The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

At some point during the scene, Lorcan had fled the fire. He now sat next to the Unseelie, nearly on his foot, staring at her with wide eyes. He sneezed. “What’s going on with the eyes?”

“I’m not sure.”

“They’ve never done that before.”

She hesitantly turned her hand over and examined the eye closely. “No, they have not.”

The Unseelie rubbed the side of his head, a scraping sound that echoed in the silence. “Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?”

Lorcan looked up at him. “No.”

The other faerie glanced at the sky. “I forgot how much I hate cat sidhes.”

She recognized Lorcan’s quivering whiskers as a warning sign. She didn’t know what the tiny witch could do to such a massive faerie but didn’t want to tempt fate.

“About that binding curse…” She bit her lip. “Just how bad did I curse you?”

“Enough to knock me back a few steps.” He stuck out the taloned foot, motioning to peeling skin with a grimace. “And enough to share the pain.”

“Bollocks.”

“Mine are fine, thank you for asking.” He arched a brow. “How are yours?”

She hated him. She hated him with a burning passion that festered worse than the blisters. Huffing out a breath, she opened her arms wide. “What do you want me to do, faerie? I can’t remove the binding curse.”

“You must. I am not giving up immortality for a mistake made by a pathetic little human witch,” he ground out.

“This pathetic little human witch managed a curse so powerful a faerie can’t break it, so I’ll ask you to watch your tone.”

“I can use whatever tone I want. You stole my life, and now you aren’t willing to give it back?”

She wanted to tear her hair in frustration. “I’d give it back if I could.”

“Try harder.”

“Did you not see the giant lightning bolt that just came out of my hands? That’s where my magic comes from. I can hit you with it—believe me, I’d love to—but I don’t think it would end well for either of us.”

The raven eye stopped spinning and focused on her with such intensity that she took a step back. His lip curled. “I’ve been kind thus far. I haven’t asked much about the curse or tried to figure out who you are. Don’t make me be unkind.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Only if you refuse to undo the binding curse again.”

“I’m not refusing.”

He visibly relaxed.

Before he could speak, she licked her lips and continued. “I can’t undo the binding curse. There’s a reason spell books warn against casting them. They don’t want to let go. It’s like trying to unravel a tapestry tied in knots and then felted.”

“I will not tell you again—”

“And I will not keep repeating myself,” she interrupted. “You can threaten me all you’d like, but the binding curse is not something I know how to break.”

“Then you shouldn’t have cast it!”

Aisling tossed her hands in the air. “Finally, something we can both agree on.”

A blast of air blew the hair back from her face, and downy feathers touched her cheek. He had leaned down to intimidate her, crowding her with his body and great height. His breath fanned across her face as he whispered, “Remove the curse.”

“Remove it yourself,” she hissed.

“I will not be bested by a grubby little girl—”

“Who are you calling grubby?”

“—with subpar magical powers who is incapable of—”

“Subpar? I cursed you, didn’t I?”

“—controlling her own curses because she does not understand how to work magic.”

“How dare you?” Aisling gasped.

“Oh, I very much dare.” He was so close she could smell his unique scent of oak and moss. “You have no idea who I am, witch. You have no idea what I can do.”

“Likewise.”

Lorcan’s voice cut through their argument. “Why don’t we all take a few steps away from each other?”

She curled her fingers into a fist and shook it at him, daring him to step away first. She wouldn't take the hit to her pride when he was the one in the wrong.

Other than the binding curse. That was likely her fault.

Lorcan hissed. “At the same time if it makes it easier. Three, two—”

They both stepped back. The Unseelie’s chest heaved in anger, and Aisling had to pinch herself so she wouldn’t send yet another curse hurtling through the air. He’d look pretty with a hole in his chest. Or his head.

Lorcan glanced back and forth between them. “It looks like the binding curse will stay, at least for a little while. Which means you two need to stick together and figure out a way to break the curse.”

“I’m not working with him,” Aisling vehemently spat.

“I’m not working with her,” the Unseelie growled.

“Well, that’s too bad, because your lives are bound together now. You either have to live with sharing a life force or figure out a way to break it.”

The Unseelie’s raven eye rolled in its socket. He turned away from them and stalked toward the forest. “I need to think.”

Aisling plopped back onto the ground. “I wish you the best of luck! I’m certain it’s impossible for you to have a thought in your head.”

When they could no longer hear the Unseelie’s footsteps, Lorcan turned toward her and blinked. “Was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

“You don’t have to be so rude.” Lorcan stretched, his paws flexing in front of the fire before he turned and flicked his tail. “Why do you push everyone away? Hm?”

She rubbed her hands over her arms and stared into the flames. She remembered all too well what happened when people got close to her. Aisling preferred to never have them than lose them.

Bran stalked through the forest, slapping branches out of his way and snapping them in his anger. How dare she? What human had any right to refuse him anything?

Him? An Unseelie prince?

But then again, she couldn't be entirely human. No mortal witch could cast a curse this strong, and no mortal witch had a face hidden by magic. There was more to her, and if he wasn’t so infuriated, he