Relief rushed through me at that. He’d get out of this shadow dungeon, that was something.
Stryker strode toward the door and flung it open. He paused right before leaving the room and I braced myself, worried about what proclamation he might say next.
He looked at his guard. “And tell the kitchen staff to make a steak and send it up to her room for dinner,” he barked. “Twelve ounce, medium rare with garlic potatoes, hearty vegetables, a loaf of bread and the cook’s chocolate fudge cake.”
My mouth started to water at the mention of the delicious food, but then Stryker’s gaze swung to me and it went dry again. There was a hunger in his gaze that didn’t look like it could be satiated with food. I didn’t think he meant for me to read his face so easily, but I had. No one had ever looked at me like that before.
“She’ll need to keep up her strength for where we are going,” he said in way of an explanation and then left.
The door banged shut behind him, and I jolted at the noise. I didn’t know if I loved or hated the feelings Stryker just stirred in me, I only knew that they confused me. And that was dangerous, because no matter what, I was still determined to complete my mission. And that meant this could only end one way: with Lord Stryker’s black heart in the palm of my hand.
Chapter 9
Ihad nearly wept last night when the meal had been brought to my room. I ate every bite, I licked every crumb of chocolate cake from my fork, and afterward I was so full I felt sick. Lord Stryker had shown me a kindness by giving me the meal, in fact more than I’d asked for, but I couldn’t forget the monster that he was or what his ancestors had done to my people.
They stole our magic, cursed our land and fled to this world in hiding.
A small bag of extra clothes was packed and Shantel lead me down the stairs to a carriage that waited out front with a royal entourage of fifteen heavily armed guards on horseback. I recognized every single face. I had interrogated each one of them and they’d gazed at me in fear.
“They call you the truth witch,” Shantel told me with a slight smile as if the name amused her.
Truth witch. That didn’t sound very nice.
I ignored her and watched as she gave my bag to the porter and gestured to the front door of the carriage.
This was the first time my ankle had been unshackled and the freedom felt amazing.
With a wave goodbye, I opened the carriage door and stepped inside and then swallowed a gasp when I saw Lord Stryker sitting on one of the bench seats.
“Oh, hello,” I said, trying to cover my surprise as I shifted to sit across from him.
There was plenty of room for the both of us in the carriage, but it still felt like his essence filled every inch of the space, leaving none for me.
I settled in my seat and then my gaze flicked down to his ankle.
I groaned when I noticed the shackle ringing his ankle with a length of chain and an opened shackle attached to it. He smiled and picked up the other end, reaching beneath my skirt to grasp my left ankle.
“Excuse you.” I pushed my skirt down and tried to yank my leg out of his grasp, but he held on.
Stryker rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, little witch. Desire is the last thing I feel toward you. You’d have to put me under one of your spells to get me to touch you like that.”
His words hurt, like a knife through the heart and I couldn’t help but frown. I shouldn’t care what this monster thought of me, but hearing an attractive man say that he wouldn’t ever desire to touch you never felt good.
He looked up into my gaze, saw the hurt on my face and swallowed hard.
“You realize I have feelings, right?” I growled.
“Witches don’t feel anything,” he growled back, clicking the cuff into place and banging on the ceiling with his fist.
With a jerk, the carriage took off and Stryker nearly fell on top of me, before throwing himself back into the seat.
I was fuming mad at him. He thought I was a witch without feelings? How dare he insult me in such a way.
I glared at him for a solid hour, thinking murderous thoughts, thinking of things I would say to him and how many different ways I would win an argument. Thinking of how I would use my magic against him if I wasn’t so terrified he’d turn my faestone dagger into a puddle of molten metal if I did.
The entire time he whittled, paying me no mind. A little knife was perched deftly in his giant paw of a hand and he scraped against a wooden block delicately, but I couldn’t tell what he was carving yet.
“I’m not a witch!” I shouted after an hour passed and Stryker jumped, nearly piercing his own palm with the carving knife. “Youare the one with the dark magic who comes from a long line of Ethereum lords that stole the magic of Faerie.Youare the reason my people are at the risk of dying and losing their home.You, Lord Stryker, are a monster.” My chest was heaving by the time I’d said my peace, but I felt better.
