Her father chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “Unfortunately, what you just said isn’t going to make him change his mind… This, uh, man doesn’t fall under the jurisdiction of any human court of law…”
“What the hell do you mean, Michael?” Elise’s mother snapped, frowning deeply. “Just break the contract—it’s not legal anyway.”
“I can’t…” Elise’s father said, trying to explain the situation carefully, as he felt the waves of threat rolling off the bodies of his daughter and ex-wife. “He’s not just some normal person…and, um, I’ve already accepted his dowry, so I can’t rescind the agreement.”
Upon hearing her father’s confession, Elise’s eyes turned glacial, her expression becoming as frosty as ice. For a moment, it almost seemed like she’d stopped breathing, while her gaze bore down on her father.
“What dowry?” she asked quietly, hot, angry tears prickling at her eyes. “And what do you mean he’s not…human?” she breathed hoarsely, her voice strangled.
Michael squirmed uncomfortably under his daughter’s penetrating gaze. He looked like he wanted to disappear in a poof of smoke like a magician after his final act on stage. But his ex-wife and Elise had him cornered against the wall.
“Well…um…I was certain he was the perfect man for you, sweety; and he told me in his culture a marriage proposal is sealed by the girl’s father accepting a dowry from the groom. So, he insisted I take the money…” Elise’s father trailed off.
“Is this what this whole damn thing is all about, Michael? Money?! It’s always the same thing when it comes to you! I don’t care what you promised this man, but you better return the money and fix this!” Elise’s mother exclaimed, ready to tear her ex-husband into small, bite-sized shreds.
“I can’t,” Elise’s father said awkwardly, cringing. “I’ve already spent the money…” He coughed uncomfortably, seeming slightly embarrassed and ashamed, then quickly looked away, avoiding both their gazes.
Elise’s fists trembled with barely restrained rage by her side, and she clenched her hands tighter until she could feel her nails digging into the skin of her palms. “So, you sold me…?” she stated in a hoarse whisper, her chin quivering, and her eyes rounding in absolute dismay.
Her disappointment in her father rose to new heights as he glanced down at his feet and nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
“I didn’t sell you sweety…I was looking out for you. Just look at you”—he gestured at her with an up and down motion of his hand—“you’re twenty-four already, with no boyfriend or any marriage prospects. It’s been two years since you last dated anyone, and it’s not like there are any other guys knocking at your door…”
Biting back a hiss, Elise felt her face flush a deep crimson red, livid at her father’s callous remarks. Her mother was too stunned to even reply.
“You have no right…!” Elise breathed, infuriated by her father’s words and feeling even more horrified by his actions. Since she’d been born, it seemed like a never-ending cycle of him turning up unexpectedly and ruining her life.
“Get out!” she bellowed, raising her voice suddenly.
“Huh?” Her father looked back at her, his face visibly mirroring his shock. “A-Are…are you kicking me out of the house?” he blurted, eyes widening in disbelief.
Elise pinched the bridge of her nose, barely restraining herself as she held onto the last shreds of her patience. She pointed a shaky finger at the door. “Yes. Get the hell out of here now! I never want to see you again—not for the rest of my life!” she snapped, and for the first time ever, Michael felt a splinter of fear piercing through his heart, frightened by his daughter’s reaction.
“Just, uh, try to sleep on it, honey…” he said. “You’ll realize what I’ve done is all in your best interest—”
“Scram!” Maria screeched, throwing her wooden spoon at his head, and Michael dodged to the left as the spoon narrowly missed its mark and hit the wall behind him.
Michael yelped, and threw Maria a startled look. For a split second, he felt a spark of stubbornness flare up inside him, and he wondered if he should stop and stand his ground and make a second attempt to talk some sense into these two irrational women! But Maria began to march towards him, looking like she wanted to slug him in the face, and that made up his mind.
Outnumbered, and being largely a coward, he decided to retreat and return back to fight another day. He swiftly backed away towards the kitchen door, not daring to turn his back to Elise and Maria until he was safely out of the room and inside the hallway.
A minute later, Elise heard the front door slam shut, and an instant after that, all the strength she was holding on to suddenly drained entirely from her body, and she collapsed back onto her chair. Her mother raced over to her.
“It’ll be alright, honey,” she said soothingly, wrapping Elise in a warm, comforting hug, as Elise broke out sobbing inside her mother’s arms. “We’ll figure something out. I don’t care who this man is; I won’t let some stranger come and take you away—no matter what your father’s agreed to!” She stroked Elise’s sandy blonde hair, trying to reassure her daughter, even as worry crinkled her brow.
