by Gwen Knight
Escaping wouldn’t be easy. They’d always know my location. Impossible to evade someone when they knew where you were. I’d need to find a way to remove it, and fast.
Of course…there were other ways.
My mind took a dark turn, my heart quickening as I pondered the possibility. I couldn’t wear the bracelet if I didn’t have a wrist. And the guards all carried swords. Magically enhanced blades. One quick blow. But even if I could escape severely injured, the blood trail alone would lead them right to me.
I had to think this through, but the idea remained, niggling at the back of my mind. Maybe it should have frightened me, but right now, I felt nothing beyond stark desperation.
With a long sigh, I flopped down onto the bed and rolled onto my side, hands tucked under my head. My bottom lip trembled as a fresh wave of tears threatened to overcome me. No. I couldn’t lose it now. Every time I felt a bubble of hysteria or panic, I started counting under my breath, focusing on the numbers instead of the overwhelming pain resting just beneath my breast.
I’d reached four thousand thirty-five when the sound of raised voices roused me from my delirium. They sounded close, near my cell.
I sat up, my cheeks warm and puffy. Someone gave a soft shout, then something slammed into my door. I gasped and scooted backward on the cot.
Another shout. Louder. Then a grunt.
A cold wedge of fear slid down my throat. What if Dask were out there? What if he’d decided it was best to get rid of me as well? Or Arik? Come to punish me more?
I pressed against the wall, my fingers gripping the stone wall as though that’d keep me safe. If it were Dask, it was unlikely he would be alone. Wherever he went, an entourage of guards followed. No way I’d be able to fight my way free.
Someone uttered a soft curse before sliding the key into my cell door. Panic had me jumping to my feet and rushing across the cell to the farthest wall.
The door swung open, metal scraping against stone, and light flooded in. I held up an arm, shielding myself against the blinding flames.
“What are you doing?” a familiar voice hissed. “Come on, let’s go!”
I blinked and lowered my arm, my pulse slowing at the sight of Oren. What the hell is he doing here?
“Did you hear me?” he demanded, braving one step inside my cell. “We need to go, now. Come on.”
“Where?” I demanded in a shaky voice.
“Do you really want to stand around talking?” He cussed under his breath and glanced over his shoulder. “Or do you want to get the hell out of here?”
Option number two, definitely. But I hardly trusted him. I didn’t trust any fae.
I followed his line of sight, wondering who waited around the corner. “Where’s Dask?”
“Hell if I know,” Oren snapped. “I didn’t exactly tell him about any of this.”
“Any of what?”
“Blessed winter, woman.” He whirled around and pinned me with a severe stare. “Are you seriously going to stand there and question me? If you want to escape, we need to move, now.”
Escape. The most beautiful word I’d ever heard. I shoved off the wall and bolted through the door. Oren stood on the other side, his face fierce as he eyed the fallen guard.
“I thought you were Dask,” I admitted.
He lifted his head, the firelight flickering in his cold green eyes. “Be grateful I’m not.”
I nodded, far more grateful than he’d ever understand. Oren was fae—it was only a matter of time before he betrayed me—but I’d take him over Dask any day. And if he could get me out of Osvea, I’d call it a win.
“Give me your arm.”
I stepped back. “What? Why?”
He snarled an intelligible response before snatching my arm. I struggled against him, pulling back with all my strength, but he held on tight.
“You done?” he demanded.
“What are you doing?”
“Just stand still,” he snapped. “We need to get that bracelet off.”
The moment the words left his mouth, I fell still. The bracelet. My pulse kicked into overdrive, urging my heart to take chase. Was it possible? Could he remove the bracelet? Could it be that simple?
“Why are you doing this?” I questioned. “Just answer me that one question.”
A flicker of emotion darkened Oren’s face. “My father’s dead.”
I blinked in surprise. “Arik…is dead? When? How?”
“None of that matters right now,” he hissed. “All that matters is getting that stupid bracelet off your wrist so we can get the hell out of here.”
“But…why? Why take me with you?”
He rolled his eyes, then turned his focus back to my bracelet. I watched in silent interest as he threaded our fingers together. It took every ounce of willpower not to pull away from him—an impulse I was sure he sensed. Without a word, he handed me the torch, then cupped my wrist with both hands.
Magic swelled up between us, brushing against my skin. Hope smothered the darkness within, and I watched as he traced a strange symbol over my wrist. The key, perhaps? The motions were too quick for me to memorize. A purposeful move, I was sure.
