Page 25

Story: A Strange Hymn

Around us, other fairies have fallen back into their books. Either they’re no longer interested in our spectacle, or—more likely—Des is using his magic to cloak our words.

He leans forward, a lock of his white hair falling loose from the leather tie holding it back. “And if I did? What would you do?”

I’m weak in so many ways, but not in this one.

“I would leave you.” Even though it would ruin me, I would.

Shadows begin to coil and twist at the edges of the room. Someone doesn’t like my answer.

Des raps his knuckles against the table. “As you rightly should.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it’s not that.

He straightens, sliding off the table. “Come.” He holds out his hand.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” I say, staring at his palm.

He sighs. “No, Callie. I do not have a harem—I never have.”

My body relaxes, and I take his hand.

“Why not?” I ask as he leads me out.

He glances down at me, a brow raised.

“It’s an honest question.”

“And one that has many answers,” he responds smoothly as we leave.

“Answers you want to tell me,” I nudge.

He smiles a bit. “I do…” he admits, “but at some other time.”

We exit the library and cut across the palace grounds. Before we can so much as enter the castle proper, Des releases my hand and halts.

I stop a few paces in front from him, turning to glance over my shoulder.

The look he wears… Des is no longer being playful or doting. He looks so veryfae. Hungry for things he wishes to possess. I know that sly, calculating look. It’s the same one he gets when he has something in mind that I might not entirely like.

“What?” I ask.

“You’ve been reading about me and my kingdom.” That does not at all explain his expression.

His gaze cuts to my bracelet.

I take a step back, the skin of my wrist prickling. I knowthatlook. It’s the look he gets right before he has me repay a debt.

“Don’t.” I give him a warning look. I have no idea where his mind is, and that, more than anything, frightens me.

He strolls forward, his heavy boots thudding against the stone. “Funny that after all I’ve demanded of you, cherub, you still think you can sway me with your protests.” Des steps in close. “You still owe me many, many favors.”

Hundreds of them, I know.

“Forcing me to do things against my will won’t make me like you more,” I say.

He leans in close. “I’ve tricked, hurt, and killed men in front of you. I’m confident a few debtsthat you owe mewon’t damage my chances.”

I narrow my eyes at him. What am I supposed to say? I do owe him favors, favors I bought fair and square. And Iamthe sucker who loves Des even at his worst.