Page 21 of Blood of the Fairest

This will sting. Hold still and cry pretty for me.

Abruptly, the darkness holding me hostage drops away. I gasp as my head snaps upright. My heart thunders frantically inside my chest, cold sweat of panic dripping down my neck.

For a moment, all I can see is that basement from all those years ago. The wood pellet stove. The pictures of me pinned all over the wall. The steady drip of blood onto the cement floor as⁠—

I shake my head to dispel that horrible memory. Then I take in my real surroundings, inhaling a deep breath of an old, damp, foresty smell.

I wasn't conscious during the journey here, but this looks like some kind of shadowy ancient dungeon reclaimed by nature.

A small natural waterfall pours steadily from somewhere in the ceiling into a small underground stream gurgling nearby. Several large, deep puddles of water have formed around it, breaking up the rough-hewn stone blocks littering the ground between overgrown moss. The sconces on the stone walls are unlit, but a bit of sunlight creeps in behind me from a half-collapsed tomb-like entrance, which I have to crane my neck to see.

At one end of this ruined dungeon is a massive cage made of thick, twisted metal and thorny vines as thick as trees. A few burgundy roses bloom along the vines, but many have wilted away to join countless dark feathers spilling out at the foot of the cage.

I can't see what's in the cage, but I feel it watching me as malicious energy permeates this dim room.

The Huntsman stands nearby, glowering with his impressive arms crossed over his chest. He still looks murderous, but says nothing.

Oh, god. What are my chances of making it out of this mess when the Huntsman is clearly an enemy to the evil queen now?

A cold male voice scrapes through the air from inside the cage.

"Remove the gag so I can hear her beg."

The Huntsman withdraws his knife. With a sneer on his handsome face, he cuts the gag in one swift movement. Clearly on purpose, he lets the blade drag across my right cheek, leaving a sharp sting behind that immediately starts to drip.

My stomach flips when he reaches for the broken gag.

"Wait, don't⁠—"

Too late. Scarlet blood from my cheek has dripped onto his rune-covered hand.

I flinch, not wanting to see how the queen's blood will fuck up this guy. Despite what he's doing to me right now, I'm way too fragile to handle another head-melting incident.

But nothing happens.

"Go on, speak. After nearly a hundred years, it had better be a thorough plea for mercy," the voice in the cage warns.

I'm still staring at my blood on the Huntsman's hand. He doesn't bother wiping it off, just continues to look at me like I'm horse shit stuck to the bottom of his boots.

I don't get it. Why isn't it hurting him?

A clanking sound echoes inside the shadowy cage, like the unseen monster is dragging around heavy chains.

"Speak."

At first, I'm not sure I can, thanks to the painfully reminiscent fear clogging my lungs.

"A-a hundred years?" I finally rasp. "What happened a hundred years ago?"

The laugh from the shadows is cold. "Don't mock me. I hope you know, Reinhilde, that your reckoning will not be a swift one. One such as you, albeit powerful, has no place imprisoning a faerie."

There's a fucking faerie in that cage? That's who she's pissed off—one of the revered magical beings Merrick mentioned?

If I ever meet the real Rhinestone, I'll wring her neck myself. That bitch doesn't know how to pick her fights.

"However, in all the years this curse has constrained me, I have found no way to weaken it," the monster goes on. "So I offer you a choice as to when you will suffer beyond mortal comprehension. Release me now, and I shall wait until you are old and grey before exacting my wrath upon you. Choose not to free me, and I will assume that killing you here and now will break your damnable hold over me at last."

He's like a game show host from hell, which makes me the contestant who's doomed no matter what option she picks.