Chapter 36

The days after my attempted escape blurred together. For two days I was only vaguely aware of where I was and who I was with. Sometimes I would wake only to feel myself curled against Ronan, his tireless body holding me to him. Other times I was alone atop Nea, the horse silently pulling me forward as Ronan walked beside him.

I turned my head to look at him as we walked. Gone was the fierce monster I had seen before after our run-in with the phooka, only to be replaced with a silent contemplation. He glanced at me, noticing my eyes on him. His gaze remained empty.

"Rest," he commanded. I turned my head from him, refusing to reply. But in a few moments, I felt my body give in as sleep returned to me.

The next time I woke, I felt better. Ronan helped me down off Nea, and I walked beside him. The remains of that night still covered me. Blood stained my clothes, and dirt was still caked under my nails. I didn't talk to or look at Ronan. I didn't bother trying to convince him to let me go. I had tried asking him, I had tried running. None of it had worked.

I didn't have anything else except for my silence. If he refused to let me go, I would not give him the satisfaction of my company. I was his prisoner, not his wife.

Ronan was the one to break the silence. "What you did back there, I have never seen before."

I didn't reply. I moved forward, my muscles still aching. Most of my cuts and bruises had healed, an acceleration I imagined came from my faerie blood. But the memory of the fierceness of my Craft remained.

I felt the air gust towards me as if it sensed my thoughts. It was gentle as if apologizing for its damage. I clenched my hand into a fist.

This world. Everything about it was trying to destroy me.

Several moments passed and I didn't reply to him. I didn't turn to see his face, but I didn't have to know what I would see there.

Ronan stopped.

"Heather," he said gently. It grated against my nerves, that soft caring edge to his voice. It was a lie. Everything about him was a lie. "Look at me."

I continued walking.

He grabbed my arm, spinning me around. I tried to tear it from his grasp, but failed. I stared fixedly into the trees over his shoulder. Thick shafts of moonlight glowed down upon us, the clouds from before having long ago vanished.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ronan's lips press into a thin line. I felt his grip on me loosen, but he stepped closer.

I refused to take a step back.

"It displeases me when you don't talk to me."

I laughed, low and humorless, and I shifted my gaze so I was glaring up at him. I saw his eyes flicker red.

"Tough shit. That's what happens when you imprison someone and refuse to listen to their pleas."

Ronan's jaw ticked. "You're my wife." He stepped closer to me. "We've been wed, sending you back will have... consequences," he said slowly.

"Yes, I'm your wife. After I was taken from my life and forced into this one. Had I not been trying to survive, I would never have married you." I clenched my hands so hard I nearly drew blood.

"You're a monster," I whispered.

Something in Ronan's expression wavered, and he jerked his head like I had slapped him.

"I saved your life. If left you on your own in the Hunt, there is no telling what the others would do with you. You owe me for that."

"Saved my life?" I replied, my voice raising in disbelief. "How do you know I would've failed." I held out my hands for emphasis, a wind gusting past us, whipping my hair around my face as it answered my call.

Ronan was unimpressed, his eyebrows raised, a few strands of hair across his forehead. "You have no idea how to use those powers. You would've failed."

I glared at him. I wore the evidence of such failure in the collection of new scars across my skin. I tried to turn away from him, but he held tight. "You know I don't want to be here but you continue to refuse to let me go. I don't know why I should trust you."

One side of Ronan's lips curled, and he let out a short laugh. "You shouldn't," he agreed, moving forward. He ran a clawed finger down my cheek, the careful movement at odds with his fierce expression. Then his voice lowered. "But we both know back then you wanted to kiss me. Tell me, would life be so terrible if you just gave in?"

A small, traitorous part of me almost stepped closer, into his touch. Familiar heat seeped into me from the brief contact, but I turned away from him quickly. My teeth bit into my lip as if I could somehow remove the way I had imagined his lips would feel against mine.

"Yes," I said forcefully. "I will always be a prisoner with you."

Ronan gazed at me for a long moment, then dropped his hands, letting me go. His heat still lingered along my skin.

"What if I convinced you it was something you wanted?" he asked, his voice taking on an unfamiliar tone. "What if you didn't have to be a prisoner, but my equal."

I shifted, finally pulling away from him. Turning I started walking away from him.

"You can't," I said, trying to hide the way my voice wavered. An image flickered in my mind. Me beside Ronan, twin crowns of briar and thorn on our brows, both of us powerful...

Deadly.

Ronan's gaze bored into my back for several moments before he followed.