Savage Lands (Savage Lands #1)
Page 32
I had grown up seeing his likeness on statues, in paintings, and in fae society papers.
In person he was even more deadly handsome than claimed, and every bit the high fairy, with violet-blue eyes and sharp, chiseled features.
Killian, the leader of the Budapest fae, stood in front of me.
He had challenged the noble leader before him, the one who voted we part from the UN, and won. He was said to be so brutal and cruel, no one dared contest his seat since.
Tugging at the cuffs of his expensive dark suit, his eyes pierced me through the darkness. My lungs hitched; his power and looks forced me to step back. He was tall and built, with dark brown hair slicked back and a light scruff over his jaw. He appeared to be in his early thirties, but his aura held centuries of knowledge and experiences.
Beautiful. Elegant. Perfect.
And deadly.
Killian’s gaze found me, and I could have sworn his eyes widened for a second, but then I blinked, and it was gone. He again wore a composed mask of dominance.
“Warwick.” Like butter melting over a juicy steak, Killian’s voice was rich and smooth. “Glad we could finally make this deal. You made the right decision.”
“As if I had a choice,” Warwick spoke, my head snapping back to him. He stood near the front of the bike, his expression hard and angry, his jaw locking down.
“You could have turned her over to my men. Prevented all this fuss looking for you both.” Killian took a step, sliding his hand in his slacks. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten what was important, Farkas.” His gaze glided over me. “Or maybe your priorities changed.”
“Nothing’s changed.” Warwick’s hands rolled into balls. “Your men are imbeciles. I wanted this between you and me.”
“Took you three days to come to that conclusion?”
“I’m here now,” Warwick growled.
My head spun with their words, not able to take in what my gut already sensed.
“What’s going on?” My lungs clipped with fear, my gaze darting from Warwick to the fae ruler, then finally at the three men around Killian.
The three guards who had taken me to Halalhaz.
Sloane, Connor, and Vale.
Killian’s personal guards?
Sloane took a step toward me, and instantly my gaze went to Warwick with confusion. I didn’t understand. Why wasn’t he trying to get away? They wanted him too. He was an escaped convict as well.
Warwick stared at me, not a shred of emotion on his face.
“What’s going on?” I asked again, my feet retreating a few steps.
Warwick grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “I brought my part of the deal. Now where’s yours?”
Deal?
“I am a man of my word, Farkas. You should know by now.” Killian’s voice ran over my skin, cooling and soothing, making my shoulders want to ease back in relaxation. I fought against the instinct. That was what fae did. They used their powers to trick humans, to make us their prey.
Not me. Not ever.
“Deal? What deal?” My head swirled, trying so hard to grasp what was going on.
“His freedom for yours.” Killian lifted a brow, his gaze rolling over me like I was an insect.
“Wh-what?” I snapped to Warwick, daggers of pain knifing my chest.
“That wasn’t all of it.” Warwick sneered at Killian, a nerve in his jaw twitching. He was a wall, not one single emotion I could gather from him.
“I-I don’t understand.” My voice came out almost like I was begging. Hoping this was all a mistake. “Warwick…?”
Betrayed. I felt the word more than heard it in my head, wrapping around my throat and squeezing out all my hope and trust. My lungs deflated with disbelief.
“Why?” I croaked. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
His grip crunched down on my arm, his head twisting away from me.
“Warwick has been secretly working for me.” Killian tipped his head at him. “After he brutally hunted down, tortured, and murdered seven of my men, one of them being my right-hand man. We made a little deal, didn’t we?”
Warwick rolled his jaw, his lids lowering on the fae leader, but he didn’t refute this claim.
“Warwick?” I stared, trying to rip down the fortress he put between us, not wanting to believe it, while my stomach twisted with the truth. This didn’t make sense. Getting me out, Zander helping, and then turning me back over to Killian? This had all been a setup?
“It’s been a very fruitful relationship.”
“For you maybe,” Warwick grumbled, his nose wrinkling.
I felt I had been dunked in ice water until everything froze, keeping out reason and logic. “But…he was a prisoner.”
“He was. He was also the perfect spy.” Killian smiled at me, but his eyes went to Warwick. “Though he was not as communicative in the last couple of months. He was keeping a very big secret from me.” Killian’s attention locked on me like I was the reason. “I never thought a human woman could have such power over you.”
“She doesn’t.”
Killian’s eyebrows rose.
“She’s here, isn’t she?” Warwick snarled, yanking me with him, stepping closer. “Now, give me what I asked for, and I’ll be on my way.”
