by J. L. Weil
He said nothing, not even acknowledging my presence, but he gave a curt nod to Ryker, his lord.
I’d been snubbed by a guard.
My cheeks heightened in color—part embarrassment and part anger. Devyn had warned me that winning over the people wouldn’t be easy. I was half mortal and deemed by most to be unworthy for the throne, and until I had the power to show them that I indeed was their queen, I was just a half-breed in their eyes. No better than the scum on their boots.
Smugness tugged at Ryker’s lips as we ascended the circular stairs to the far right. My heart beat so fast that I felt the urge to vomit. The stairwell was narrow, hardly big enough for two people and for sure not two males.
I avoided glaring at Ryker and kept my focus on the winding steps, even though I felt his eyes on me. At the top of the stairs, we came to an open sitting area with a round table, a couch, and a few chairs. Books lined one wall, and the one across from it was covered in glass. On the back wall was an arched doorway … as well as two sentinels.
“Here we are,” Ryker said, swinging open the wooden door.
I swallowed and strolled into a lavish room of silver, blue, and white, reminding me of the night sky. The furniture was hand carved and painted with silver swirls. A four-poster bed was nestled against the far wall with a window on either side. No curtains framed the windows, allowing the sun to stream across the floor in vibrant patterns.
My fingers wrung together. I needed to do something with my hands or I might go crazy. Scream. Cry. Attack. All of the above. My sanity was a thin thread about to snap. More than anything, I wanted to be alone. I needed a moment to myself to collect the storm of emotions rocking and thrashing inside me.
Perhaps he could sense my fragile state. I didn’t really care one way or the other, as long as he left me alone. “He will come for you,” he said in a gruff manner, hovering in the doorway.
I blinked, stiffening my lip from the surge of emotion at the mention of Devyn. He didn’t have to specify who he meant. It was obvious. “I know.” And I would deal with it then.
He opened his mouth as if he wanted to press the subject of Devyn finding me, but he finally decided against it. With a blunt nod, Ryker shut the door to my room, leaving two sentinels stationed outside. He couldn’t disguise what the tower really was: a beautiful prison.
The lock clicked behind him.
Chapter Two
KARINA
I stood in the middle of the room, staring at the closed door, uncertain of what I was supposed to do next. When I agreed to come with Ryker, I was only thinking about Holly’s safety, not what would happen after.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, this room was stunning and had a calmness to it. Unless, of course, it was all a mirage—some fae glamour to get me to let my guard down, make me think I was safe, when, in fact, I was in some dirty dungeon with only rats as companions.
I did have two sentinels outside my door. Perhaps they were the rats.
Strolling over to the bed, I tested out the mattress by bouncing on it a few times. The navy blue duvet felt like a feather cloud. My fingers toyed with the stone at my neck as I got up and roamed around the room. Across from the king-size bed were two doors. One led to a small dressing room and the other a bathing chamber, complete with a deep tub, a vanity, and a toilet. All the necessities, including soaps and shampoos, were laid out for me to use.
I wandered back into the bedroom and rummaged through the drawers of the nightstands and dresser, looking for clues or weapons. To be frank, I didn’t know what I was searching for, but if I found something that would help me out of this situation or I could use to defend myself if the occasion arose, I wanted to be prepared. For anything.
My frustration grew when I came up empty-handed. Not even a freaking hairpin had been left in the bathroom.
I sat by the window, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on them as I overlooked the land and sea below. A princess locked in a tower, just like a fairy tale.
But I didn’t want a prince to save me.
I wanted my warrior … wherever he was.
The hole in my chest widened with each thought of him. For my own well-being, I needed to keep those thoughts to a minimum or I would break down. I could feel them rising up within me, and I clenched my fingers together, knowing that once I let the waterworks loose, there would be no stopping the dam from breaking.
