Page 57 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

Rainn let go of my throat. “I suppose not.”

I bit back a whimper of disappointment, smoothing my face of all expression.

Locked in a stalemate, we stared as if waiting for something that neither of us understood.

Tormalugh rolled over in his sleep, and the spell was broken just as the couple next door reached their final crescendo.

Chapter 11

We woke as dawn crested the sky, and the smell of the fire renewed in the morning light. The camp drifted to life slowly as people emerged from their tents to have their first meal.

I hadn’t noticed the day before, but the firelight hid all manner of sins—nymphs did not favor clothing that covered much of anything. Their faces were painted, and their stomachs were left bare with patterns on their skin even though the ground was coated in snow.

My breath fogged in front of me as I settled by the fire, alone. Tormalugh and Rainn seemed content to sleep under the furs, but something had crept under my skin in the night—a niggling feeling that something was going to happen. The same feeling that had stopped me from traveling through the chasm.

I chewed my fingernail as I watched the fire rebuilt in the morning light. Shay emerged from a tent, and though he was greeted by several others, he chose to sit on the log next to me.

“Making sure I don’t abscond from the camp and go back to the lake?” I joked as I stared into the fire.

“Your uncle tried to kill you,” Shay pointed out, smiling as someone passed by as if we were talking about something as harmless as the weather. “I doubt you’d want to return to Cruinn.”

His words hit too close to home. “Where did you sleep last night?” I asked, affecting disinterest as I changed the subject.

Shay’s lip twisted before he pressed his tongue against his canine tooth. “Jealous?”

“Hardly,” I snorted.

“You shouldn’t ask whereIwas sleeping when I know you were sandwiched between two men last night under the furs.” Shay winked.

I rolled my eyes. “As if that’s the same assharingthe furs.”

“Sound travels.” Shay’s brows rose innocently. “Enough to know that the selkie expressed interest in pursuing you.”

“You must have heard an entirely different conversation,” I muttered. “Because that didn’t happen.”

“Are you dense or in denial?” Shay leaned forward and picked up a twig before throwing it into the flames.

“I’ll plant my foot up your arse if you call me dense again.” My eyes narrowed.

Shay rolled his eyes to the morning sky as if praying to the gods.

“Besides,” I shifted to get comfortable, “I’m a captive.”

“Certainly.” Shay bit back a smile. “A mouthy one at that.”

I bared my teeth. “What is to happen once we reach Tarsainn? I can’t see this going the way that you want it to. As you said, my uncle tried to kill me—he isn’t going to want to barter for my release, regardless of what information I may divulge to his enemies. I don’t have any deep or impressive magic. I haven’t even reached my magical majority. At this point, I have no clue why you didn’t leave my body on the Frosted Sands, surrounded by my dead kin.” What started as a fierce rant slowly tapered into confusion and hurt. “Don’t say you plan to mate me because that requires my agreement.”

Shay’s gaze softened as I ran out of steam, and my shoulders dropped.

He reached forward to pat my arm before deciding against it, clenching his fist tightly and placing it back at his side. The nymph took a moment to parse his words. “Perhaps we saw something in you that we see in ourselves.”

My brow creased. “Arrogance?”

Shay bit back a smile. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“How did you all become friends anyway?” I asked, glancing at the tent where Rainn and Tor were still sleeping. “You all come from different creeds. You are very different people.”

“How did we have cause to meet, you mean?” Shay tilted his head to the side.

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