Page 7 of Caged By Dance and Desire

Every muscle in my body tensed. “And that would be a complication.”

He snorted. “They'll learn about you eventually. But for the brief time your presence is a secret, that knowledge is valuable and can be used against me in ways I'm now forced to defend against. Itpissesme off. I still don't understand why people trouble me when I don't trouble them.”

It sounded an awful lot like “he made me do it/why can't we all just get along without me having to kill people” in a sort of serial killer fashion. My formally calm, gentle, slightly amused Andrei was growing moodier by the moment. His seething emotions settled in my chest, a litany of Cassanian words in the back of my mind.

I considered his words, reaching for context. “You're a High Lord. Which means you're part of the High Court. And you're old. I suppose you deal with a lot of politics.” Fae style politics, which we'd been told involved magic and death. Not just pettier things like bribery and corruption.

“I have duties to the Court which I can't set aside easily, or at all,” he said. “I'm sorry. I'll try to shield you as much as I can.”

I folded my legs underneath me. “That's the thing, Andrei. I know you want me to believe my life isn't going to change. That I can continue dancing in some kind of bubble you create for me where nothing in your life bleeds over?—”

“That is exactly what I want you to believe because that is the truth.”

I shook off his flinty, precise tone, the clarity of his certainty mingling with my more fractured emotions.

“Now who's being naive? The first thing Larry did—and I guess he must have recognized you somehow—was try to sell me out because even he, a dumb human, understood the ramifications. I don't even fully understand them. Whoareyou, Andrei?”

And how was I feeling what he felt? I’d thought I was imagining things at first, but certainty solidified. His emotions merged with mine—infrequently, but separate enough I felt them as his rather than my own. I’d accepted Mathen’s presence and comfort as if we were old friends, and I wouldn’t consider myself a person who opened up or trusted easily.

Soulbound, he’d said. Now I was starting to understand the practical implications of the connection.

The shadows around him dissipated as he stepped forward. “You said you wouldn't run from me, Hasannah.”

I frowned, breath slightly uneven. “I'm not running.”

“You are. I hear it in your voice. You cannot run from me.” He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “It wouldn't be safe. Untilthings between us are settled and I have better control over my emotions. . .it wouldn't be safe for you to run from me.”

“I don't know if it's safe to be with you either.”

I almost didn't want to say the words, afraid of his reaction. I hadn't beenthisafraid of him when we first met. . .but after seeing Larry, I'd be an idiot not to fear a man who housed a ruthless killer in his soul.

Not a man, of course, which was the problem. A Fae High Lord. They were all killers. Killing was what they did. For revenge, for power, for sport. . .

. . .for love?

There was something to be said for a culture where eliminating romantic rivals by murdering them was expected. Larry had threatened me in a sexual manner, would his death have been so brutal if he'd been a woman, or if the threat had been of a different nature?

“You don't think I can protect you?” he asked.

A slight shift in Andrei's tone warned me, not that I needed another warning, though reminders were always helpful.

“From others? I'm sure you can. From yourself? That's mostly what I'm afraid of.”

“I already promised you that?—”

“I know what you promised me.”

Wincing, I doubled down on the temerity that allowed me to interrupt him. But this was my life we were talking about. My dance. They were one and the same.

“I understand that promises aren't unbreakable Vows,” I said. “What happens when you decide I'm in enough danger that breaking your promise to me is the lesser of two evils?”

The heat of his anger scorched the atmosphere, pulsing in my chest. A sound close to a snarl rippled through the room and suddenly I was sprawled on my back, caged by the predator who crouched above me. I didn't move, calling on all my training not to provoke the monster by throwing myself off the bed.

His eyes glowed with inner power, blue-green gems piercing the darkness. He lowered his head, rubbing his cheek against mine, the silk of his shoulder-length hair caressing my skin. I shivered.

“You don't trust me,” he said, surprising me a little with how normal his voice now sounded. “I understand. I'll prove myself to you. But in the meantime, you won't run.”

And if she ran he would catch her and chain her to his bed and teach her why a little mortal girl shouldn’t disobey a High Lord. She might shriek and protest at first, but he would lick her until she liked it. Until she begged.

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