These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(74)

“—know how my magic works and why, because I’m a mortal who was turned immortal and holds the power of the Unseelie crown that Oberon never should’ve been able to pass to me to begin with.”

He shrugs, but his expression is apologetic. He glances out at the dark night outside the window and pulls the curtains closed. “We should get some sleep.”

I settle back against the headboard and cringe at the sight of the lock of hair and the knife on my bedside table. I’m so spooked, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep.

“What’s that?” Finn asks, following my gaze.

I shake my head, still staring at it. “I don’t really know, but I think it’s Juliana’s hair.”

Finn barks out a laugh. “You cut off Juliana’s hair?”

“I thought it was a dream.”

His chest shakes in silent laughter. “You thought you were dreaming, so you let yourself slice off her hair, but it just so happened that your shadow self was doing the same thing in the waking world.”

I shrug again. That about sums it up, but it doesn’t make it any less creepy.

“Remind me to stay on your good side, Princess.”

I cut him a look. “I’m not sure you’ve even met my good side.”

His gaze slides over my face to my neck and the low-cut top of the sleeping gown, then down to the blankets that cover my legs. His gaze smolders so hot I might as well be naked. “I have met your good side,” he says. “She came out to play that night in the shower. She was a lot of fun.” I throw another pillow at him, and he snatches this one out of the air, grinning. “Thanks. Looks like I have all your pillows now. Does this mean you’ll be joining me on the floor?” He grabs the other off the ground before lifting them both in the air. “Or would you prefer I join you on the bed?”

“What happened to staying on my good side?”

Chuckling, he tosses a pillow back to me before climbing back onto his pallet of blankets on the floor. We’re both quiet for a long time.

I close my eyes and listen to his breathing, but I know he’s not sleeping, and neither am I. With visions of those gutted orcs flashing through my mind, I’m not sure I will.

“You’re shaking,” Finn says. “I can feel it from here.”

“I hate feeling like there’s this part of me that maybe I don’t control.” I bite my lip. “I’m scared.”

He’s quiet so long that I think he might’ve fallen asleep, but then I hear him stir, and in the next moment, my sheets rustle as he pulls them back. The bed shifts under his weight. “I’m here,” he whispers, and his hand finds mine under the blankets. “Right here. I promise I’ll wake you before your shadow self can seduce me.” His words are laced with mischief, and I can’t help but smile.

I pinch the back of his hand. “How do you know she wasn’t just after a lock of your hair?”

Chuckling, he rolls to his side to face me. His lips press against my shoulder, warm and sweet.

“Next time you straddle me,” he murmurs, “wake up first. I want all of you, not just some dark and twisted secret corner of your mind.”

A shiver runs through me, but I’m not shaking anymore. At least not from fear.



Light hits me like a physical blow, and I roll over in bed, burying my face in the pillow. “Close the curtains,” I groan.

My demand is met with a feminine chuckle. “It’s time to wake up, sleepyhead,” Pretha says. “If you don’t get dressed now, they’ll have to leave without you.”

“Let them leave,” I mumble. “I need sleep.”

The blankets are ripped off me, and I whimper. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you. Not even a little. But today is important. Get up.”

I sit up, but only because I smell coffee, then freeze as memories from last night slam into me.

Closing my eyes for a beat, I let myself remember how it felt to straddle Finn, to wake him, his hungry growl when he realized it was me . . . even though it wasn’t. Not really. The memory brings nothing more than embarrassment and more questions about this world and my powers.

But then I recall the way he fell asleep holding my hand. How nice it was to have him close. And his words before he fell asleep? I want all of you.

I make a beeline for the coffeepot steaming on the corner table. I’m going to need it if I want to process any of what happened last night. After Finn fell asleep beside me, the night seemed to stretch on forever as my thoughts ran in circles. By the time I drifted off, the sun was beginning to rise. “Tell me again what we’re doing today?” I ask, pouring myself a cup.

Pretha studies the contents of the wardrobe thoughtfully. “Today and tonight, we celebrate Lunastal,” she says, smiling over her shoulder at me.

“Tell me what that entails.” Finn’s explanation left a lot to be desired.

“It’s a celebration of the beginning of the harvest. In these parts of the territory, it’s considered bad luck not to celebrate, and it’s believed that the god Lugh will cast a blight on the crops of those who fail to pay him homage.”

I swallow my first sip of coffee and give myself a moment to let it warm my chest. “Is this celebrated all over Faerie?”