Page 37 of The Endless Dance

“Quickly, Szarzàa!” the female hisses behind my head. “Open the damn portal!”

Szarzàa, presumably, releases one of my arms and, with horrifying speed, opens a portal before my very eyes.

A startled squeak has us all freezing. There, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, is Faarshayal. I could have cried in relief when I saw it, though I knew it could do nothing for me. Except… it could warn Lord Draekoh.

Quickly, I simultaneously scratch and bite at the hand covering my mouth.

“Bitch!” the female hisses again, releasing me quickly.

Taking the opportunity, I scream, “Run, Faarshayal! Tell the High Lor—”

The female shrieks furiously, and a hard blow catches my temple. My vision blurs instantly, and my head lolls lazily. Blinking, I try to catch sight of the brownie, but the hallway is empty. Had the creature even been there? Had I been imagining it the whole time?

Vision fading, I am passed to a single set of arms and held against a solid chest. I turn my head again and see the portal growing bigger and closer.

Oh, hells, where the fuck were these fae taking me?

Chapter Fifteen

My head is fucking pounding. The force of the blow to my head combined with my flu-riddled body makes my temple burn. My body is still warm yet shuddering as it battles the sickness that has taken hold of me. Just my damn luck to be kidnapped while I was sick. Literally any other time would have been ideal. I was too grumpy to deal with this bullshit.

I keep my breathing steady, and my eyes closed as I take a moment to acclimatise myself. The air is mostly still, but not draughty, telling me I am outdoors. I can hear the three fae from last night muttering a little way off. Beyond that, a buzzing silence echoes. The skin on my arms pebbles. The silence felt dangerous somehow.

Staying as still as possible so as not to alert my captors to my awakened state, I reach out my fingers and pet at the ground, or earth, rather. My stomach dives as my fingers sink into what I can only describe as moist dirt. Surely they hadn’t…

Wincing, I slowly open my eyes. The world is in a hazy state of awakening, not quite morning, but the sun couldn’t be far from rising. It is enough for me to get a good look at my surroundings: white, gnarled trees, and even a small shrub with a flower shaped like a paper crane.

My every muscle freezes on instinct, and I can’t help but search the shadows. My spine crawls, and it takes everything in me not to dart to my feet to see my surroundings from every angle.

The fae bastards had taken me back to the fucking Wylden forest.

Simmering with fury and fear, I take a deep breath and force myself to relax. I strain my ears as I try to listen to the fae, who stand outside my line of vision.

“How much longer must we wait?” the female asks, voice high with anxiety. “I hate this forsaken forest.”

One of the males chuckles. “Come now, Fyana. The beasts were well fed during the Hunt. They won’t bother us.”

“Especially not when she arrives,” the other male adds, and I perk up. Who is this she? Were we waiting for her? “They say even the Skraeming Dhevilkin fears her.”

The female, Fyana, hisses. “Of course it does. She is an abomination.” She scoffs. “Can you believe Lord Draekoh is attempting the same with this one? I don’t know why we are even bothering with her. The Feeding will take her before any creature does.”

A low, threatening growl follows the female’s comment. “Our job is to take the woman to her alive.”

“She said nothing about her having to be in one piece, though,” the other male’s voice is slick with sly imaginings. I can’t help but tremble at the conviction in his voice.

I jump when the other male growls again, louder and more threatening. “No harm will come to the human, Jgaha.”

Jgaha laughs. “Relax, Szarzàa, I was just messing with you.”

Szarzàa grunts, not believing a word the other male had said. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t believe Jgaha either.

“Enough of this,” Fyana hisses, sounding nervous. “We should get moving. She told us not to stay in one place for too long.”

The males grunt in agreement, and I tense as their footsteps head my way. My mind stutters as I work through the pros and cons of pretending to still be asleep or not. Fyana’s nervousness and the other males’ cunning desires were con enough to make my decision easy.

I force myself to freeze and jolt, as if waking suddenly.

“What—” I croak, pushing myself into a squat. I force myself to gasp, then, as the males and Fyana sneer, I swing around to face my captors.