved. Lonely. It’s only gotten worse since I landed in a world where a simple embrace would cost me everything.

  Can it get any worse? After what happened with Dusk...

  I can’t let that happen again. I won’t. Being at the mercy of one of the guards… no. I’d rather get it over with, get rid of the whole “untouched” stigma once and for all.

  The more I think about, the more my plan seems perfect. Rys seems to have this hero complex going on; I’m a human and he wants to save me. Why don’t I let him?

  “How are you now?”

  “Better,” I admit. “But… you’re so warm. I can feel the heat seeping from your shirt. It won’t last on me. Unless…”

  “What are you asking me?”

  I shrug, trying not to come across as too desperate. There’s nothing sadder than throwing yourself at someone and having them reject you. It’s worth the risk right now, but I have to do this just right.

  “I was wondering if we could share body heat. You know? I could cuddle up to you and then we can both be warm.”

  Rys’s fire flickers out. The shadows fill the air around us.

  Good going, Hel. Real smooth.

  A second later, another pop. The fire is back, throwing shadows against Rys’s closed-off expression. “You want to touch me?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I’d have to touch you in return.”

  Yeah, Rys. That’s kind of how it works.

  I don’t say that, though I think it. He didn’t say no. He’s not completely opposed to the idea.

  I can work with this.

  Taking a deep breath, letting Rys’s shirt fall off my shoulders so that my bare skin is visible to him, I say huskily, “What if I said that was okay?”

  “I’d say that you have no idea what you’re talking about. But I also won’t stop you.” Then, under his breath, he mutters, “I’m not that strong.”

  I’ve got him.

  Yes.

  His eyes dart away. When they return, the golden color is closer to molten lava. His gaze roams over my face before dipping low. His jaw tightens, an angry flash flickering in the fire’s shadows. He extends his free hand, his fingers ghosting over the side of my arm.

  “They cut you. I should kill them for that.”

  Talking about murder shouldn’t be as sexy as he makes it sound. Rys’s voice dropped, a gruff edge roughing it up as he focuses on the slices and dried blood that cover my bare arms.

  I… actually forgot about that. I kind of hurt everywhere; those were the least of my worries. As Rys glares at the marks, though, I decide not to tell him about the others. I don’t know if he can handle it.

  And I’m not really sure why he cares.

  “Diamaint gloves,” I say by way of explanation. “They didn’t want to touch me.” I hesitate, then remember why I’m doing this. “I didn’t want them to.”

  “But you’re begging for my touch.”

  I guess I am, aren’t I?

  Don’t care.

  “Yes.”

  He drops his hand onto my arm. In a flash, from that one simple touch, I understand just why Veron and Dusk were itching to put their paws on me.

  It. Feels. Amazing.

  Pleasure courses through me. It’s the only way I can explain it. Everything in me tightens, like I’m on the verge of a monster orgasm. If he so much as stroked me, I swear I’d go off like a rocket.

  My knees shake. This is from one touch? On my arm?

  Holy shit.

  “Leannán? Are you alright?”

  “Yeah?” Oops. My voice is shaky, too. I gulp and try again. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt now that you’re touching me.”

  His thumb brushes against the top of my shoulder. “Then I should touch you some more.” He lifts his hand away from my skin. “Do you give me permission? Do you want more?”

  Desperately.

  “Come here. I’ll… what did you say? Allow you to cuddle up to me and share my warmth. So long as we’re stuck in the shadows, you can depend on me.”

  He says while we’re stuck in the shadows. I just have to convince him to want to continue watching my back even after they let us out.

  If they let us out.

  Before I can move toward him, Rys ducks down. Using his free hand, he digs a small pit into the dirt floor, then settles his faerie fire in t
he dip. It’s kind of like a makeshift campfire, giving us enough light so that we can see each other.

  He wipes his dirty hand on his pants, then lowers himself to the ground. He positions his back up against the wall before holding his hand out to me.

  “I’m ready when you are. Don’t be afraid—”

  “I’m not.”

  I can tell that he expects me to sidle up next to him, to cozy up to his side. Yeah, nope. He agreed to this. He said I can touch him.

  I’m going to touch him the way I want to.

  I straddle him and Rys lets me. I tell myself it’s because he’s being kind and that he knows I’m so cold, but it’s more than that. I heard his murmur, and I saw the look that crossed his face when he first laid his hand on my arm.

  He felt it, too.

  I wrap my arms around his bare waist. I still have his shirt hanging off the crook of my elbows. I could probably offer it back to him since he’s allowing me to share his body heat… but I don’t. It’s fine where it is.

  Just like I’m fine where I am.

  The first rush of touching him was intoxicating. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or bad that, the longer I cling to him, the easier it is to tolerate. It still feels amazing, but it’s more controllable. His embrace makes me feel loved and safe while also lulling me into a false sense of security.

  I never want to leave his side.

  Of course, that’s part of the magic. I’m not so far gone that I don’t realize that. It’s the big reason why I put off allowing one of the fae to touch me for so long. Once you do, you’re hooked. You lose any of the power you have, swinging the balance right toward the already powerful mythical race. I can already tell that I’d do anything to feel this again.

  Which is why, as soon as I’ve warmed up enough, I start to slide off of Rys’s lap.

  I haven’t gone more than a few inches when his hands snap out, gripping my waist. The whole time I was holding onto him, Rys was silent. As soon as I try to give him his space, he speaks up.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he rumbles.

  Is it just me or does the newfound deep timbre to his voice sound even sexier?