Page 52 of Fey Dominion

“Yes,” I manage to force out of my tight throat.

Amanda is cutting off the circulation to my hand. The man’s pencil pauses. He looks up at me over the rim of his glasses.

“I’m sorry for what you have been through. We will arrange counselling for you.”

I bite back my laugh. There were many, many times in the palace that I thought about my future need for therapy. And here I am now with an official-type person agreeing with me.

“As for the physical effects, we are pretty certain fey cannot transmit or carry human diseases.”

“Thanks, that’s good to know,” I say, and I don’t think I sound too deranged.

He nods sharply and turns his attention back to his notes. I take a deep, shuddery breath and try to brace myself.

“Did you gain a comprehension of the layout of the palace? Have the fey altered it?”

My heart thuds. A strange shivery sensation washes over me. I thought he was going to ask for more details about the things I got up to with Mabon.

The pencil pauses. “We don’t need to know any details about your assault. That can be saved for your therapist.”

I open and close my mouth several times.

“It’s quite usual to feel conflicted about the word, ‘assault’. Confusion is a normal response.”

I stare at him.

“Shall we move on to our next topic of conversation?”

I nod helplessly.

I’m relieved. Hugely. I did not want to talk about intimate things. But my heart still feels heavy. I swear my soul is aching. It seems answering questions about the layout of the palace is still going to feel like betrayal.

It’s a horrible feeling. I hate it. I haven’t betrayed anyone. I’m not a traitor. Mabon is going to be fine. I’ve done the right thing.

So why doesn’t it feel like it?

Damn it. I really do need that therapist.

Chapter twenty-two

Ifeel like shit. I don’t think I slept a wink last night. Underground bunkers are noisy. Clangs, bangs, pipes and fans. Buzzing lights. It was a cacophony. Add in the uncomfy bed and the scratchy blanket, and it was a horrible night.

The disgusting dinner I ate in the mess hall with Amanda, didn’t seem to digest at all. It sat low and heavy in my gut. For hours.

Worrying about Mabon didn’t help. My stupid mind wouldn’t shut up about it even though I know he is fine. He is a royal hostage. A bargaining chip. Valuable beyond measure. And last time I saw him, he was treating it like a grand adventure.

There was no need at all for my stupid mind to replay how well Mabon hides things. I didn’t need to think about how, if I hadn’t felt my leash trembling, I never in a thousand years would have known he was scared of Duke Carian.

My fists clench. I’m being absurd. Mabon isn’t scared now, and even if he is, he doesn’t need to be. He is safe here. That was a big reason why I decided to do this. To protect him.

I’m not an evil traitor. I haven’t betrayed him.

Not that you can betray your captor and enemy. I’m getting confused again. Mabon is gorgeous and hot in bed, and sometimes sweet. But he is still a conquering invader.

Pretty doesn’t equal good. I know this. Just as I know damn well that Mabon isn’t as daft as he appears. He is not all flighty and superficial. In fact, I’m convinced his crazy, spoilt, pleasure-loving prince act, is just that. Mostly an act. Underneath, he is smart and cunning. Deadly and ruthless.

He doesn’t need me.

Everything is fine.