Her hackles rose. “I don’t want to talk about it. Change the subject or leave.” Well, well. The burst of anger had come with a side of strength. One she hadn’t experienced since this whole thing had kicked off.

He didn’t change the subject and he didn’t leave. “I will kill the male responsible. Just tell me his name.”

“Names. Plural,” she snapped, then pressed her lips together. She was confident William had already killed them. She’d lived with the Lords for three years now, and she’d sometimes looked up the names of her tormentors—a compulsion she despised. One day she’d discovered a police report about their horrific murders. Though no bodies had been found, their blood and...other things had been splattered all over the walls and floor of the very house where she’d suffered. The case remained unsolved.

When she’d questioned William, he’d hurriedly distracted her with a new video game, as if he feared her reaction. Except he never feared anything!

But she feared her reaction. Gratitude struck her as inappropriate, but then, so did anger.

“One man or one hundred. It makes no difference to me,” Puck said, still so matter-of-fact.

“Thanks for the offer, but they’re already dead.”

He nodded. “William must have taken care of them.”

“Are you on friendly terms with William?” she asked.

“I know of him and I’m sure he knows of me, but we’ve never officially met.”

“If you want to be his friend, sneaking around his property isn’t—”

“I don’t want to be his friend. He can hate me. I don’t care one way or the other.”

“That’s unwise. If you aren’t his friend, you’re his enemy. His enemies die. Painfully.” A fact she’d had to accept about him. He was what he was, and there was no changing him. Not that she wanted to change him. Why mess with perfection?

Puck smiled at her, for a moment he was almost...adorable? “My enemies die gratefully, glad to finally escape me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You immortals and your blood feuds.”

“Don’t you mean us immortals?”

A pang of longing—I want to live. One she ignored. “I’m going to die, remember? Before the transformation is complete.” So weird to say! “And I don’t want to think up a bucket list.” She’d have to pick things she could do from her sickbed, and how sad was that?

“You will die, yes.” He threw a pebble into the water. “I could marry you, I suppose. Save you.”

She gaped at him. “Are you actually proposing to me?”

“Yes. No. I don’t want to marry you, but I don’t not want to marry you. It’s just something to do. Something with the potential to be mutually beneficial.”

I can live! Maybe. Or she could kill him.

All right, let’s say she married him and she survived the transformation. What then? They would be man and wife. He would want to do things to her body, just as she dreaded. Bile churned, her stomach threatening to rebel. “Aren’t you worried I’ll make you mortal?”

“I’m the dominant. My life force would overpower yours, no question.”

He sounded so sure, and part of her was tempted. I can be saved! But...was her life worth the trouble that would follow such a bond? “Thank you for the kind offer non-offer, but I’m going to pass.”

“Because of my horns?”

“No.” Those were oddly...cool, she thought now. And maybe just a little sexy.

Sexy? Nothing was sexy to her.

He deserved the truth. “You would want to have...you know.”

“Sex?”

Her cheeks heated as she nodded.

“You are correct,” he said. “I would.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. Ever.”

“You think that now, but I would change your mind.” He threw another pebble into the water. “Not that I would force you. I wouldn’t. That’s one of the rules I live by. I would wait for you to want it.”

“I’m telling you, no matter how skilled you think you are, you’d have to wait forever.”

He snorted. “I’d have you in my bed within the month, guaranteed.”

Her heart skipped a beat, something warm pouring through her veins. Something she’d never experienced before.

His head tilted to the side and his ear—his pointed ear!—twitched. “William has returned. He’ll be here in five...four...three...”

“You should go,” she whispered, worry thundering inside her chest. “Please.”

“One.”

William sailed through the double doors leading to and from the home’s living room. He crouched beside her and frowned. “Are you all right, poppet? The guards—”

“I’m fine,” she rushed out, turning to gaze at—Puck was gone. Just gone. And William had no idea, otherwise he would’ve focused on the intruder first. She breathed a sigh of relief. A fight wasn’t something she wanted to witness, especially since she could do nothing to help either—no. Scratch that. Help William. Only William. Of course.

He came first.

“What happened to the men?” He studied their sleeping forms, and she had the distinct feeling each man would be dead by morning—or wish he were dead.

“Someone happened to them.” I have to tell him, don’t I? “A man. Puck. He came here and moved so quickly I couldn’t even see him. The guards were no match for his speed and strength.”

William stood so fast she would bet he’d given himself whiplash. In both of his hands a dagger glinted in the firelight. “Puck. The keeper of Indifference. He’s sworn vengeance on Torin for trapping him in another realm. How did he escape?”

Puck had failed to mention anything about that. And really, Gillian couldn’t imagine him caring enough to exact vengeance against anyone. “How do you know what he’s sworn if you’ve never met him?”

“My spies. They are everywhere, poppet.”

“Or Torin told you,” she said drily.

“Did Puck say anything to you? Did the bastard do anything to you?” Antipathy dripped from every word.

“He told me about morte ad vitam.” As William cursed, she added, “You won’t hurt him for it. And you won’t kill him. Or pay someone else to kill him.” A girl had to cover all her bases. “I should have heard the truth from you, but I didn’t, so he kindly offered to help.”