Page 33 of Consort

“What’s your name?” he asks.

He says it so casually, like he’s simply curious. But I don’t like the idea of him knowing my name. He already knows far more about me than I’m comfortable with. I’ll keep my name to myself, for some form of dignity if nothing else.

I look away, refusing to say another word. I can’t see his reaction, but I do notice my clothing folded neatly beside me. There’s no way I’m getting dressed with him watching. I don’t care how long we spent naked together.

After a few moments, I see his legs turn and begin carrying him away.

So, that’s it, then? He’s letting me go?

I throw off the cloak and scramble to get dressed before he decides to turn back around. Ignoring my bindings and undercloth, I throw on my leathers and tunic as quickly as I can. When he reaches the cave opening, he stops instead of stepping through.

Fuck. I was so close.

I search for my boots so I’ll have a chance at running, but the discarded cloak catches my eye. The crest on the front jumps out at me like a slap to the face. Everyone knows that crest belongs to the queen. We’re taught at a young age to run and hide if we see it. My stomach drops in horror as I realize the real danger I’m in.

He turns back when I gasp, and his eyes drop to the cloak. The concern that blossoms on his face is so convincing. The shame in his bright blue eyes is painted on flawlessly. I look back at the crest, needing it to remind me what a cunning a fae I’m dealing with.

“Yes, I’m a noble,” he says quietly.

When I glance up at him, he’s glaring at the cloak. I’m confused. I’d expected him to mock me after crushing my hopes of escape. But he looks almost angry about it. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’s just toying with me some more. I cross myarms over my chest, waiting for him to leave.

“I never wanted to be a noble,” he says, still not looking at me. “A few days ago, I killed Mitah, a high-ranking soldier. I was caught and taken to the queen, who forced me into becoming something I hate.”

Did he just say he killed Mitah? That bastard fae has plagued shifters for decades. He’s heartless, taking lives as casually as plucking fruit from a vine. We’ve changed the location of our camp twice because he was spotted too close to our territory. This fae says he killed him. Fae can’t lie. I’m unsure how anyone could makeI killed Mitahmean something else. I replay everything he’s said to me since I woke up, trying to recall his exact words.

You don’t need to fear me. I just wanted to help. I killed Mitah. I was forced...

“Say it again,” I demand.

His brows raise, but he obliges me. “I killed Mitah. I was forced to become a soldier.”

I was only asking for the Mitah part, but he continues. “I heard your cries and wanted to help you. You… showed me how to help.”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish for a noble. It’s probably an act. One I won’t be falling for.

“Anything else you want to know?” he mutters at the floor.

There is so much I want to know. But the only thing that matters right now is my safety. “Do you mean me harm?” I ask. “Be clear.”

He finally looks up at me and drops his hand from his neck. “No. I mean you no harm. In fact, I want to help you more, if you’ll allow me.”

Is he implying he wants to mate with me again? How dare he say that to me!

“You willnevertouch me again!” I growl.

My fangs emerge for the first time since presenting. They’re long, sharp, and empowering. I feel fierce, like an Alpha. Like a predator instead of the prey. For once, it feels like someone needs protectionfromme. I take an aggressive step toward the fae and snarl, proudly showing them off.

“You helped. Now, get the fuck away from me!”

“No! Not like that!” he says, throwing his hands up and backing away. “It was… I mean…” he grips his hair with both hands and grits his teeth. “I just want to help you get to safety.”

As I consider whether to believe him, the new little hut that’s become a home comes to mind. “Mother,” I whisper around my new fangs. “Fuck.Fuck!”

She must be worried sick. Or worse! She could have been hurt or killed trying to find me. I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my mother. I spot my boots near the cave opening and stomp toward the useless fae, driven by adrenaline and prepared to shove him out of the way if necessary.

As I pass, warm hands grip my arms, and his soothing voice tries to shush me. I flinch and jerk away from him.

“What did I say about touching me?” I snap.

---