The bracelet popped open and fell to the ground.
An indelicate cry tore free of my throat as magic suffused my body. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I’d worn that bracelet since I was six years old. My magic had grown in leaps and bounds since then. Never before had I felt such a rush of unadulterated power flowing through my veins.
My head fell back, and I inhaled what felt like my first true breath in fourteen years.
The magic within me responded to my surroundings. I could sense Oren’s magic beating within him, knew I could take it from him. And for a brief moment, the darkness within me yearned for exactly that. So much power, the promise of freedom, and one less fae in the world. My magic almost had a mind of its own. Calling to me. Begging me to unleash it. To set it free and bring Osvea down around its knees.
“Breathe, Reaper,” Oren murmured.
For the first time ever, I felt power in that name. Reaper. To my people, I was a conduit. But to the fae, I was a monster. A demon capable of draining them dry. And after everything they’d done to me, it was tempting to become what they feared.
“It’s…almost too much,” I spoke through gritted teeth. Every nerve ending in my body had come alive. The feel of it—this was the first time in my entire life that I’d felt alive.
“It’ll pass,” Oren said. “Keep breathing.”
Except, I didn’t want it to pass. I wanted to wrap my power around me like a blanket and trust that it would always protect me. I could reap Oren, his brother, everyone in the castle, and they’d never know what hit them.
“Open your eyes, Keira.”
Keira. My name. That was who I was. A person. A witch.
“Come on. Open your eyes.”
His voice was a beacon. I latched onto it and used him to ground myself. My lashes fluttered against my cheeks until I found myself staring up at him.
A faint smile chased across his face, and he placed his hands on my face. “Breathe with me.”
Our chests rose and fell in tandem, and with every breath, I gained more control. At last, I released a steadying breath and nodded.
“Good.” His hands slid away from my cheeks, and he stepped back. “Now, we won’t have much time. Once the guard wakes, he’ll report to Dask. And my brother will use any means necessary to find us.”
I glanced down at the unconscious guard and contemplated our options.
There was one—one I didn’t like. But it was sure to fix this issue. One way to ensure he would never utter a word about what had happened down here.
I chewed the inside of my bottom lip and knelt down next to the guard. A small voice rose in the back of my head, begging me to walk away. But I couldn’t. What other choice was there? We couldn’t risk him waking and reporting everything to Dask.
“Keira?”
/> “It’s the only way.” I studied the guard’s face, then cupped his cheek and drew in a deep breath. His magic fluttered at my touch, the threads responding to my call. I could feel them rushing through his veins, giving him life. It was so innate now, compared to before when everything had been a struggle. The bracelet had hampered me so much. But now, my magic moved within me like air.
It took hardly a thought to grab hold of the first tendril. The moment I connected with it, the rest unravelled from his soul and rushed toward me.
This was what it meant to be their reaper.
I released a sharp breath, and my head fell forward as I became one with the guard’s magic, stealing every last tendril for my own. Only when I’d sucked him dry did I release him and sit back on my haunches.
The guard dropped back against the floor, his face pale with death.
Because I’d killed him.
That voice in my head cried out to me. Screamed that I shouldn’t have done this.
I squeezed shut my eyes and forced that presence back into the darkness. What choice did I have? Once the guard woke, he would have run to Dask and reported everything. Would have told him that Oren had freed me. We wouldn’t have made it two steps outside of Osvea.
I rose on shaky legs and smoothed down my cloak. Habit had me glancing at my wrist to see how much magic I’d reaped, only to find my arm bare.
I was free.
“We…need to go,” Oren commented.
I heard the hitch in his voice. The thread of fear. “If you’re afraid of me, maybe you shouldn’t have removed the bracelet.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he admitted.
I stared down at the guard, my heart heavy. “Neither did I.”
5
The Foundry was designed with the singular purpose of housing the humans. Though we opened our realm to them, we chose not to share our city. Osvea is our home, and we will defend our territory to the point of war. Many of the humans show gratitude for the creation of the Foundry, but there are some who cry mistreatment and prejudice. These are the ones we must watch with a keen eye. We will not tolerate rebellion here. And should they decide to rise up, we will strike them down like the dogs they are.
—Captain of the Guard Leith, in a letter to his ranks
“Wait,” Oren said at the top of the stairs. His fingers brushed the side of my arm, and a shudder slid down the back of my neck. “If this is going to work, we need to keep you out of sight.”
I glanced down the bustling corridor and lifted my brow. There were fae everywhere. Guards, nobles, commoners. Everywhere I looked, there was someone. “Easier said than done.”