I opened the window and peered out, curious if there were also sentinels stationed outside. I was surprised the windows didn’t have bars, but then I remembered what he said about this place being his summer home. Maybe the prison bars were reserved for his castle in the heart of Orangeoland.
The tang of salt in the air brought back all those memories of my life in Seaside Heights. The weather there wasn’t so balmy and tropical as here, but the sloshing of water against the cliffs was a familiar sound. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek to the windowsill, letting myself go back there—back home. The illusion didn’t last but a few moments. It was all wrong: the smell, the sun, the feeling. Even with the song of the water, I couldn’t trick myself into believing I was somewhere else.
My frustration shifted to uneasiness, causing my skin to itch like ants were crawling over my skin. The four walls around me were closing in, which had the fox inside me panicking.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to run. Caged. Locked inside. The fox paced inside me, reciting our predicament over and over again.
I ran my hands up and down my arms to rid myself of the edge that had taken over, but it did little to soothe the trapped animal. I contemplated shifting to see if that would calm the beast but then decided against the idea, thinking about the damage I could do with my nails and teeth. These pretty walls wouldn’t stand a chance.
Not that I cared about the room or the elegant furnishings, but it beat staying in the dungeons and sleeping on a slab of damp, moldy stone stained with rat piss.
My fox might be losing her shit—the pressure clamping down on my chest was proof of that—but it reminded me who the frick I was. Foxes were known to be tricksters, sly and inventive. My magic was always a part of me regardless of which form I wore. Perhaps I could void back to Devyn or home even.
A seed of hope bloomed in the pit of my stomach, and I tried not to get my hopes up. I closed my eyes and tried to summon the shadows, calling the darkness to cloak me like a cool blanket from the heat. It only took seconds to feel the familiar tingles of my powers in my blood, but that was the extent of it.
Nothing happened.
I covered the soul star with my hand and noticed its lack of warmth. Coolness radiated under my skin as if my magic had been blocked, unable to leave my body and reach out into the world.
What the hell? Why wasn’t my magic working?
Trepidation uncurled in my chest. Without my powers, I was utterly defenseless, other than the few hand-to-hand combat lessons I’d had with Devyn, but up against a fae with magic, I was once again just a mortal girl.
Did that mean I couldn’t shift either?
Like a sailor lost at sea, I desperately searched for a lifeline as I went through the motions of trying to conjure each of my powers before attempting to shift into my Kitsune skin, but to no avail. I let out a shriek of anger and annoyance, not caring what the sentinels outside my room thought.
They were the least of my concerns.
From one corner of the room to the other, I paced, biting my nails as I thought and plotted. If I couldn’t use magic, could I climb down the tower walls? I went to the window and stuck my head out, peering over the side to count the number of stories. A groan of irritation left my lips. Climbing down from the tower was out of the question unless I wanted to risk breaking my neck.
Defeated and exhausted, I padded over to the enormous bed and flopped down. The tears came then, fast and hot. For Devyn. For myself. For Mom. I was utterly alone now. In a strange world and so very lost.
Curling into a ball, I wound my arms around a pillow, my sho
ulders shaking with sobs as tears soaked the white fabric.
I must have eventually dozed off, for the next thing I knew, metal clanged outside the door. It sounded like someone wrestling keys into the lock before flipping it open, dragging me out of a sweet dream and into a nightmare made flesh. I whipped my head up and toward the door just as knuckles rapped against the wood.
Groaning, I rolled over, longing to return to my blissful dream where Devyn was kissing me on a beach with my toes curling in the warm sand.
The hinges on the door squeaked open, and I knew I had to forgo the fantasy for the harsh reality that was my life.
“Who are you?” I snapped at the woman, my voice scratchy. “Are you his wife?”
The woman waved a hand in the air and let out an amused chuckle. “Gods, no. I’m the royal governor, Tessa.” She was a rotund woman with curvy hips that swayed with her movements. Her soft brown hair twined into a long braid with wisps curling around her plump cheeks, which were reddened by the heat. Her chocolate eyes twinkled at my mistake.
