The barmaid walked over, two tankers in her hands. She placed them before us, her face turning into a scowl as Rhael pushed my tanker away with the back of his hands.
“She doesn't drink?” The barmaid asked, keeping her hands on her hips eyeing Rhael suspiciously.
“She doesn't need to.” Rhael replied, his voice gruff, as his shoulder slumped forward.
“I suppose she doesn't talk either?” She asked, not bothering to hide her eye roll. Leaningforward to pick up the tanker I saw her try to peek at Rhael’s face to no avail.
“Not unless asked to,” he snapped, making it clear that he was not in any mood for an argument or anyone else's opinions. I had wanted to laugh, to tell the poor barmaid that as much as she wanted to argue with him, she would not win, I had experience in that.
The barmaid scowled at him before walking away, her hips swaying as she returned to the bar. Her eyes continued to flick to us once every so often. Her disapproval for him was as clear as her pity for me.
We settled back into our seats. Watching as the tavern door opened twice but no one of note came in. I could feel Rhael getting more cautious, more agitated as we were made to wait longer.
“She is already here.” He murmured, finally talking to me.
“Where?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes on the floor, to hide the fear slowly twisting in my stomach.
“Close. She is watching,” he whispered again, leaning closer this time and retightening the rope. It was time for our performance to begin, and I knew it would have to be a long game.
If the Siren Queen had been here watching, there was no idea what she already did or did not know. She could have seen Rhael untie my ropes already, or we could have been lucky, and it would have been something she missed.Although I hated that we had to rely on luck. It was very rarely on my side.
A man approaching our table drew me out of my deep thoughts. He was broad shouldered and thick through the middle, his cheeks flushed from drink. His beard was uneven and the smell of stale alcohol rolled off him in waves. Confidence filled his eyes as he swaggered over the table.
“Well now, that is a fine one,” he smirked, his large sausage looking fingers resting on the table as he leaned forwards, his eyes lingered on me, moving up and down slowly.
“She's not for sale.” Rhael said, his voice was steady, but his hands tightened on the rope beneath the table as he fought for control. The tavern noise around us dulled as nearby ears strained to listen to the conversation.
“Everything is for sale, just for the night. I will pay you generously for your time without such a pretty little thing.” The man laughed as he crouched down lower to my level, his hand reaching out to stroke across my cheek.
His calloused touch making me want to vomit or tell him to fuck off. Instead, I leant backwards away from him, my eyes narrowed as I pressed myself into the seat. Ignoring the dust that pushed from the seat out into the air.
It was not the first time someone had offered to purchase me for a night. Fion had received offers before and if the price was right he would have always agreed. I couldn’t helpbut feel that familiar weight of panic in my chest. Just wondering if Rhael would be cold enough to do the same.
“She is not yours to purchase,” Rhael explained, each word measured as he rose slowly to his full height. The movement alone was enough to draw attention, most conversations stopped in their tracks, heads turning to look at us. So much for laying low.
“Anything is worth purchasing. Name your price. I will be gentle, friend.” The man scoffed, pushing out his chest as if he thought he could truly take on Rhael and beat him in a battle of wills.
Friend. The word had barely left his mouth when Rhael’s hand moved, too fast for human eyes to track. The man's wrist was caught in Rhael’s grip, twisted just enough to bring the human to his knees without breaking a bone. A sound of shock escaped from his throne before he registered the pain.
The tavern was silent save for some chairs being pushed back against the floor, as the man's friends stood up in outrage. Rhael did not falter. His grip tightened as the man tried to wrench free and failed.
“She is mine. You do not get to barter for something that is not yours to buy.” He snarled, his face leaning down to the man's level as he knelt on the floor. His hood slipped back allowing the candle light to catch his eyes which had, once more turned completely pitch black.
Every breath caught within the room as they all recognised that he was not human. Fae. The word moved like a breathless whisper as Rhaelreleased the man abruptly. Pushing him back into the old, battered carpet, the human scrambling away on his hands and knees.
Knowing his ruse was up he sat back at the table, no longer trying to hide who he was. Anger coiled within him as he squared his shoulder in the seat.
It was not long before another figure approached our table. The tavern had returned to its original atmosphere, conversation filling the space. Eyes still watched us cautiously, but no one said a word.
The new figure looked almost elven, save for the magic that seemed to cling to her skin. Long pale blonde hair tied in a braid, lying flat against her petite frame. Sparkling green eyes accompanied high cheekbones in effortless grace as she sat down opposite Rhael.
“You seemed to have made quite a scene, King Rhael.” She mused, her voice smooth as a knowing look crossed her face. One leg crossed over the other as she braced her long slender fingers over her knee.
“I always aim to please My Queen.” Rhael’s voice comes out smooth as a small smile plays on his lips.
The Siren Queen had arrived, and it was time for the game to begin.
Chapter Twenty Six
