It was much later in the evening, the sun giving way to the moon when Ronan finally returned. He banged the door open abruptly, and looked around the room as if confused. Ronan's eyes passed over the flickering candles on the bedside table, the only light in the room, the glow catching on his red irises. Then his eyes settled on me, his expression blanking over.
It was like seeing me had somehow reminded him of something he would much rather forget.
He lifted a hand to scratch his head, then walked into the room. The small space seemed to grow smaller as he filled it.
"I see you have decided not to abandon me. A pity really," I said before I could stop the snide remark. Not that he would respond to me, anyway.
Ronan's lips turned down, and he fixed me with a glare as if he wished he could somehow turn my volume off. He moved near the bed I was perched upon. I pulled my legs up to myself protectively, watching him with narrowed eyes.
I shifted, unease prickling under my skin while I started to reconsider Ronan's intentions with me. Maybe my suspicions were wrong, and Cath didn't know him as well as she thought she did. Perhaps this whole time, he had wanted a mortal wife, and now he was here to "claim" me beyond just an exchange of blood. I pushed myself further away, my eyes never leaving him.
He reached the bed and sat down on it, far too close to me. I could smell the faint yet unmistakable smell of ale on him, easily recognizable after my years working in a bar. It seemed that our worlds weren't entirely different, after all.
Faster than I knew myself capable, I was past him and on my feet, barely hiding a wince as I backed away, my feet still tender from their wounds. I held up my hands.
"That's cool. You can have the bed then. I'll just..." I looked around for somewhere else to sleep. I saw the beat up looking lounge chair where I had eaten throughout the day. There was one small blanket over its arm.
"I'll sleep on the chair."
Ronan remained silent—not that I was surprised—and lifted one dark eyebrow. He, unlike me, had not bathed recently and looked like he could use one. There were dried streaks of blood still on his arms and under his sleeveless tunic—a new one, I noted since he had lost his previous one the night before during the Hunt.
Ronan stood, stripping off his clothes, and I all but stumbled back in alarm. I shook my head slowly, backing away. I didn't care if he was my husband according to some faerie custom. I didn't want him, and I didn't consent. I just wanted to go home.
I just wanted to be far, far, away from here.
He made to remove his belt, looking up just then to see how I had backed away from him, my face draining of color. Ronan tilted his head and looked around the room. For a moment, I thought he was going to speak, but then he just shook his head, pressing his lips together. His expression soured, and he stomped towards me and grabbed me before I could find the doorknob to scramble from the room. I clawed at him, but it had no effect.
"No," I cried out. "Let me go, please."
He dragged me to the bed and threw me on it. I felt tears welling in my eyes, and I gathered myself into a little ball, holding myself protectively, knowing it was futile because there was no doubt he could overpower me to get what he wanted. I was completely powerless.
I didn't know how to protect myself from him.
"Please," I pleaded, holding myself tightly. "I said no."
I felt the bed dip. I held my breath, ready to lash out at him if he touched me. However, a moment passed, then another. I felt him shift, but not to be closer to me.
Slowly, I blinked open my eyes. I looked over to see him on the bed, laying a good foot or two away from me. His back was turned, and his face rested on his hand. I was behind him, next to the wall, his body facing towards the door. He made no move to come near me.
He lifted his arm and balled his hand into a fist. The flickering candle in the room extinguished, shrouding us in darkness.
Slowly my eyes adjusted, and I stared at Ronan, keeping myself protectively in a ball. Soon my panicked breaths evened out. Ronan did not turn toward me. He remained as still as the shadows around us.
I'm not sure how much time passed like that, me staring at him with my body tensed, waiting any minute for him to attack me, but eventually I realized the attack was never going to come. I studied Ronan's solitary form, and noticed how he was positioned. I was behind him, his body between me and the door. The window was far enough away, that if anyone came in, they would have to go through him to get to me.
A thought then took root inside my mind, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.
Maybe...Ronan was trying to keep me safe. Perhaps when he had taken his clothes off, he hadn't realized how I would react. It was possible that to a faerie removing their clothes might not carry the same implications it did to me.
Eventually, I lengthened my legs and let out a deep sigh. Moonlight poured in through the window, lighting the scarred ridges along Ronan's back. Some were deep and puckered, and others were thin white lines that created a pattern of war across his skin.
I felt my body slowly settle into the bed. It wasn't very soft, but I was too exhausted to care. My feet still hurt, and I had no idea what tomorrow would bring me. Faster than I would have expected while sharing a bed with my faerie husband for the first time, I fell fast asleep.
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Hunted by a Night Fae
خيال (فانتازيا)Heather once dreamed of spending a day in Faerie, surrounded by magic and music. But now she wants nothing more than to escape. When Heather is captured in the Wild Hunt, she makes a bargain with a powerful Night Fae, Ronan, in order to return home...
