“Fabric!” I gritted out. “I need fabric. For clothing.”

“Oh, of course! Yes!”  Hoshta hurried out from behind his counter. “What sort of fabric did you have in mind? I have some really lovely silk this season. The palest pink you could dream of. And-”

“Anything extremely scratchy and uncomfortable will do,” I grunted, my jaw working. Now that the naked human had paraded, uninvited, into my mind, I couldn’t get her out. Of course, the only reasonable solution was to punish the real human for it by clothing her in the most irritating fabric imaginable.

“I am afraid I do not have anything that would qualify as scratchy, my lord,” Hoshta fretted. “We take great pride in the quality and comfort of our fabrics.”

“Of course, you do,” I said stiffly, trying to maintain some outward composure. “I should not have implied otherwise.”

Since there was nothing scratchy, or even remotely ugly, in the shop, I settled on the most basic and plain items. Soft brown wool, grey silk, and a white fur cloak with a hood. I asked Hoshta if he had any boots meant for children, knowing adult ones would be too large, and he told me regretfully that he did not.

She doesn’t need boots. She has boots! The human boots that carried her foolish little feet into this world without your permission, remember?

I dumped my selected items on the counter, brooding as Hoshta tallied it all up. It was only when he told me the total that I realized I’d come here without any Sionnachan coin.

“Of course, if my lord prefers,” Hoshta said slowly, as if worried he might offend me, “he can put it on credit. Despite your long absence, we have kept your account open for you.” His voice softened slightly. “My mother insisted on it, just as her mother did, and her mother before her. We always hoped you’d return safely, Lord Wylfrael.”

“Thank you,” I replied. I was not simply thanking him for the credit, but for keeping a place open for me for so long. A wry smile touched my lips. “I hope I have not left anything unpaid on the account. If there is interest, it must be a mighty sum indeed.”

Hoshta’s ears flattened and he gasped, affronted. “Interest! On Lord Wylfrael’s account! Certainly not, my lord! Besides, your staff have kept things relatively up to date. Now, there is a small sum on the account, my lord. Very small indeed, for orders your Mistress of Affairs has made recently that she has not yet settled.”

“They will be settled quickly,” I said firmly, reminding myself to deal with that upon my return to the castle.

“Very good my lord, very good. Thank you.”

Hoshta placed the items into a large satchel for me. Just as I took it and turned, something out of the corner of my eye froze me to the spot. A flash of gold and white that had become so familiar I thought for a moment that her eyes had followed me here.

But it was lace. Shimmering, delicate golden lace sewn onto the finest snow-white silk.

My breath felt sharp and greedy in my lungs. My claws curled against the satchel I held, wanting simultaneously to stroke the lace and to tear it to pieces.

Leave it, Wylfrael, my mind said.

But my hand reached for it anyway, and my mouth said something else entirely as my fingers made contact with the lace.

“This one too, Hoshta. Put it on my account.”

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER NINETEEN Torrance

Asha Wylfrael didn’t come back that day. I hoped he’d gotten bored of me, but somewhat doubted it after the nearly perverse way he’d stroked the angry bruise on my wrist.

And then there was the way my body had responded – a betrayal even more perverse. I’d been unable to even try to pull away, to do anything but hold my breath and shiver under his touch, hot and cold and confused.

By the time evening rolled around, something I could track by the way light moved and stretched through the thick crystal walls in the windowless tower, I was convinced I was going out of my mind. Stockholm syndrome? A head injury I’m not aware of? That had to explain the riot of feverish sensation that had gripped me when the male, the monster who’d killed my friends, had held my arm.

At least he didn’t make it hurt more... When he’d first grabbed me, and I’d cried out and flinched, he’d immediately loosened his grip. And he’d seemed to tell me earlier that he wasn’t going to kill me. That has to be a good sign, right? At least where my safety is concerned. Or maybe it really was Stockholm syndrome, and I was looking for signs of kindness in gestures that were barely more than merciful. He’d admitted to killing other humans already, so really, what sort of kindness could there actually be?

At least he’s staying away for now.

The opening of the door in the evening made me jump and think I was wrong, but it was only the fox woman, coming to bring me food. She chattered gently, maybe even nervously, in their language as she brought in a tray. Outside in the hall, the male fox alien stood where he’d been all day, a new fixture that made me wonder if Asha Wylfrael had left the tower entirely.

If he’s gone, maybe I can get these two more on my side...

It was clear they were servants of some sort to Asha Wylfrael. They jumped to obey what appeared to be his every command. However, they also seemed kind. When the female one spoke to me, it was more like a nurse talking to a patient, or someone speaking to a skittish wild animal, than a guard to a prisoner. Neither of these fox aliens had ever touched me, and at times the female one seemed almost uncomfortable, like she wasn’t happy about the fact I was trapped here.

Maybe I was reading far too much into the emotions of alien beings I didn’t understand.

Or maybe this could be some kind of opportunity.

“Thank you for the food,” I said brightly, smiling and nodding at the woman. Her cat-like green eyes went huge in shock at the way I was addressing her after a day of silence from my end. She placed a tray on the table and then shyly smiled back.

She started speaking, repeating one word in particular, Aiko, Aiko, while gesturing towards herself with two closed fists.

“Aiko... Is that your name? You’re Aiko?” I pointed at her.

Her smile widened, and her fists opened and closed in a quick movement. Unlike Asha Wyflrael, who had hands similar to a human’s (apart from the claws and glowing stars, that is,) the fox people’s were different. More paw-like, with three fingers and a thumb.

She closed her fists again and aimed them towards me, repeating a lilting phrase that I tried to understand even though there was no chance I would.

“Do you want to know my name?” I asked, hoping that was it. “I’m Torrance.” I repeated my name several times, as she had done, and mimicked the way she’d used her fists to point at herself. I was rewarded with yet another smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. She seemed excited to know my name, and that buoyed my hopes. They wouldn’t want to learn my name if I was just a faceless alien prisoner. They wanted to know who I was, to see me as a person despite the circumstances. Not like him, who only seemed to care about molesting my bruised wrist and making sure that I didn’t run away or starve on his watch.

“What about you?” I asked, looking out the door to the fox alien on the landing outside my room. “What’s your name?”

This one seemed less sure than Aiko, and he looked to her for answers. Even though he was bigger than Aiko, I got the sense that he was younger, or that maybe Aiko was his boss. She said something to him, and he finally made eye contact with me, aiming his fists at his chest.