Killian dipped his head, his guards reacting, moving for me. Instinct drove my feet backward, trying to free myself from Warwick’s grip. His fingers squeezed harder, his voice only loud enough for me. “Kovacs—”
“Fuck you,” I snarled like a feral cat, thrashing against him. “I can’t believe you.”
Sloane, Vale, and Conner circled me, clasping down on my arms, but Warwick didn’t let go, his gaze still digging into mine as if he wanted to communicate something. I no longer gave a shit.
“Szétbasz az ideg!” The nerves are fucking me apart! The old Hungarian curse flew from my lips.
“Brexley…”
“Don’t you dare say my name. Baszd meg magad!” Go fuck yourself, I wailed, anger turning me wild and violent. “Get him off me!” I screamed at Vale, yanking at my arms like they were my saviors. “You vile piece of shit. Let me go.”
“Farkas,” Sloane said, his name sounding like an order.
Warwick lifted his chin, a deep growl shuddering the air. Sloane stepped up to him, his stature a little smaller than Warwick’s, but both were threatening and challenging.
It was a full beat before Warwick snarled and dropped my arm and stepped away. Vale and Connor took me, cuffing my arms behind my back. A sick sense of déjà vu filled me, choking me with misfortune.
“This ends my debt,” Warwick barked at Killian. “I’m free of you for good.”
“Sure.” Killian grinned smugly, picking up a large envelope off the seat. “And as I promised.”
Warwick stepped forward, grabbing it from him and opening it, peering in at the contents. He exhaled, his shoulders slouching in relief. Folding it into his pocket, he swung back for his bike, not even looking at me.
He got what he wanted and fucked off.
Anger. Hurt. Sadness. My soul felt sliced into pieces as I watched him walk away, grief burning the back of my eyes and throat. How could he do this? I had been so blind. A fool to trust…
Connor and Vale pushed me forward, forcing me into the back of the SUV, sitting on either side of me, guns primed, seeming to recall I was a little more dangerous than I appeared. Killian slipped into the passenger side, Sloane taking the driver’s seat.
The SUV squealed as we pulled away. I hadn’t even noticed where we were until now. The old abandoned commuter train station not too far from Leopold.
I had been so close to home once again. To my family. To freedom.
But that wasn’t what hurt the most. My gaze went outside the darkened windows. Warwick straddled the bike, ready to take off, his eyes on the back window like he could sense me, piercing the darkened glass and pinning me in place. His face was blank and defensive, but I swore I could feel raw emotion slam into me: Hatred. Anger.
Confusion. Guilt. Doubt.
But it disappeared as he started the bike. He circled us once before the bike tore off into the night, leaving me gutted.
Betrayed.
Alone.
Staring straight ahead, the fae castle in the distance, HDF glittering in the night like stars, I felt something shift inside me.
Whatever was ahead, whatever Killian had planned for me, I would come out alive.
Whatever it took, whatever I had to do, I would survive. Live.
Because right there, I made a promise to myself.
I would kill Warwick Farkas.
It was a promise I would not break.
I would become the very monster the House of Death created.
TO BE CONTINUED…
WILD LANDS BOOK 2
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About the Author
Stacey Marie Brown is a lover of hot fictional bad boys and sarcastic heroines who kick butt. She also enjoys books, travel, TV shows, hiking, writing, design, and archery. Stacey swears she is part gypsy, being lucky enough to live and travel all over the world.
She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts.
When she’s not writing she’s out hiking, spending time with friends, and traveling. She also volunteers helping animals and is eco-friendly. She feels all animals, people, and the environment should be treated kindly.
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Acknowledgements
Besides the Winterland Tales, which is more a fairytale retelling, this is my first PNR in 2 years. I’ve been terrified the entire time writing it, scared that it wouldn’t live up to the DCL Saga. It’s always hard starting a new series. Even though its set in the same world, it’s takes place in a different part, which required much world-building.
I fell in love with Brexley and Warwick and hope you guys will too. Hope you will give these new set of characters a chance!
Kiki & Colleen at Next Step P.R- Thank you for all your hard work! I love you ladies so much.
Jordan Rosenfeld at Write Livelihood - Every book is better because of you. I have your voice constantly in my head as I write.
Hollie “the editor”- Always wonderful, supportive, and a dream to work with.
Jay Aheer- So much beauty. I am in love with your work!
Judi Fennell at www.formatting4U.com- Always fast and always spot on!
To all the readers who have supported me: My gratitude is for all you do and how much you help indie authors out of the pure love of reading.
To all the indie/hybrid authors out there who inspire, challenge, support, and push me to be better: I love you!
And to anyone who has picked up an indie book and given an unknown author a chance. THANK YOU!