A single tear slid down my cheek, tracing the path so many had taken before it. I tore the furs off my body only to gasp. My initiate uniform was gone; black cotton shorts anda long-sleeved camisole replaced them. My thigh had been bandaged; black ooze stained the white material that wrapped tightly around it. Someone had undressed me and tended to me. But why? Why was I alive?
I braced myself to stand, pushing my unbound silver waves out of my face.Maybe Riven had somehow gotten me out of there. I tried to put pressure on my leg and a whimper spilled from me involuntarily. The tent flap burst open, and I stilled. An impossibly large form stepped inside, making the space feel claustrophobic. Shadows that seemed alive enveloped half of him, as though they were trying to drag him into their depths. The shadows dissipated as he walked inside the tent. He studied me with a predatory gaze, dark eyebrows drawn together slightly as the muscles in his strong jaw feathered. My eyes darted to the open tent flap behind him. A way out. His pointed ears stuck through his black curls, multiple metal rings protruding through the flesh. He tilted his head to one side as he took a slow step towards me.
The powerful muscles of his exposed abdomen seemed to ripple with every movement. I hated this monster with every part of my being. He had killed Orin, killed Bohdi, and abducted me.
“Did you get your name from staring people to death? Or are you going to get on with it?” I spat towards the warrior, limping a step closer. If I could get a better angle to the exit, maybe I could run past him. He held a wooden bowl in his large, tattooed hand. He extended it towards me, those dark, soulless eyes never leaving me. When I didn’t take it, he sighed in frustration.
“Eat,” his deep voice rumbled almost like a growl, thick with his accent.
I snatched the bowl from him without breaking eyecontact. The aromas that wafted towards me were mouth-watering. My stomach grumbled but I couldn’t eat. Not now.
“Where am I?” I demanded, hating the way my voice broke.
“Eat,” the warrior growled again. I hated being ignored. Blackness bled into the corners of my vision, my power pressing against my skin, begging to be let free. I was no longer something to be ignored.
“Tell me where I am!” I yelled; my voice layered eerily with multiple tones. My power flickered out like a candle dropped in water. I felt… empty. My vision returned to normal, and the Fae’s lips tilted in an arrogant smirk.
“Lumireth.”
A single word uttered flipped my entire world upside down. I’d been taken through the gate. I was no longer in my realm. No one ever came back from Lumireth, unless it was in mutilated pieces.
“Ugh!” I threw the bowl at him, gritting my teeth against the pain. Gods, everything hurt. Before I could think about it, I ran for the opening in the tent. I gasped, stalling mid-step as shadows formed in front of me, withering and bending unnaturally. They spilt like ink and twisted into the shape ofhim. My senses screamed at me to flee.
He stepped from the darkness itself, sculpted muscle pulling into existence as if the void obeyed his will. Or maybe he was the void. Liquid coated his chest from the bowl I threw at him. His nostrils flared as the amusement drained from his face, and his dark lashes feathered shut as a predatory growl rumbled through his chest. I took a shaky step backwards, as warmth trickled down my leg, the pain throbbing with every rapid beat of my heart. Gods damn it,I had opened my wound. I glanced back up at the Commander, fear engulfing my body as the onyx of his eyes bled into the whites, swallowing them whole. Small, black veins spread from around the pits of darkness that were now his eyes. He bared his teeth at me, and my eyes caught on the sharp canines that could rip me to shreds.Run,my instincts begged me. I staggered forward, trying desperately to get past his ridiculously large body.
A cry left my lips as large hands wrapped around my waist painfully tight. He threw me over his shoulder as if I were nothing, my hair flinging into my face with the force. I screamed, my fists slamming into his back as I thrashed my legs. “Stop!” I screamed. His steps caused my body to bounce on his broad shoulder while I kicked. He threw me down onto the furs, their softness cushioning my fall. My breath whooshed out of me as I landed on my back, my hair splayed out wildly around me.
I scootched up onto my elbows and gathered my feet underneath me, but they gave way. Pain shot from my thigh, blood gushing from the soaked bandage. A whimper left my lips. I knew better than to let my pain show and instantly regretted it. The Commander of Death stood above me and my breath caught in my throat. My blood was smeared over his chest, mixed with the food I had thrown at him. He looked more beast than male.
“Don’t. Move,” his deep voice demanded, making my heart pound rapidly.
He closed his eyes, his chest expanding with a deep breath. Moments past, but nothing happened. When he finally opened his eyes, the black veins dissipated, and his eyes returned to normal. He knelt beside me, and I flinched like prey cornered by a predator. Because I was. I couldn’t run. My power was drained, and I had no idea where I was.
His large hands gripped my thigh and roughly unravelled my sodden bandage. I kicked my leg, desperately trying to get out of his grasp despite the pain that begged me to stop.
“Be still, insufferable little thing,” he grunted as I tried and failed to twist away.
“What are you doing?” I gasped through the pain. Hot, angry pain that radiated into my bones. He paused, raising one eyebrow at me as if I were daft.
“Fixing,” he grunted.
Good luck with that,I thought inwardly.
“You did this to me and then try tofixme?” I scoffed. “Just let me die.”
“The Mortals did this to you, not me.” He finished unwrapping the bandage and I tried to kick out of his grip, but his hand tightened with punishing force. “Be still, or I will chain you to this bed.”
I straightened, breath hitching.Not chains.He watched my reaction closely and released me, clearly satisfied. Gooseflesh pebbled on my skin where his hand had been.
He waved his hand to the side, and I gasped as a bowl of water and medical supplies appeared from the shadows. He picked up a damp cloth from the bowl, the muscles in his arms flexed as he wrung out the excess water. He could break me so easily.
This close, he was even more intimidating, yet I couldn’t help staring at the intricate markings that covered his tanned muscles. How could something so dangerous look so?—
No. He is a vicious killer. A predator who needed to wear a shirt.
I hissed, pain ripping through every nerve in my leg as he wiped the cloth against my wound. Bile rose in mythroat. I was used to seeing my skin torn or split, but they were precise, deliberate cuts. Notthis. The wound in my thigh was a round mess of gore and black ooze. I whimpered in pain, but he kept the same unrelenting pace as if this task was boring him and not burning every single nerve ending in my body.
“Why keep me alive?” I hissed through ragged breaths. I stilled. What if he knew I was Stonebriar’s Princess? What if they were going to torture me and use my life to bend the will of my father? How disappointed they would be when they realised the king did not care for his daughter.
