This time, she reacted. But the act of turning to look at him seemed to take a physical effort, as though it was all she could do to look at him. Every line of her body was tense with suppressed emotion. ‘Have you come back to see your handiwork, Birin, or have you found another foolish plaything?’
His brows knitted. ‘You were never a plaything. Why do you say that?’
She stared at him incredulously. ‘For two years, you bedded me, then discarded me like a whore! If I had borne you a child, I would have had to raise it alone, cast out by my kind as well as your own. What is that, if not the life of a plaything?’
‘You knew as well as I that it couldn’t last,’ he said. ‘That there was no future in our relationship for either of us. What sort of life-’
She was suddenly furious. ‘Damn you! Do not dare to try to speak my mind! You have no concept!’ She made a small animal noise of frustration, and struggled for self-mastery once more. In an empty voice, she said ‘There is not an Outcast here who doesn’t have an Elf or a Human as a sire! I suppose you’re going to tell me that their parents were all seduced. Or are you going to tell me that you believe those tales about Pixies feeding their own young to wolves, or abandoning them in the wild?’