The Unseelie leader, the one who took my biscuits.
I wait for him to peel away my fingers and let me fall to nothing, to be the monster everyone says he is.
Instead, he offers me a second hand. I cling to him like a lifeline while he lifts me as if I weigh nothing, right over the missing planks to where he stands. I collapse against his damp chest, gasping for breath, willing my thundering pulse to slow.
My palms and fingers ache and burn, but I don’t even care becauseI’m alive.
I screw my eyes closed to stem my tears, but still they find their way through my lashes.
If he hadn’t been nearby?—
Brilliant. Now I’m sobbing.
Peering through watery lashes, I find myself face-to-face with a very bare gray-green chest.
I jump away to give him space and would’ve fallen back into that damn canyon if he didn’t catch me again. This time, he spins me around and places me so that he’s the one with his back to the hole.
What a bloomin’ disaster. “Th-thank you for saving me.”
The man’s expression is as stony as ever, his eyes so solemn beneath the thick curtain of his lashes. “You should not be here.” His deep voice rumbles with the slightest hint of a lilting accent.
Wait. He just spoke to me. He speaks our language!
I knew his voice would be deep and rough. I bloody well knew it?—
Hold on. If he can speak our language, does that mean he understood everything I said Wednesday and chose not to respond?
How rude—not that I say that aloud considering he saved me from certain death.
Twice.
He blows out what sounds like a frustrated breath and props his hands on his hips. Suddenly, I’m very aware of every single hard line of his bare torso. His flat nipples, darker than the rest of him. His belly button amidst the ridges of his abdomen.
Stop staring at him, you loon!
You should not be here…
I force my gaze to meet his. “Is it illegal?”
His brow furrows as he shakes his head. “There is no law, but there are rules. And it is not safe for someone like you on this side of the canyon.”
Irritation flares in my chest, heating me all the way through. “Someone like me? And what, pray, do you mean by that?”
“Someone so…soft.”
“I am notsoft.” I mean, compared to him maybe, but I’m stronger than I look.
He arches a dark brow.
I liked him better when he didn’t speak. “If it’s so unsafe, then what are you doing out here?”
“Hunting.”
“Without a shirt?” That doesn’t seem very safe or smart. “Don’t you get cold?”
He glances down at himself, as if he’s forgotten that his chest is bare. When he looks back at me, his eyes have narrowed. “No.”
“Not even in the winter?” I’d die without the heavy coat of furs that used to belong to my mother.