But neither of them could have predicted how things would come to pass.
Unlike all her father’s previous shady deals, this one would end up demanding the highest price…
CHAPTER TWO
Callum paced back and forth across the stone floor of the commanding office at the eastern training garrison in Lumia, worry and unease clouding his eyes.
A cold gust of wind blew in from the open gap in the window, which had been left slightly ajar. Outside, he could see the tall, defensive walls of the garrison, rising up thick and solid against the clear blue of the wintry sky.
A messenger had arrived an hour earlier with an urgent missive. King Torin was in need of more warriors on the southern front, and the timeline to complete the training of the new cadets had now been shortened based on his instructions.
Eight weeks. That’s all Callum had left to get those green, scruffy recruits up to muster and ready to go into battle…real battle—not the mock scenarios they’d been training through for the past six months.
His brows furrowed into a deep line as he brooded over how to tackle this problem effectively and efficiently, and deliver the results expected of him by His Majesty. But that was not the only issue troubling his mind…
He was supposed to pick up his bride-to-be in three days time, but now…
Given the King’s decree, he had no time to delay. He would need to leave within the hour and get her himself. He would not have the time or luxury to settle her in like he’d originally planned…
He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. The situation wasn’t ideal, but there was no use wallowing in self-pity: Callum was a man of action—it’s what had kept him alive on the battlefield, and overanalyzing the situation like some academic scholar was not going to bear him any fruit.
He called for his personal attendant. “Gorchan!” He barked, stopping abruptly in his strides. A young, lanky lad of barely twenty-five winters came running through the open door and skidded to a halt in front of his master.
“Yes, my Lord,” he huffed out, slightly breathless as he bent his waist in a respectful bow.
“Prepare my steed; I must mount and be gone in the hour,” Callum issued the command with a careless toss of his hand.
Gorchan looked at his master in alarm. “Where are you going, my Lord? Do you have someone accompanying you, or should I summon a guard?”
“That will not be necessary, Gorchan,” Callum frowned. He was used to people obeying his orders without question, however Gorchan—who’d been assigned as his personal attendant for just over a year now—never seemed to conform to this expectation of his. It seemed an irksome trait of his personality Callum just couldn’t stamp out. But he was an excellent attendant—even Callum would be hard pressed to fault him; so Callum tolerated it…for th
e time being anyway.
“I will be riding alone. There’s a personal matter I must take care of.” He raised a hand to stall his attendant, as Gorchan opened his mouth, about to protest. “I will be perfectly safe, Gorchan. There is no need for you to worry or for anyone else to accompany me.”
Callum lowered his hand, then clasped both of them behind him. “Go now. There are things I need to attend to beforehand.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” Gorchan responded, bowing again before hurrying out of the room.
Callum turned away momentarily, muttering darkly to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose, anxious to be gone already. His muscles bunched, feeling the need to spur themselves into action, and get things done.
Crossing the room, he exited through the same door Gorchan had earlier, and with quick, powerful strides he passed through the main living quarters of the keep, then out through a heavy, wooden door to the cobblestoned pathway, which led to the other side of the garrison’s walls.
Spotting the entrance to the familiar tower, he leapt up the rough-hewn stairs, bounding up two steps at a time. He emerged at the top, sparing a quick glance around at the circular room surrounding the landing area, and walked out onto the battlements.
The wind picked up his hair, making the long, dark strands flutter like a banner behind him. Stalking over to the edge of the stone wall, he gripped the edge, peering out at the landscape below. On one side, his troops were working hard in the training fields, learning to fight and honing their killing and survival skills, while on the other, beyond the safety of their fortress, was an expanse of untamed wilderness.
Against the horizon, the snow-capped mountain ranges of the Estes rose up to meet the cold, blue sky, acting as a gatekeeper from those who would try to invade from the east. Its harsh environment and dangerous slopes the culprit of hundreds of deaths from unsuspecting travellers and explorers over the years.
Callum gripped the edge of the stone wall tighter, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he sucked in the sharp, wintry air. He exhaled, slow and deep, eyes opening with the rhythm of his breath.
His King needed him…the kingdom of Atria and its citizens needed him. He would not fail them—no matter what. Even if it meant putting aside his personal feelings in the meantime.
His thoughts flickered over to his would-be bride. This new life would be a shock to her system, he sympathized, but she would need to harden herself if she was going to survive being by his side. Being a soldier’s wife was never easy…perhaps a difficult beginning would enable her to adjust to the harsh reality much more quickly…
He shook his head, pulling away from the wall, turning to go back. He needed to see his Captain to relay the King’s message. Cassius would need to brief the drill instructors, and get all teachers and trainees up to speed before he returned with his bride.
