Page 57 of A Court of Hearts and Hunger
Through my eyelids I can see a golden glow, probably from the lighted orbs overhead. Their incandescence is as comforting as firelight.
Slowly my eyes open.
There is a pair of black boots not far from my face, beyond the curve of a velvety pillow.
Blinking, I follow those boots up to a pair of white pants, then farther up to a broad, muscular brown chest. Two arms are folded across that chest, and above it—
The Rabbit stands unmasked, his full lips pinned tight as he looks down upon Caer and me.
Seeing the Rabbit again after my days of isolation hurts like a splinter from a fencepost—a splinter buried in my heart instead of my finger. But seeing him feels good, too, like scooping the cream off a bucket of milk. Satisfying.
I’m angry with him for abandoning me, and I’m grateful to him for not mutilating me yet, and I just—I want him to speak to me.
I push Caer’s arm off my torso as I sit up. He mumbles and rolls over onto his back, looking flushed and impossibly cute. I don’t remember him taking my collar off and putting it on himself, but apparently he did, because it’s there now. The sight of it around his neck makes me feel oddly possessive and a little aroused.
I can’t resist brushing a lock of hair back from his forehead. The Rabbit scoffs angrily.
“We didn’t fuck,” I say.
The Rabbit glances pointedly at the mess of dice, cards, spilled wine, and smashed glasses on the table and the floor. There are books spread open on the floor, too, because Caer’s drinking game involved me searching for specific words and sounding them out. It was fun, and surprisingly helpful, until my brain grew soft and muddled from the wine.
“What are you wearing?” the Rabbit asks.
I glance down at my scanty outfit. “Something Caer found.”
The Rabbit kicks Caer’s leg with his boot. “Wake up, fool.”
Caer turns over, snuggling into the pile of pillows with a light rumble of satisfaction—almost a purr.
“Up, you useless clod,” snaps the Rabbit. “What were you thinking?”
Caer sits up then, blinking. “Why are you shouting? Gods.”
“Younestedwith her.”
“Oh, that.” The Cat gives him a lazy grin. “I was drunk. And she’s so damn cuddly.” He runs his fingers up my arm and kisses my cheek.
“She’s not your mate or your pet, idiot. She is our prisoner. A power source, nothing more. Take that collar off your neck and put it back on her.”
“Why?” Caer rises, swaying a little before he stands firm. “As you said, she’s not a pet.”
“I said she’s notyourpet. She’s fucking mine.”
The two Fae seethe at each other. The Rabbit is taller, but Caer is all fiery determination and reckless rebellion.
“Don’t do it yet,” he says tightly. “Don’t take her apart. Not until we have no choice.”
“Should I wait until the Queen splits open my chest cavity? I am the only one who might be able to stop her, Caer, and I am running on borrowed time. She’ll tire of me soon. Should I let her kill me? And how long do you think your skill with games will protect you? What if she cracks your ribs and chews your heart to pieces? What if she turns you into one ofthem?” The Rabbit takes a step forward, gripping Caer by the back of the neck. “I couldn’t bear it.”
Caer’s shoulders sag. And to my horror, he nods, relenting. He unbuckles the collar from his throat and kneels beside me, refastening it around my neck. His fingers linger on my skin.
“I’m sorry, mousie,” he whispers, before rising and backing away from our nest.
The Rabbit looks down at me. “Come, kitten. It’s time.”
16
Note: This chapter includes a memory of rape and cannibalism. If you’d prefer not to read it, you can skip to the scene break.
