These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows, #1)(32)

“You expect me to believe that? You stand there in fine clothes, drinking fancy wine in a tavern in the Seelie Court. Poor, exiled prince. It seems like you’re fighting really hard to get Mordeus off the throne.”

The wineglass shatters to dust in his hand, and my body locks up in fear at the evidence of how dangerous he is. Calmly, he brushes his hands together, letting the drops of wine and glass dust fall away. “Take my help, mortal.”

“I don’t need you.”

His gaze flicks over me, and I flinch when I see darkness leaking off my hands like ink into a pool of water. “Have you shared the bond with anyone?” he asks.

As if I’d submit myself to faerie bonding. As if I’d give anyone that kind of control over my free will and my life. Never.

“Maybe someone back home,” he says. “A friend or lover, anyone?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to spit that humans don’t perform such absurd rituals. I don’t even know how or if it would work between humans, but I bite back the denial. I know just enough about faerie bonds to know that there’s some level of protection involved. If Finn believes that someone might be bonded to me, maybe he won’t try to keep me here.

He stares at me for a long beat. “It’s a simple question.”

I shrug. “And I simply choose not to answer.”

He mutters something under his breath. I can see the anger in his eyes, his efforts to keep his temper under control. “You need to understand that bonds have consequences and aren’t as easily undone as you might think.”

Is this self-righteous ass seriously going to lecture me about this? I fold my arms. “If I leave, will your friends come after me?”

“Are you planning to return to the queen’s son?”

The words are a balled fist to the gut. Queen Arya’s son. Prince Ronan.

Sebastian.

I have to close my eyes against the pain of it. The betrayal. I can’t let myself think about him right now.

When I open them, I stare at the inky blackness around my hands. This reminder is just what I need. I have power. I am not trapped here.

Finn steps close, studying me as if I’m a rather interesting insect, his lips curved in a smirk.

I step toward the shadows between the wall sconces, desperate to disappear into them as the office door opens.

“Word came from the castle,” Pretha says, letting the door swing shut behind her. “Prince Ronan has delayed his selection until tomorrow. We need to put a plan in place quickly and get her back there.”

Finn folds his arms. “I’m not sure the girl wants to work with us.” There’s a challenge in his voice. As if I’m a child and he’s working me through reverse psychology.

I press my back against the wall and will myself to push through it, to escape. Nothing happens. How did I use my power before?

Pretha crosses the room, heading toward me. “You can’t do this alone,” she tells me.

I shake my head. “You’re wrong.” I’ve been working alone my whole life. Nothing needs to change now. Like the inverse of a flickering lamp, I fade to shadow and back to my corporeal self.

Panicked, Pretha spins on Finn. “What’s she doing?”

Shadow. Turn to shadow. My hand disappears and appears, but the wall behind me holds firm.

“Finn!” Pretha’s eyes are wide. “She’s going to escape.”

Shadow. This time when my hand disappears, the rest of my arm goes too. I melt into the wall and stumble through it. My dress tangles in a rosebush on the outside of the tavern, proving once again that pants are the wiser clothing choice. I scramble upright, and the thorns rip my skirt and tear at my legs.

I can hear Finn and Pretha argue through the cracked window, but their angry words are muffled until Finn barks a final, clear command. “Let her go.”

I hoist my dress up and run, but I don’t know where I am and the fog is too thick to see the castle in the distance.

I know the forest was ahead of me when I fled Sebastian, but now it’s to my left. I turn, putting my back to the woods, but nothing in that direction looks familiar.

The forest. I can hide there—I can turn myself to shadow and nothingness and hide until I can find my way back to the castle. Because I have to go back to the castle.

If Sebastian’s delayed his selection, perhaps I can still make this work. There’s still a chance to save Jas.

The forest is darker than any in Fairscape—the canopy of leaves dense and the lights of the homes beyond dimmer than those from my overpopulated part of the world. A horrible cry tears through the night, followed by a triumphant howl. I’ve never been scared of the dark, but I know enough to be scared of this dark. I don’t know half of what lives in these trees. Maybe my shadows can hide me, but can they protect me?

The summer heat has gone with the sun, and I wrap my arms around myself as I scan the forest, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Another howl, this one closer, and terror trembles through my muscles. You know that the powers you have in my realm aren’t so new. You’ve been using them for years.

Normal humans can’t see in the dark like this. I knew that, didn’t I? I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, didn’t want to admit that there was some piece of faerie inside me.

But knowing you have a tool is a far cry from knowing how to use it. I have no idea where I am. No idea which way to the castle. And no idea how to use my power to protect myself from whatever lives in these woods.