I bit my lip. The threatening grin spread. "So you're a visual guy, huh?"
Cass let out a breathy laugh. "Very. If you'd like admiration, I'm happy to lend a roving eye." He reached up and rubbed at his temples, making a playful grimace. "You're truly not angry at me?"
"I'm really not," I said. I nudged his couch cushion with my toes again, making my anklet chime. "Not right now, at least, and definitely not for you getting me off."
That phrasing made his thighs tense again, but in a sexy way. Cass looked back over at me, covering his mouth like he was hiding his expression. "For other things, though?"
Not wanting to make him feel worse, I shrugged, a little uncomfortably. "It was a pretty unpleasant six weeks. I really…" I sighed through my nose, looking away. "It would have been nice to have been rescued instead of having to bushwhack my way here. There were a couple times I got caught up by the Court, too. For days, maybe. That was pretty existentially scary."
"But there's things you want from me?" he pressed. He leaned forward, dark eyes searching my expression. "Things I could do as restitution?"
He's so fae, I thought, watching him. That visceral desire for balance was alien to me. It seemed so self-centered; focused on one's own ledger instead of that of one's family or the world as a whole. It made me uncomfortable, even – or especially – knowing that it was in his very nature.
"Ehh." I got up and sauntered over to the small table of snacks, browsing through it. "I don't really hold with that sort of thing, and even if I did, I don't feel like you owe me anything for it, so… kind of hard to tally the ledger for it."
"There aren't any true debts between us. I know that," he offered after a moment. "Those bound soul-to-soul cannot owe each other anything, because everything one possesses, the other does as well. There's no measure of debt between us for me to feel weighing down on me. It doesn't work that way." Cass let out a tired sigh. "Yet I've mistreated you, even by ignorance, and that shifts the balance between us towards an oppositional one."
I turned, toying with a bite-sized nut pie. "Aren't they all supposed to be good? That's what Danica said."
The corner of his mouth tilted up into a self-deprecating smile. "As valuable as opposition can be in one's life, I admit that I'm desperately envious of what Vad has in Dani, and I'd much prefer we found our balance in alignment."
"Hm." I tilted my head to the side, enjoying the way the ends of my hair felt against my bare shoulders and the way Cass' eyes kept flickering down to my cleavage. "I don't mind a bit of sparring in my life, but if you want something softer, you could get me flowers or something. I like pretty things and fun adventures. Shiny jewelry. I dunno."
One ear tilted towards me as an expression of puzzlement settled on his face. "Flowers hardly seem like an equal repayment for six weeks of suffering."
"So?" I countered. "It can be a good start, or whatever. You can't argue me out of liking the things I like." I shook my head and put the pie back down, not really hungry enough to snack before dinner. "I guess I'll look forward to seeing what you decide to do about it."
His brows pulled together in an expression of mild confusion. "But we haven't concluded a bargain."
I made a face at him. "I haven't really had a great time making bargains with fae thus far, splendor," I pointed out. "Besides, relationships are supposed to be conversations, right? Not formal negotiations."
"I'm fae," he said, sounding lost.
"And I'm mortal," I replied. "Don't like your measure of our balance? You know how to change it. We don't need a bargain for that."
The Deep End
Cass watched me with an expression of wary consternation. His ears kept shifting like a nervous cat's, turning towards sounds I couldn't hear with sharp, animalistic movements. The line between his dark brows deepened.
"Do you…" He swallowed. "Do you even want to get to know me? To be here?"
Nobody bothered to coordinate our clothing. The idle thought flitted through my mind as I examined him, a discordant note that made me frown. We were supposed to be a unit: the Merciful King and Queen, a soulmated pair, bound to the Court and to each other.
We couldn't have looked more different. The petite mortal woman in her delicate body-chains and sultry violet silk, and the brawny fae man clad in black leather and bronze linen. Agility versus brute strength, and beauty versus power.
I didn't like the contrast. Had no one looked at him and seen the perfection of his face or the graceful control of his body? Had no one looked at me and seen the lean strength of my arms or the viciousness behind my dark eyes?
"Do I have a choice?" I asked quietly, meeting his gaze without challenge or fear.
Cass flinched back, dropping his eyes. "There's always a choice," he said, his voice going husky and ears pinning back. "You're formally tied to Mercy, and thus to me, but Dani is a breaker. She's a powerful mage," he continued. It sounded like he was forcing the words out through his throat, and that pain transferred to me in a sense of tightness that ran from my jaw to my gut. "Since we're neither balanced nor strongly bound, if I cooperated, and granted her the power and access to my soul, I think she could break that connection."
I frowned at him.
He took a deep breath, not looking up at me. His wings started trembling, the feathers ting-ting-tinging against themselves. "It would certainly hurt, and leave us both damaged, but it could still be done." Cass swallowed again. "I would, of course, still see to it that you and your family were cared for monetarily. I—" His breath hitched. He closed his eyes in obvious pain. "I will do it if you ask it of me. You don't have to be here."
That despair left me shaky, my hands trembling and skin prickling. I wasn't sure if that was because of him or because of the darkness of his words and promise, but it made me uneasy. My brows pulled together. "Why are you so eager to see me go?" I asked, unable to keep my hurt leashed. "I know I'm not exactly the finest specimen of womanhood around, but—"
"Quyen, don't think that of me," he said, cutting me off and looking back up at me with obvious exhaustion. "I want you to stay. I don't mean to be a poor partner in this, or to make you feel as if I'm unwilling to learn how we correspond. I simply…" His brow creased. "I want you to choose to stay, rather than feeling that you must, whether for the sake of your family or because you feel trapped. I'm trapped here, but you aren't. I'm willing to let you go. I'm willing to help you go. If—"