“I need you,” he says.
Every girl’s wet dream.
I know better. There are invisible glyphs painted into the skin of my forearms, counting out the days. I owe him a year and a day of service, and now he’s calling in his favor, and it has nothing to do with me seeing any more of that glorious skin and everything to do with me being crushed between two opposing forces.
“I am at your disposal, it seems,” I manage to drawl as he draws me to my feet.
Keir cuts me a hard look, then sweeps past me, the hem of his robe brushing against my calf. “Follow me.”
Just a small touch, but it feels as though he’s lashed me.
I don’t know if it’s the bond between us or something else, but the sense of awareness between us seems to be growing.
“Please,” I mutter, curling my fingers into my palms as if I can somehow trap the sensation of his hands on mine.
“What?” he calls over his shoulder as he vanishes between the gauzy curtains.
It’s a simple courtesy, one I lost many years ago when my father trapped my soul in the small vial he wears around his neck. Since that moment, I’ve lost the right to demand courtesy, and Keir condemned me to a similar fate several months ago when he demanded a year and a day of service from me.
A sigh escapes me. I have no choice.
I’ve never had a choice.
And so I follow.
2
The balcony overlooks an azure sea.
The Court of Dreams is anchored to the real world, but it exists in a plane outside of time. The only way to reach it is through a portal Keir controls—or through your dreams. Indeed, he commands every aspect of the entire island, because he created it with his power.
It was the first sign he wasn’t quite as fae as he seemed.
Platters of food rest on a table in front of me. Dates and stuffed figs, along with the finest cheeses, and biscuits cut so thin they’d melt in your mouth…. My mouth waters, even as my mood plunges. Keir can’t know how long it’s been since I was fed, but this feels like a new sense of torture.
If my father ever discovered it’s the key to breaking me, then he’d have more than my soul. I would give him everything.
“See something you like?” Keir’s voice is rough velvet as he gestures and one of the chairs sweeps back on an invisible gust.
My stomach twists. It wants food so desperately that I have to dig my fingernails into my palms to control the urge to stuff my face. “Are you referring to the cheeses, my prince?” I glance at him from beneath my lashes. “Or a certain dragon?”
He smiles a little dangerously. “You don’t need to pretend to flirt with me anymore, Merisel.”
That’s not my name.
And he knows it bothers me. This is only a means to force me to tell him the truth.
“Fine,” I tell him. “The food looks delicious.”
I pluck a grape from a platter and stuff it in my mouth before he can even reply. Sweetness bursts across my tongue. I swear I almost have an orgasm. I need more.
“Is this even real?” It feels real beneath my fingers, the date sticky as I squeeze it. “This dream?”
“What makes you think it a dream?”
I laugh. Because my life is a nightmare, and this is a mirage. “You’re the Prince of Dreams. This is not the first time I’ve woken to find myself walking these halls.”
He pauses. “You never came. I’ve summoned you a half dozen times.”
Maybe they were fever dreams.
Keir leans back in his chair, one arm slung over the chair beside him as he watches me. “And it can be.”
“Be what?”
“Real.”
I pop the date into my mouth, and flavor bursts over my tongue. Gods, I barely chew it before I swallow it down. Maybe it’s not enough to fill my stomach, but I don’t care. With a flash of the knife, I slice a thin, crumbly wedge of cheese. “So you seduce you me with such pleasures first,” I murmur, “and then, I presume, comes the torture.”
His gaze drops to my fingers as I lift the cheese to my lips. “This is not seduction, Merisel. You will know if I ever decide to seduce you.”
“Then what is this?” The cheese melts on my tongue. I’m a little too quick to reach for another piece.
“Why would you think I intend to torture you?” There’s curiosity in his tone.
I pause, swallowing my mouthful and then licking the remnants from my thumb. That was a slip. He’s questioning it. “Why would you not? You own me.”
“Ah, yes.” There’s a quirk around his mouth. “Our bargain. I was a little angry with you when I made it. I thought I’d found a bride and here you were, using false pretenses to try and steal from me.”
This time, it’s my turn to arch a brow. “I never tried to capture your interest. If anything, quite the opposite.”
I can’t help hearing the words he spoke to me when he realized my deception: “I've never been more intrigued by you.”
I set the fork down. “What do you want? It isn’t to watch me eat. It isn’t to remind me of the past.”
“You dined with me once. Perhaps I wished to repeat the experience.”
“Now I see how you dance around the truth.”
Keir laces his fingers together. A dangerous intensity springs to life in his eyes. “Rumor abounds that an ancient magic is reawakening. The world trembles with its presence, and every power-hungry lordling and prince in all the lands will be desperate to find it. I want to get my hands on it first.”
I pause, nibbling on the stuffed fig. This feels familiar and it’s a relief to finally get to the crux of the matter. “An ancient magic…?”
“The cauldron,” he replies. “The Goddess’s Cauldron.”
I drop the fig, and my fork ricochets off my plate. He cannot be