I shoved the dark hair out of my face and sat up in the middle of the bed, watching her with hawk-like precision as she carried a silky, dark sapphire fabric over her arm. “What is that for?” I asked, indicating the dress she sprawled out on the end of the bed.
“Dinner, of course. You do eat, don’t you?” Her brown brows lifted.
I wasn’t certain if she was teasing me, mocking me, or genuinely curious. “Is he planning to poison me?” I asked. My predicament wasn’t this woman’s fault, but I couldn’t help but take my anger driven by fear out on her.
She clucked her tongue, her glossy eyes losing some of their glimmer. “Best not to let Zyron hear you talk about his food like that. The man takes great pride in feeding the castle.”
“What kind of fae are you?” I asked, eyeing the dress like it was a scorpion. It was fit for a queen, and although I was technically a queen, I didn’t want to wear something so lavish for Ryker.
“The good kind.” She winked, not giving me a real answer.
“How long have you been in my uncle’s service?” I inquired, trying again to get information.
“Since I was a child. My family has served the Salvotory family for generations.” She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “How about a bath before you dress? You’ve had quite the day, I imagine.”
How much did she know about me and about how I came to be here? I dropped my gaze and scooted off the bed. “Do you know who I am?”
“You’re the mortal queen who was chosen to save this world, the heir of King Ryo.”
Chosen? Had I really been chosen though? Or was I the only option? My bloodline had given me magic. It had never been a choice … not for me.
“A bath would be nice,” I said, offering Tessa a tentative smile. I might not want to wear the dress or eat dinner with my uncle, but a long soak did sound divine. And it was something to do other than grill Tessa with the incessant questions rolling in my head.
But I did plan to pump the woman for as much information as I could while I was here. Knowledge could be a tool worth wielding when the time was right.
I took a long bath, sampling the fragrant soaps and little bottles of oils. When I emerged, I was feeling a little stronger and less likely to crumble into pieces. Tessa wrapped me in a fluffy robe before sitting me in front of the vanity where she went to work on my hair, combing out the tangles.
Red, puffy eyes stared back at me in the mirror. The tears had dried up for the time being, but my nap had done little to erase the evidence of my crying.
She worked my long locks into a loose braid before holding out the dress. “He is waiting for you,” she informed me, her eyes glancing toward the door.
I nodded and slipped into the fabric that was like velvet on my skin. I couldn’t have been more comfortable than if I had been in only my bra and panties. The gown was formfitting, flattering, and far lighter than it should be. It had to be some sort of fae witchery. I ran a hand over the material and straightened my shoulders.
Tessa must have picked up on my distress or she felt pity for my situation. “Let me give you some advice. Keep your wits about you and absorb everything you can regarding life here in the castle. Your mortal heritage won’t get you far with the faes.”
I tried not to get defensive, but I couldn’t help but feel insulted, regardless that her warning might be wise. “Let’s get this over with,” I mumbled.
I didn’t want to like Tessa, but her easy demeanor made it hard not to.
She ushered me past numerous guards and long corridors until we came to the dining hall, where she delivered me to my uncle who was sipping from a goblet. His eyes lifted to mine from across the room and watched with faint amusement as Tessa more or less dragged me to an empty seat at the table.
“So nice of you to join us,” Ryker greeted with a hint of impatience from his place at the head of the table. He lounged carefree in the high-backed chair. He looked like a high lord presiding over his court.
A woman with long silver hair sat on his right. She wore a gown made of starlight silk that hugged her every curve. Her fae status was worthy of a princess as were the jewels woven into her hair—sapphires I realized. They looked like twinkling stars. She gave me a friendly smile when my eyes passed over her, so unlike the malice I’d anticipated.
“Like I had a choice,” I shot back, my gaze returning to Ryker. I grabbed the ends of my dress and hauled them under the table as I sat, keeping my chin raised.
