if I made the wrong choice, staying here?
If I did, I don’t think there’s any taking it back now.
21
Talia
When night falls, I’m wide awake. I must have dozed too much during the day between restless tossing and turning in my bed.
I sit by my bedroom window for a while, watching the fields and the forest beyond sink into almost total darkness. The moon is nothing but a thin sliver. Just past the halfway point before it’s full again.
Whitt’s last snarky remark echoes through my head. I flop down on the mattress, hoping that my body will take the hint and relax, but my heart keeps thumping a little too fast. My thoughts flit through my mind like nervous birds in an undersized cage.
Kellan is gone, but he was never the real threat. The real threat is the power of my blood and what using that power could mean for Sylas and his pack.
Maybe it won’t be so bad if I stay here. If I made it back to the human world, I’d be starting over from scratch anyway—no friends, no close family, no full education, no money. All the dreams I had will be even more out of reach than when I was twelve. My life there could be pretty awful.
The keep has plenty of space for me to roam around in; I’ve been able to keep myself entertained. I get to gorge myself on three fantastic meals every day. The atmosphere could be outright peaceful without Kellan’s harassment. We might even get to the point where Sylas feels comfortable letting me go with them outside during the night when it’s less likely anyone will spot me.
I’d take that living situation over not living at all any day. He could collect a little of my blood once a month as he needs it, as gently as he did that once…
But as soon as the cadre starts distributing that “cure” beyond the keep, Aerik will catch on, won’t he? He’ll know they must be the ones who broke into his fortress and ran off with me. If he can prove it, will he be able to reclaim me? I don’t know how faerie laws work.
And it’s not just about having the cure. Sylas wants to regain the status he lost, to return his pack to a better home closer to the Heart of the Mists. Can he do that while keeping me, or will he have to turn me over to these arch-lords and let them treat me however they like?
I trust him not to let anyone abuse me while I’m under his roof, but can I be sure he wouldn’t hand me over to someone he knows might be cruel where he doesn’t have to witness it?
The memory of the way he looked at me this morning, the momentary heat in his gaze, swims up through those uneasy questions. Fae men can find me desirable. August made that much clear, even if he didn’t want to follow through on his interest. I’ve felt Sylas’s body against mine before—I know how thrilling his powerful presence can be. Thinking about him now, a tingle forms between my legs where the jet and my own fingers stroked the sensitive folds to so much satisfaction yesterday.
What if I gave him a little more incentive to keep me around? Showed him I’m willing to not just cooperate with his tests and rules but to become his lover as well? Obviously he’d never become as devoted to me as he must have been to his former mate, but every bit of affection I can encourage in him is one more reason for him to hold on to me rather than send me away.
As I turn the possibility over in my mind, more tendrils of warmth unfurl low in my belly. My understanding of the actual act of sex comes mostly from the awkward health classes in middle school and a book my parents gave me after a hasty version of “The Talk.” I know which parts come together and all that. It’s hard to imagine sharing my body like that with… well, anyone, let alone Sylas with his massive frame.
But everything about my time here tells me he’d be careful with me. He wouldn’t want to hurt me.
I might even enjoy it.
Once the idea has taken hold, I can’t shake it. I roll one way and the other on the bed and finally sit up.
Only a glimmer of starlight shines through the window. The room is