Page 59 of First Snow
“You look nice in this dress up,” Arttu drawls despite the fear gathering in his stomach. “Are we going forDungeons and Dragons?”
A dark expression crosses over Jareth’s face, his nostrils flaring, before he sets his features back into an impassive mask. It’s enough to let Arttu get a glimpse at Jareth’s sharp canines. He certainly went all in with the costume.
“Did Paul help you with this?” Arttu taunts. “He can really work wonders.”
Jareth sets the tray down on the coffee table with enough force to make the china rattle. He takes a menacing step toward Arttu, his eyes flashing with anger.Oh, shit. Making the killer who abducted him angry probably wasn’t Arttu’s brightest move.
“Are you quite done?” Jareth hisses.
Arttu bites his bottom lip to stifle a furious retort.
“You have no idea what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into, you stupid, self-righteous, oblivioushuman! You owe me your life after I had to save you from the bone fairy. You stumbled into my castle, into mykingdom, and were so careless as to tell me your true name! Do you even realize what that means?”
Arttu shakes his head, fixing Jareth with a stubborn glare. But despite the ridiculousness of Jareth’s claims, a sliver of fear creeps up Arttu’s spine.
“Names have power,” Jareth continues as Arttu fails to come up with a reply. His mismatched eyes seem to be glowing, adding to his eerie appearance. A suave spirit of the night. “And you gave me yours.”
“But I didn’t mean to—” Arttu starts. He isn’t even sure what he’s trying to deny.
Jareth steps closer and captures Arttu’s throat in a possessive grip. Arttu makes a breathless little sound, half horrified and half aroused.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jareth snarls. “You’re mine now.”
The rushing sound of blood fills Arttu’s ears. “Never,” he growls, although it’s the most outrageous lie. “Do you think you can get away with this? My colleagues know where I am. It’s only a matter of time until your pretty mansion is swarming with police. You should think carefully about whether you wouldn’t be better off letting me go. Maybe then your fancy lawyers can do something for you.”
“Oh, Arttu,” Jareth chuckles as if Arttu said something silly but adorable. “I told you many times you should be more careful, but you wouldn’t listen. Even if you told someone where you are, which I highly doubt by the way, they could never find you here. And you aren’t allowed to leave.”
Oh, Arttu. You aren’t allowed to leave.The words evoke a feeling like being doused in ice water. Arttu remembers them, even if the rest of the dream is a far away memory. This can’t be.
“What do you mean they can’t find me here?” Arttu rasps.
He can’t let himself examine what it means that he dreamed of Jareth, of hisexact words, more than a year ago. OnJuhannus, after Sofia has performed her little ritual with the flowers. No. He’s just confused. He must be mixing things up.
Jareth’s grip on his throat tightens ever so slightly.
“The castle of my family stands in the Kingdom Beyond.We crossed a threshold between the worlds on our way back yesterday. You felt that, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
Hell, yes, he’d felt that.
“No,” Arttu retorts.
Jareth chuckles. He’s so close now that his breath is ghosting over Arttu’s lips. Despite everything, Arttu wants nothing more than to kiss him.
“Why am I so captivated by your defiance? It was one of the first things I noticed about you. But you’ll have to abide by my rules here.”
“Fuck your rules,” Arttu spits. “You can’t lock me in here forever.”
Something dangerous flashes over Jareth’s face, making Arttu almost regret his words.
“You still don’t understand,” Jareth growls. “You’remine. I could keep you here as long as I please. I could do whatever I want to you.” Jareth’s thumb caresses over Arttu’s bottom lip, coaxing Arttu’s mouth to fall open on a silent moan. “I could even enthrall you, so you would serve me gladly. You have no idea howeasyit would be, how susceptible you are to my magic.”
Arttu thinks he may have an inkling what Jareth is referring to, because the rational part of him, which is screaming that he’s in mortal danger, is muted by a strange calm and growing arousal. Arttu is hard by now. He can’t avert his gaze from Jareth’s lips.
“I—I’m not—yours,” Arttu slurs. He has no idea who he’s trying to fool, himself or Jareth.
Leaning in, Jareth finally,finally, connects their lips. “Liar,” he rumbles. “You’re so lucky I’m only half-Fae.”
Arttu leans into his touch, but Jareth pulls back, straightens up, and takes a step backwards. He brushes tenderly over Arttu’s face before withdrawing this contact from him as well. Arttu chases his caress with a disappointed sound.