I nod. “Yes.”
“In my house, you’ll be safe, and blood slaves are relatively safe around the city when you go out. You’ll need to wear these and the colour red at all times.” He hands me two silver bracelets. They have his name written on them, and also a symbol.
The hammer symbol again. “What does this mean?”
He looks away from me. “I work in the palace.” My blood goes ice cold. “I make metal work for the royal soldiers, with the powerborn fae under my command. My estate is just outside the castle. It’s tiny, but it’s nothing for you to be concerned about living in. You’ll be able to enter the city with the carriage whenever you wish. I will not bring you into the castle, so you have nothing to fear from the royals.”
“Why should I trust you?” I ask after a long pause.
“Because your mother trusted Blaire, and Blaire loved your father,” he bluntly informs me. She loved him. “I will keep you safe.”
Little does the professor know, or I know at this time, that by picking me, he would never, ever be able to keep me safe.
I wake up to the sound of light tapping, like rain pinging off a glass window. Lifting my head, I first see a massive black boot in front of me as I breathe in the smell of whatever is still on my skin. There is a foul taste in my mouth that reminds me of the man who kidnapped me from my room and shoved a cloth into my face. It’s an herbal scent, and my eyes are burning from it. I draw my eyes up his immense body to come face to face with King Ziven as he towers over me, his thick arms crossed, tight black shirt and heavy dark trousers. He was the man in my room. His black hair is just as messy as when we met, locks of it falling down his forehead as his silver eyes watch me. No mercy, no empathy. There is nothing but bitter hostility lingering in his weighted gaze. He leans down and before I can blink, there’s a silver dagger pressed directly to my throat, the tip cutting the skin just underneath my chin. “Give me a reason not to kill you.”
That should be an easy answer for most people. Most people would say their loved ones’ names, speak of the future they planned out or the dream they want to live. The problem is, I don’t exactly have a reason, other than the very basic, the obvious answer. “I want to live, but I won’t beg. I promised myself that I’d never beg a king again.”
His eyes darken, the silver going impossibly grey. “What king could you know before me and Daegan? Has he had you begging already?”
I won’t tell him anything, but that slip of the tongue was a mistake. He can kill me if he wants, I can’t tell him more. “Killing me is not going to get you anything that you want.” He pushes the dagger into my neck, nipping my skin. I gasp. “Killing me will just leave you trapped in here.”
He smiles at my bluff, like he got exactly what he wanted. I don’t know why I just said that. “You do know exactly how you got in here, little liar?” He grabs the back of my neck and lifts me up to him. Somehow, he doesn’t hurt me more with the dagger as he leans down over me until our faces are inches apart. There’s nothing but fury written in his eyes. “You come in here on the night of the greatest storm I’ve ever seen and cause trouble, unrest through our people. I was going to let you live until you tried to blackmail me with your knowledge.”
“I-I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me, Storm,” he sneers. “Knowledge like that is going to get you killed.”
His breath mixes with mine with how close he is holding me to his body, only an inch apart. He smells like stormy nights full of rain, a deep masculine oakmoss and lime scent and everything forbidden. He makes it hard to focus. “I told you all the truth. Etena would have known if I lied.”
“Etena can see when someone lies, but it does not mean she can’t lie to protect Daegan’s interests.” Ziven runs the dagger up my chin, up my cheek and back down. “It would be so easy to plunge this dagger into your heart and stop it all before it goes too far.”
“Stop what?” I breathe out. He lets me go. I finally feel like I can move as he takes a step back, blinking more than once, his long dark eyelashes fluttering. Now the dagger’s not on my throat, and his hand’s not burning into the back of my neck, everything feels a little less intense. He walks away from me and sits down on a chair, a single chair in the dark room we are in. Oil lanterns burn on the walls, but they burn silver, casting a strange light upon both of us. He leans elbow on his knee and watches me like he is bored. We say nothing for a long time, and I wonder how long I’ve been in here. Will anyone come for me, or will he let me go? “Tell me a secret, Storm.”