He bounded back down the stairs, his footsteps sure and steady along the familiar path. Life at the eastern garrison was quickly about to change, and considerably. There was no time to lament about the past; ahead of them was a rocky future, and they needed to prepare themselves; he needed to ensure his troops would be ready to march on time.
Reaching the bottom, he stepped out of the doorframe of the tower, his ears picking up the familiar braying sound of horses in the distance in the direction of the stables. It reminded him his steed would be ready soon—and that his own life was about to change, in more ways than one…
CHAPTER THREE
The bus lurched to a stop beside the curb, and Elise thanked the driver before stepping off. As it bumbled away, she adjusted the straps of her tote bag against her shoulders so they wouldn’t slip off, and walked away down the street, towards her house.
It was six in the evening and the street was quiet, with no one else in sight. She hurried along, a strange, ominous feeling prickling along her skin, making her shiver slightly, despite the warm summer air.
Somewhere in the near distance, an owl hooted, and Elise bit her bottom lip, wondering if it was normal to hear these feathery creatures so early before the dark of night…
Distracted by her own thoughts, she must not have been paying attention to where she was going, because suddenly, a large shape pulled out in front, startling her, and a loud whinnying sound shot through the air as a massive, dark shadow cast itself over her and across the pavement.
She jumped back, crying out in alarm, frightened by the dark mass, and the next moment she found herself stumbling, feet tripping over each other, as she fell backwards onto her backside on the unforgiving, concrete footpath.
“Ouch!” she cried, wincing and squeezing her eyes shut. Pain from the sudden impact shot through her buttocks, and she rubbed the bruised flesh beneath her jeans, trying to ease the throbbing ache.
“What in the world…” she began, peeking up at the massive form standing still in front of her with an open eye.
In the next instant, her eyes snapped wide open, almost popping out, as she stared slack-jawed, bewildered by the frightening sight before her.
A tall, massive man sat atop a midnight black stallion, a fur cloak clasped around the base of his throat draping down his back to fall over the rump of his horse. Underneath the cloak, he was wearing a dark, navy tunic and loose breeches inserted into tall, leather boots. A long sword, sheathed, hung about his waist.
Elise gasped, scrambling back, trying to claw herself to her feet…all the while the penetrating gaze of his icy, blue eyes bore a hole through her skull and into her mind, imprinting themselves as a brand inside her memory.
She squealed in protest as she felt a big, muscular arm scooping her up by the waist and lifting her up off the ground. Shrieking in panic, a deep, gravelly voice attempted to shush her as she was pulled on top of the horse and into its saddle.
She jerked in her captor’s arms, flailing her limbs about as she tried to struggle free in her seat. The horse whinnied, tossing its head in protest at her movements, while strong arms encased her around the waist and chest, holding her tightly in place.
“Be still,” a deep voice rumbled, and her head snapped up to find a pair of stormy eyes staring back at her from a strong, chiselled face. The stranger’s dark countenance lightened slightly as her wild movements came to an abrupt halt. “I mean you no harm, my lady.”
“Who are you?” Elise blurted out, in no way reassured by the stranger’s claim. She was still trapped inside the arms of this big, burly man, and judging by the size of his bulging biceps, she bet he could easily crush the life out of her with a mere squeeze.
The stranger’s brow crinkled in surprise, softening his features for a brief moment, making him look less intimidating. But the moment soon passed as a scowl slammed down over his face. “Did your father not tell you?”
“Tell me what, exactly…?” Elise’s voice quivered, hard suspicion sinking in her gut. He couldn’t be…
His next words confirmed her most dreaded thoughts.
“I am Callum. Your husband,” the dark haired man stated, his lips pressing into a firm line. Elise gulped…it was just as she’d feared. How on earth had her father made friends with this beast of a man?
“Why are you silent? Do you have nothing to say?” Callum frowned, trying to pierce through her thoughts with his dark gaze.
Elise bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back a shudder, and Callum pulled her tighter against his body as he felt her shiver. “Are you cold?” he asked, his eyes carefully assessing her, looking over her body closely for signs of discomfort.
Elise blushed at his intimate inspection of her and leaned away, trying to get back the little distance she’d lost. “No, I’m not cold,” she responded slowly, her throat feeling dry, trying to work the sounds out of her mouth. “Has my dad not spoken to you?” she asked in a low voice, after taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.
“Spoken to me about what?” Callum asked, confusion marring his features. The small jagged scar along his left jawline stretched out as his
frown deepened.
Bartered to the Fae Lord Page 2