Page 104 of Crown of Roses
She did, with all of her heart and soul, but she didn’t want Parisa and her minions to be the ones to do it. She would have to defer and find a way to stall this madness. “What if I can’t control it?”
“That’s where I come in.” Parisa dragged her fingers along the cell’s metal bars and her nails clinked in warning. “I have been hunting for you since I first felt that which was taken from me breathe again. It was why I sent Rowan in search of you. It was why I would stop at nothing to find you.”
Maeve’s heart quit on her.
“You…you sent Rowan to hunt me down?” Rowan. Rowan had been sent to find her. To capture her. To bring her back to Faeven. Cold sweat beaded along her forehead, and she struggled for air within the dank walls of the cell. No. He wouldn’t…it was too much. Too awful. He wouldn’t stoop so low. All the things he’d said, all the things he’d done. The crushing weight of despair lodged itself somewhere between her heart and lungs. But Casimir…When Cas found her in the summer woods, he told her Rowan returned to Spring. What if he intended to turn her over to Parisa? And perhaps he would have done so, if Casimir hadn’t found her first.
“Where is Casimir?” Maeve demanded.
“Now, don’t you fret.” She pulled the key from the lock and tossed it to Fearghal. “We’ve got a special room just for him.”
Fear gripped her, an icy-cold vise that slicked her skin with frost. “If you hurt him, I swear it, I’ll kill you.”
Parisa tossed her head back and laughed, then pretended to wipe away a fallen tear. “You’re simply too much, you know that? No wonder so many adore you.” Her honeyed gaze landed on Fearghal. “Take them off.”
Maeve struggled against her bindings but there was no give, and the ragged threads of rope rubbed her flesh raw while her attempt at escape failed.
“Oh, don’t worry, darling. I have no intent on keeping you hostage. You’re only down here in the dungeon so no one can hear you scream.” Parisa’s head tilted, considering her. Then she smiled, and it was terrifying. “We’re going to be the best of friends, just wait and see.”
“Let me go!” Maeve jerked back and forth, but she couldn’t break free. Something hot and wet slid down her hand, and the rope dug deeper into her skin, burning it.
Parisa gathered up the hem of her dress and swept out of the cell, with Kane following in her wake. “Send for me once it’s done.”
Fearghal nodded.
“You can’t do this!” Wrath ripped through Maeve, and darkness bloomed in her chest. She would set the Spring Court ablaze. “You’ll never get away with this! You’ll watch your beloved city burn, and I’ll be the one to set it on fire!”
Tinkling laughter answered her.
“We’ll see,” Parisa hummed as she disappeared into the pitch black of the cavernous dungeon.
The rush of turbulent anger melted into bitter fear when Fearghal stood before her. In the dismal shred of light, corded black veins ran up and down his arms. A set of curved horns protruded from his head, curling away form his long ears. His eyes flickered over her, and he pulled a dagger from the band at his waist. It glowed like iron burning over a molten core. “I think I liked you better when you were dancing.”
Dancing?
Maeve’s heart plummeted into the acidic ball of fire burning in her stomach. Oh no. Dancing. That’s where she’d heard his name before. He was the fae Tiernan protected her from when she’d been by herself at the Autumn Ceilie. He was the one who’d been watching her, waiting to pounce. She paled.
“So, you do remember me? How nice.” He smiled, displaying a set of pointy teeth. “Let’s see what the sorceress has been keeping from us, shall we?”
There were few moments in Maeve’s life where she humbled herself enough to beg, and seeing Fearghal with malevolence enhancing his every move, stooped her to such a level. “Please don’t do this.”
He spread his hands wide and the blade banked like embers. “A shame you ask so nicely, but orders are orders.”
“You don’t have to follow them.” If she could just keep him talking, maybe she could convince him not to follow through. “You can free me. You can let me go. You could come with me.”
He gathered up Maeve’s hair and she stilled, holding her breath until he draped all of it over one shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty hair.”
“Please, Fearghal. Please don’t do this.”
“But I enjoy it.” He grinned and flashed his fangs once more.
Maeve reared back. “Anything,” she blurted out. “I’ll do anything. I’ll make you a deal, anything you ask.”
He bent down and peered up at her. “That’s a rather dangerous ask, don’t you think? Entering into a pact with a fae you’ve never met, and offering him anything in return.”
Her chin jutted up. “I always stay true to my word.”
Fearghal stood abruptly. “Then you’re a fool.”