“My name is Story Dehana, and I am proud of my name. It is not Storm,” I answer, lifting my head high even when all I want to do is bang the walls, beg for someone to save me from him. I’m shaking again and I hate how much he can see it. He must think I’m weak. “And I have no secrets that would interest you.”
“We both know you’re lying. I don’t need the precious Etena to tell me that,” he smirks. I glance at the moon mark on his cheek. How it moves slightly, like it’s alive. The dragons on his hands and arms move too, flying slowly around. He follows my gaze, and I snap my eyes up. “Ask.”
“What are those marks? What is your power?” I blurt out.
His eyes are nothing but amused. “You wouldn’t want to know what my power is, and I said ask. I didn’t say I wished to be your tutor, Storm.”
That nickname again. “Can’t be that great if you’re trapped in here with the rest of them,” I snap and instantly regret the words when his eyes bleed of all amusement, leaving pure anger. Shut up, Story. For the love of the deities, don’t wind this king up. I lift my hands in the air. “Look, I’m sorry about hitting you in the balls, but you were kidnapping me, so I feel like that was your fault, too. I’m going to go, because apparently you demanded I go do some kind of crazy ass trial thing, and I don’t want to do that, but I doubt I’m getting a choice.”
“You’re going to walk straight out the door, Storm?” He sits straighter. “Tell me how you did that. Did the king you knew tell you we were here and sent you to be a spy to kill us all?”
My mouth parts. “No! Deities above, no!” I shake my head. “And it’s Story. I don’t appreciate nicknames, and I’m not a spy.”
“While you continue to lie to me, you will be called whatever I wish, Storm.”
I snap my teeth together. “Fine, call me whatever you want. I’m no liar.”
He laughs, a cruel, taunting laugh. “Everyone is a liar. You’re going to tell me your secrets and exactly how you got in here, why you’re here, and if you take one step against us, I’ll make sure your death is painful. Your king will only get your ashes back.”
He’s insane. Completely insane.
“King Ziven, we don’t know each other, but I don’t want an enemy. I’m not here to—”
“More lies.” He waves a hand, cutting me off. “I was told about how you believe you have no powers. Lessborn? What a bullshit name.”
That might be the only thing we agree on. “I’m not powerborn—”
Suddenly light shines in from behind me, and I turn just in time to see a wall literally collapsing on itself, bright burning golden light shining in through it. Daegan steps in and the light is coming from his hands, pure sunlight. He looks me over, clearly checking for injuries, and walks straight to my side. His hand rests on my back, and it’s a possessive move that I see Ziven smirk at. I’m not sure I like it, because we barely know each other, but he might get me away from Ziven, so I don’t move. “Do you want to start a war, Ziven?”
“Are you suggesting we have a war? The last was fun,” Ziven answers, casually leaning back.
Daegan clenches his jaw. “Fun is not a word I would use for the deaths. Our peace treaty is simply paper, easily burnt in the light, and you know what that would mean.”
They both look at each other. Ziven yawns. “You’re not the only one that gets to keep her like a pretty doll you’ve picked up from a shop. I don’t see any sun marks on her hands, on her cheeks or neck. Therefore, she’s not yours. I did not break any part of our treaty. Have you even dared to ask her to be in your dynasty yet?”
“The treaty has no part about fae outside the dynasties,” Daegan responds. “She is coming with me, if she wants to.”
“I do,” I answer quickly.
Ziven only winks at me. “Go then. She’s not going to talk yet, but I’m sure the Decidere will loosen her tongue. If she survives the first day, then she spends half her week here, in my dynasty, so she can make a choice of her own. That’s my offer.”
It sounds like there is an “or else” missing at the end of his words. “I didn’t know I was up for discussion about where I lived here.”
Daegan glances at me, his voice softer. “There are old laws from the fae. Back before the doom, when a fae turned eighteen, they would spend six months in each dynasty so they might choose where they wanted to pledge to. Once pledged in blood to a dynasty, you cannot change.”
