Page 10 of The Endless Dance

“No.”

He doesn’t even deign to glance at me.

“Excuse me!” I hiss. Was he serious right now?

With a sigh, Lord Draekoh shifts to face me. “Little bird, I couldn’t interfere, even if I wanted to. That male isn’t of my Court.”

“So?”

Lord Draekoh’s eyes flash dangerously. “I will not bring Faezgard to war over a fickle and insignificant human.”

I step forward, unsure if I am about to slap the High Lord in front of his entire Court, and enemy Court for that matter, but a cool hand grabs my upper arm. I spin, ready to bitch slap whoever the fuck decided they could lay a hand upon me, when I come face to face with Rita.

“Take your seat, Delta,” she whispers, urgently. Her hand, still gripping my arm, trembles. She’s terrified. A glance over her shoulder shows Frieda and Laska wearing similar looks. Could my disobedience reflect on them? Would they be punished for this?

I swallow thickly, nod, and let Rita lead me back to my chair. She picks up my platter and hurries off to refill it. Hopefully, she returns with something a little stronger than water this time. As if reading my mind, she comes back with a wine glass filled with a sparkling purple brew.

“Faerie wine,” she whispers at my peruse. When I instinctively jerk away from it, she adds, “The Faerie fruit used in this particular brew is minuscule. While a human can get drunk from just a glass, it does not affect her as the Fruit does. The purple Faerie wine is extremely mild and human-friendly. I strongly advise against the golden brew, however. That one will give the same results as the Fruit.”

I eye the drink dubiously, but decide to hell with it when I hear another pained scream coming from the girl, and down half the contents in one. My senses dull almost immediately, and I feel myself relax back into the lounge. Lord Draekoh sends me a scathing look and flicks his fingers impatiently. Laska hustles to his side and leans close as the High Lord whispers something in her ear. Laska nods and darts away with her inhuman speed. Barely a breath later, she was back, draping a sandy-furred blanket over my relaxing limbs.

I snort, remembering the plunging neckline of my dress.

“Do my tits offend you, Lord Draekoh?” I giggle as I pull the lightweight blanket over my breasts. Even with the soothing effect of the liquor, I didn’t particularly feel like baring myself to the entirety of the fae species.

I wince as another scream splits the air, this one weaker. My eyes find the poor girl, and I note how pale her face has turned. She was seconds from passing out from the pain.

Just then, a hush fell over the field. I sit up, interested in what could have caused the nervous energy amongst the fae. Some of them shuffle, creating a path for a lone, hooded figure to pass through. Somehow, I know it’s female: a slim figure, lithe limbs, and swaying hips. As feminine as some males were built, there was no denying the air of femininity that wafted around her with the dark shadows she wielded, so similar to those of the shadows shrouding the tent of the Dark Court.

“The Dark Lady,” a hushed, almost reverent whisper came from behind me.

I tilt my head, not taking my eyes off the hooded figure as she prowled towards the pale and broken girl. “The Dark Lady? Who is the Dark Lady?”

Lord Draekoh sends me a scathing look. I flip him my middle finger. He turns away with a roll of his eyes.

Laska steps close behind me and leans in to whisper in my ear. “High Lord Vellin of Dark has… extreme ideas. He has Hunted every Wild Hunt, and owned even more human women than those he has captured. Once he has the human, the result is always the same. He begins to feed them his magic.”

I swing my head around fast, almost clocking my forehead against Laska’s. “Feeds them his magic?” I hiss, just as quietly at her. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Laska’s eyes dart to Lord Dreakoh, as if seeking permission to continue. When he completely ignores us, Laska continues. “He has this idea that if you feed enough faerie magic into a human, that human can absorb it and become one of us. Fae.”

I almost snort at the notion, but keep silent to hear the rest of this story.

“It’s nearly impossible to find a human strong enough to adapt to such powerful surges of magic entering the body. All of his women eventually die.” Laska visibly gulps. “All except one.”

I gape, staring at the hooded female with fresh eyes. That female… she was once human? I eye the swirling shadows that dance around her ever-approaching form and can only stare in disbelief. Surely Laska was having me on right now… but none of my other handmaids spoke up. I look back at them and spy twin pale looks on their faces. Holy shit. It was true!

“That’s not all,” Laska says, breaking through my baffled mind. “The Lady of Darkness is now one of the most powerful fae to have ever existed. And that’s saying something, what with both the current High Lords and their incredible powers. The Lady of Darkness has even become the first ever Lady to run a Court. She sits on the throne of Dusk. High Lord Vellin takes every opportunity to show off his prized female.”

I glance back at the Dark Court’s tent and see that the shadows have receded slightly. Not enough for me to see the face of this cruel and idealistic male, but enough for me to catch a glimpse of his cunning grin and elongated canines. Goosebumps trickle up the back of my spine, and I turn away. Fuck that dude was terrifying.

Turning back to the field, the Lady of Darkness stops in front of the male and the pale girl, who is now lying at their feet, dazed and terrified but awake. The male, seemingly as terrified of the Lady as everyone else, stood firm over the woman.

“She is mine to do with as I please!” I hear him growl.

The Lady tilts her hooded head. For a moment, I think she’s going to turn and let him do to the girl as he wishes, but then her hand snaps forward and suddenly her shadows are alive and writhing, wrapping around the male’s throat and lifting him into the air.

“She may belong to you, Arko, but I do so loathe cruelty towards lesser beings,” a timber yet feminine voice comes from the shadows of the hood.