A deep cough sounded to cover the chuckle I heard underneath it. My eyes swung to the culprit: a young man about my age with Ryker’s golden eyes and tan skin, but his messy hair was silver, an almost identical shade to the woman beside him.
“Did I say something funny?” I asked him dryly, not caring who he was.
“And here I thought life at court was going to be dull this summer,” he replied with a roguish wink.
Great. A royal flirt.
“My wife Isleen and my son, Bash,” Ryker introduced his family.
So a royal brat and a shameless flirt. Even better.
“We’re honored to have you in our home,” Isleen said in a light voice that seemed effortless and musical to the ear. “I know our customs must seem unorthodox to you, but I hope you come to appreciate life at our court. I would love to show you the gardens. Perhaps tomorrow?”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “Sure.”
“And Bash, you will join us,” she extended to her son as more of an order than a request.
“It would be a pleasure, cousin,” Bash purred with a feline tone. “I’ve been eager to meet a mortal.”
They all seemed to forget so easily that I was also half fae, focusing on my human heritage instead. A deliberate dig, no doubt.
The fae on my left, whom I’d wholly forgotten, leaned over so his breath warmed my ear as he whispered, “Ignore Bash. I do.”
There was something familiar about his deep timbre and even his scent that drifted to my nose. It tugged at my memory, and a chill scuttled down my spine. I turned my head toward the fae, finding him closer than I was comfortable with, but then I got my first look at him and my eyes widened. “Reilly?”
I blinked. It couldn’t really be him? Could it? This had to be a trick.
The dragon shifter smirked, the silver hoop in his lip winking at me. “Your highness,” he replied with a bow of his head. “We meet again.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. My magic zinged in response to the dragon shifter.
His whiskey-colored eyes held mine. “Your uncle thought it might be more comforting to see a friendly face.”
I recalled he had once mentioned that his family was from the mountains in Orangeoland, but so far, I had not seen the impressive mountains, only the ageless ocean and a glimpse of the city from afar. “Are you friendly?” I asked.
Those dimples I remembered popped out on his cheeks. “Only when I want to be.”
Ryker cleared his throat, and Reilly leaned back with a crooked grin on his lips. “Now that everyone has gotten acquainted, shall we eat?” my uncle said.
I was stupefied by Reilly’s presence. On the one hand, it was very nice to see a face I recognized, making me feel just a little less alone. But on the other hand, I couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was there an ulterior motive from Ryker for inviting Reilly here? Did they have some devious scheme in the works?
All I knew was that I could trust no one.
An array of food was spread along the table, and spices wafted in the air. Had the food been there when I sat down? I couldn’t remember.
My stomach rumbled rather embarrassingly loud. I was starving, but had no real desire to eat, despite how enticing the food was before me. Dishes were passed around in a civilized manner, and I piled my plate with potatoes, meat, sauce, and bread. The glass in front of me was already filled to the brim with what looked like red wine. I went straight for the drink before touching the food. Not the wisest choice to drink on an empty stomach, but I needed the liquid courage if I was going to get through this dinner without stabbing someone with my fork.
I glanced down at the silverware laid out alongside my plate to see I hadn’t been given a knife. Smart. But disappointment dipped in my belly. A fork would have to do in a pinch, not that I planned to shed blood … yet.
“You should eat something,” Reilly murmured with a frown. He kept his voice low, but with a table of faes, he might as well have screamed the words.
The alcohol hit me quick due to my empty stomach, giving me a dose of bravery and a looser tongue. I ignored Reilly and faced my uncle. “How long do you plan on keeping me locked up?”
Bash choked on his own wine, and Reilly stiffened beside me but recovered quickly by shoving food into his mouth.
Ryker shot me a warning look. “You are not a prisoner.”
I raised a brow, deliberately forking a piece of something like chicken smothered in gravy to appease Reilly. “Really? The sentinels and lock on my door say otherwise,” I challenged.