These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(72)

Juliana sneers. “I’m insulted that you’re even asking me to consider it. You’ve lost your mind, Finn. Do you forget how our throne works?”

“I haven’t forgotten a thing, but since Oberon passed his crown to her, it seems we’ve been working under a new set of rules.”

“Maybe you have, but the old rules matter to the rest of us. Bloodlines and Mab’s will matter to us. You forget how terrible it was for us under Mordeus’s rule.”

“I never forget that,” he says, his voice solemn.

“You’re asking me to protect Prince Ronan’s bonded partner. To consider that she might be worthy of a power that was made for the greatest among us.”

“She is worthy . ”

Juliana’s eyes flare with anger, but she sets her jaw and stares into the distance. “I won’t argue with you about this. I have faith that Mab will have the answers we need.”

“As do I,” Finn whispers.

When she turns back to him, her face softens. “I’m sure I seem horrible to you, but I don’t mean to be. I want you on that throne where you belong, and despite any illness you might be suffering or any quirks in the magic from Oberon’s ill-fated choices, I believe that’s where you’ll end up.”

He reaches across the table and takes her hand. There’s such a tenderness between them that I slip back into the house, more confused than I was before and feeling guilty about spying on Finn.

Maybe I’ll tell him tomorrow. It would be better, wouldn’t it? To just be honest about the fact that I’m a terrible friend who eavesdrops on private conversations?

This one, like so many others, has left me with more questions than answers. Tethered. Where have I heard that term before? I’ll have to confess to Finn tomorrow; that way he can tell me what it all means.

When I crawl back into bed, my mind is spinning. There are so many more important things to ponder, yet alone in this room we’ll share tonight, my thoughts snag on the most insignificant parts of their conversation.

I underestimated your ability to resist the beautiful female in your chambers.

I won’t pretend it’s easy.

I think you’re fixated on her and trying to excuse your lustful thoughts.

Trust me, I have plenty of those.

The snippets play on repeat in my mind. They don’t matter. It’s not as if this attraction between me and Finn is a revelation. Or that it’s even meaningful. Yet part of me always assumed he was just teasing. Flirting to win my favor. Part of me really likes the idea of Finn struggling to resist me—the same part that likes to imagine him sleeping in this room with me tonight and struggling with those lustful thoughts he admitted to having.



I dream of being nothing more than shadow—a dark penumbra who doesn’t hide or cower. Who takes what she wants and laughs at anyone who gets hurt along the way.

I’m nothing more than a silhouette of myself as I creep quietly out of the bedroom I’m sharing with Finn and down the hall to another room. He smiled at her. He laughed and confided, let her sit in his lap at dinner. He probably thinks she’s so beautiful, with that feminine grace and her long dark hair.

She doesn’t deserve him.

Her door’s closed. How cute. I slip right through it and walk through the darkness to Juliana’s side of the bed. Her hair is fanned out around her on the pillow. She’s so peaceful, hands folded on her stomach, chest rising and falling in the easy rhythm of sleep.

With a smile, my shadow takes a handful of her hair and uses the knife I didn’t realize I was holding to slice it off. She’ll still be beautiful. She’ll still have that smile and those sparkling eyes.

She’ll still know exactly where she fits in this world, but I will have her hair for the next time I need to bribe a goblin.

I’m grinning as I return to my own room and drop the hair and the knife on the bedside table with a thunk. When I spot my body in the bed, the dream blinks in and out of existence. In my body again, I roll over and burrow a little deeper under my blankets. In the next moment, I’m disconnected again, watching myself from the foot of my bed, where I smile into the night and stretch my arms overhead.

It feels good to be free of my own skin. Feels good to be alive and know Finn is so close.

Because he’s the one I want. In the dark of this dream, with nothing but my shadow for my body, he’s all I want.

I slink through the darkness to his makeshift bed by the window. He’s beautiful, sleeping on his back, with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his bare chest. I study the planes of his face in the darkness. It feels so natural—so good and wicked and delightful— to straddle his waist and lower myself onto him.

He feels perfect under me. Warm. Solid. Strong. He likes it too. He releases a contented groan, not opening his eyes. Hot and solid and powerful even in his sleep.

I take the hand from his chest and place it on my stomach, watching with rapt attention as his eyes flutter open.

“Abriella?” He sounds confused, as if he doesn’t expect me to be here—as if there’s anywhere else I’d want to be. Pulling his hand from behind his head, he blinks up at me, then rubs his eyes.

“What is this?”

“I . . . want, ” I say, shifting, sliding down his body until my thighs are cradling his hips. I can feel him through the sheet, hard and thick against me.