“If that will make you our willing partner, then we agree,” I tell her, my voice steady, although I feel anything but calm right now.
One by one, we place our hands together in the center. She hesitates before placing her hand down, the faintest tremor in her fingers. The dagger at her side pulses with light, its blade glowing softly in the moonlight, an acknowledgment of the pact we’re forging. There’s an odd sense of finality to the act, a sense of fate sealing itself between us.
The glow from the dagger intensifies briefly, casting long shadows across the forest, and I can’t shake the feeling that this moment was set in motion long before she was ever strapped to the altar. It feels like destiny weaves itself around us, tangible and unyielding.
But it’s her, Alette, who draws my attention most of all.
There’s something about her that bothers me, a sense of emptiness that clings to her, something that feels off. Most humans would have been overjoyed, perhaps even overwhelmed, to be bound to four fae kings, four powerful, immortal beings. But not Alette. She looks troubled. Disturbed, even. As if the weight of our bond means nothing but another heavy burden for her to bear.
I find myself wondering what happened to her.What did she lose? What made her so... joyless?
What kind of woman, when offered everything, seems to ask for nothing?
I glance at her face, trying to read the lines of her expression. There’s a weariness to her, a hollowness in her eyes, like she’s already been through a war, and perhaps she has. But the question still lingers… what made her this way?
“The deal is done then,” I whisper, the words feeling strangely heavy.
“The deal is done,” the other three kings echo, their voices melding into one, a strange harmony that hangs in the air.
I shake my head as our hands drop, as if trying to dispel the thoughts that crowd my mind. I should focus on the task at hand, on the labyrinth, our magic, and the agreement we’ve forged. There will be time to understand her later, if she lets us.
The dagger’s glow fades, the coolness of its light dissipating like a dream slipping from my grasp. King Ashton’s voice cuts through the silence, vibrant and teasing. “Well, now that everything’s settled,” he says, flashing that trademark grin of his, the one that always seems to charm the room, “let’s head back to the celebration. I’m sure they’ve brought out the honeyed wine by now.” He offers her his arm, the gesture light and casual.
Alette looks at him, then at the others, as if weighing her options, a storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface. There’s a great deal of hesitation in her movements when she finally takes his arm, and the slight stiffness in her posture doesn’t escape my notice.
She’s not happy about it. But she’s going along with it. She’s going along withus.
A woman who doesn’t want to be in the company of the four fae kings… Has there ever been a stranger thing?
I watch her as she walks beside King Ashton, her back straight, her expression carefully closed off. There’s something in the way she moves, something that’s so different from us. So detached. So careful not to give anything away. She’s not like any human I’ve met. There’s more to her than meets the eye. And for reasons I can’t explain, I need to know what it is.
The rest of us fall in line behind them, the weight of our decision hanging heavily between us. But the real question still remains… who is this chosen human we’re tied to? Who is Alette?
And is she really the key to our freedom?
10
Alette
Music swells like a living thing,the rhythm foreign and unsettling. King Ashton leads me through the patio doors, and we pause in the doorway. Me, fighting the way my head feels light and detached. Him, staring at me as he drops his hold on me.
Glancing away from him, I look at the room in confusion. Like magic, the tables are gone, and a dance floor is full of dancing fae. King Ashton takes a couple steps forward, then looks back at me, waiting, but I don’t know what for. He should join his people. He should dance if he wants to. And just leave me alone.
But I get the feeling this night is far from over, even though I’m exhausted and spent. My mind keeps searching for that quiet, safe space inside me to disappear into, but the sharp world around me keeps me tethered to reality. Everything about this world is too bright, too colorful, too full of movement and noise.
Fae spin and sway in elegant, otherworldly dances, their bodies moving with a fluid grace I could never hope to mimic.It’s mesmerizing, almost like watching a river flow effortlessly around rocks, washing over every obstacle with ease. The room is alive with vibrant colors, fire fae in blazing reds and oranges, their movements sharp and fierce; water fae in deep blues, their steps flowing like water over stones; earth fae in muted greens and browns, grounding and steady; and wind fae in stark whites and silver, darting gracefully as if carried by unseen currents. It’s breathtaking, and yet the beauty feels foreign and hollow.
I much prefer watching the drunks dancing at the inn.
“Pretty little human,” King Ashton’s voice cuts through the music, smooth and full of charm. It’s a voice that seems to wrap around me, warming me momentarily before I remember who I really am, where I really am, andwhothis fae king really is to me.
I turn to see he’s come back to stand close to me, so close I’m shocked I didn’t sense him sooner. His golden hair gleams under the light of the chandeliers like it’s a halo around him. “Dance with me.”
“Dance?” I repeat, eyeing his outstretched hand as if it might bite me.
“Yes, dance. You know, when two people move to music?” he teases, stepping even closer. I can feel the heat radiating from his body like a fire. “I promise to make it the best dance of your life.”
Not that there’s much of a competition. I’ve never danced with anyone outside of silly dancing at the town tavern. Ever. And certainly not at a fancy ball like this. That thought rolls over me, making a ball form in my stomach. “I don’t know how to dance…”
