Page 27 of Beyond the Mountain (Fae's Captive 4)

“I think I can arrange that.” His gaze turns heated, but he glances at the new changeling. “Have her meet me in the sitting room near the castle entry in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll see what I can do. She’s a real wild one. Never know what she might do next, so pinning her down won’t be easy.”

He leans toward me, his lips close to my ear. “Tell her pinning her down will be plenty easy for me.”

Sexy fae. I step back as he turns to the changeling boy and offers him a goblet of water and more food.

I hum as I make my way out of the merry hall and wander down the main corridor with another glass of wine in hand. I stop and admire the snowy view a few times, the mountains fading away in the distance as the sun sets on the winter realm.

My pesky thoughts keep returning to Gareth. Where is he? I’ve passed plenty of revelers, but he wasn’t among them. Not that I was looking intently for him or anything. Is he with some pretty fae celebrating the king’s mating ceremony? I push away the sting I feel and remind myself he doesn’t like me. He never has.

“For the longest time, I thought maybe he did like me, but he was just, you know, pushing down his feelings because ‘me winter fae, me big strong male, me have no emotion’ blah blah blah. That kind of thing.” I frown at my wine and finish it off. “But nope, he made it clear once we arrived here that he wants nothing to do with me. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. He avoided me the entire way back from the Gray Mountains, and he hasn’t made any effort to see me now that we’re somewhere safe.” I swallow hard. Saying it out loud hurts more than I thought, even if I’m only telling it to an empty glass.

Maybe Phinelas is just what I need to shake it off, to forget about broody Gareth. I stumble through a room with beast heads mounted on the high walls. Coming face to face with an ice bear in mid-snarl isn’t enough to kill my buzz, so I pet its head and continue toward what I think is the front of the castle.

Has it been fifteen minutes? He said fifteen minutes, right? I set my glass down on some sort of important-looking paperwork on a desk in the next room. No guards in sight—everyone is at the party—I continue on my trek for male attention. But each step is a bit more halting, because the truth is … I don’t want Phinelas’s attention. Not really.

“Gareth isn’t going to give you what you want.” I lean on the wall inside a room full of ceremonial armor and peer at my warped reflection in a breast plate. “He just isn’t. Better to stop thinking about him.”

Onward I go, my resolve fading, my head spinning. I should go back. Phinelas will be disappointed just like I am, but he’ll live. There are plenty of pretty things at the party. He can take his pick. I glance at my arms, the puncture wounds visible even in the low evening light. I’m not a pretty thing. Maybe I could have been, but Granthos scarred me too badly, too often. Maybe that’s why Gareth isn’t interested. I’m too damaged for him.

My feet continue onward while my mi

nd grapples with warring desires. Foolish. I’ve always been foolish. I rub my temples and enter a dark hallway.

This is a mistake. I just need to go back to my room, wank, and sleep.

A figure emerges ahead of me, the dark clothes and notched blade giving Phinellas away. His Catcher costume is spot-on, creepily so.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” I curse Gareth inwardly for being an invisible cockblock.

Phinellas cants his head to the side and continues approaching.

“I mean, I can. There’s nothing wrong with my goods.” I wave a hand across the front of my body. “But I can’t.” I lean against the wall. “I’m stuck on an ass who isn’t stuck on me. And I’m dumb to keep wanting him, you know? But I can’t help it.” I cover my face with my hands.

He stops in front of me. Maybe he can give me some words of encouragement or something, sort of like a pep-talk fueled by unrequited lust.

“I’m pathetic.” I sigh into my palms. “I know I promised you some fun, but I can’t have fun when I’m all miserable and like, spurned by an asshole fae male person, you know? Have you ever wanted someone you can’t have? I kept thinking he wanted me and he was just pretending to be a total jerk, but turns out I was overconfident—which I’m not really confident, I just sort of fake it, because I can’t admit to myself that I’m scared no one will want me because I’m damaged.” Why are my eyes watering? “Yeesh. That was sort of a deep thought revelation there, right? I’m ‘in my feels’ as Taylor says. It’s the wine. And I did just witness an epic mating. I think I just need to go to bed. Alone. But thanks for listening.” I clear my throat and try to work up the courage to meet his gaze. “You’re a really good listener, you know?”

Metal snaps around my wrists.

“Whoa. What kind of kinky fuckery are you into, Phinel—” I look up at Phinellas but find only cruel silver eyes in a half-hidden face. My breath stops, fear cutting through my drunken stupor.

“Granthos has been looking for you, little runaway.” The Catcher stuffs a gag into my mouth as I open it to yell for help, my bottom lip splitting from his rough treatment.

Hefting me over his shoulder with feline ease, he strides down the hallway and disappears into the freezing black night, my muffled screams ignored by the snow, the rocks, and the Catcher.

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