Oren turned toward me, his eyes narrowed as he studied me. Whatever thoughts were running through his head, I would have bet any amount of atern I wasn’t going to like it.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I almost laughed. What kind of question was that? I didn’t trust any fae, and never would. They were nothing more than my captors and now the people who had murdered everyone I cared about. So what if Oren had broken me out of my cell? That meant little in the grand scheme of things. Especially since his efforts were a means of helping himself.
“All right, dumb question. Have you ever worn a glamour before?” he continued.
I shook my head. Any time I needed to hide, I resorted to non-magical methods.
He reached toward me, and I instinctively cringed away, pressing my back against the wall.
“I need you to work with me,” he whispered. “And I need to touch you to apply the glamour.”
Ugh. The thought of his touch twisted my stomach. The only time before this that the fae had laid hands on me was to punish me. But Oren was right. If we wanted to escape this place, I needed to blend in. And right now, I stood out.
“I can use a bit of my own atern to alter your appearance. Make you look fae.”
Bile crept up the back of my throat. “For how long?”
“It won’t be permanent, I assure you. I’ll remove the spell once we’re out of danger. Can you handle this?”
The wriggling pit of nerves in my stomach suggested otherwise, but he didn’t need to know that. And for my freedom, I would do anything. So, instead, I drew in a deep breath and nodded. I could do this. I would do this.
“Good. But for this to look real, you can’t shy away from me. You can’t cower or skirt around me. You’ll need to play the role of a noble fae. Besides, most women love to walk with me.”
“Not this woman,” I groused.
He blinked, his long, dark eyelashes fanning his bronzed skin. The stunned expression on his face almost made me laugh. Had my little comment somehow affected his confidence?
“Tell me now if you can’t do this.”
I bit my lip but nodded. No sly glances, no chiding comments, no shying away. I had to play the role of the doting noblewoman. “As long as I don’t need to drool on you, we’re good.”
Humor brightened his face. “Well, that certainly wouldn’t hurt matters any…”
“Forget it,” I growled. No way in hell would I fawn over a damn fae.
“I could always glamour you into a hound,” he offered. “Or my brother.”
Anger spiked within me. “And I could always rip the magic from your bloody skin.”
Another long blink. “Fair enough. We both know where we stand then.”
My eyes closed the moment he touched my cheek. I imagined Logan instead, his palm warm upon my face, his fingers soft as they stroked my skin. I recalled the feel of his lips brushing against mine, then the hard press of his mouth. A tingle spread through my body, one born of warmth and magic.
“Done,” Oren whispered.
I opened my eyes and gazed down the length of my body. Rich crimson folds inlaid with golden threads enveloped my body, forming a strapless gown far more dazzling than anything I would have ever worn. I held up my hands in front of me and studied my elegant fingers adorned with gemmed rings and the gilded bracelets dangling from my wrists. My arms were bare, though my skin glittered with a delicate sheen. All in all, it was a marvelous effect. Even to my eyes, I appeared fae.
“A little revealing, don’t you think? How am I supposed to keep warm in this?”
“Use your magic,” he murmured. “All part of living in Osvea.”
Yes, using magic for something wasteful was certainly customary here. Why wear a cloak when one could simply will herself warm?
“Ready?”
“As much as I’ll ever be,” I responded. I hated this. Hated looking like the fae, wearing their clothes, their jewelry, their atern bracelet. A necessary evil, though.
“Follow my lead. Try not to speak unless spoken to. And if someone asks you a question, make sure you smile when you answer. Be vague, but don’t arouse suspicions.”
All contradicting orders. For him, blending was as simple as walking down the corridor. But me? I needed to try and fit in. Something I’d never done before.
Without another word, Oren entered the hallway and gestured for me to follow.
My heart beat wildly against my ribs, but I reminded myself I wasn’t without my own protection. Oren had removed my bracelet. For the first time in my life, I was free. And if the worst came to pass, I could fall back on my magic. That was more than I’d ever had.
I released a slow breath, then stepped into the corridor next to him.
Not a single person glanced our way. So far, so good. If we could keep this up, we’d be out of the estate and on our way to freedom. I could almost smell the fresh, wintry air. Never before had it held such promise.
“I’m going to touch you now,” Oren whispered, his words breaking through my thoughts. “Don’t panic.”
Don’t panic. Good advice. Still, I twitched when our bodies came together. I had to do better than that. He took my arm and looped it through his, then rested his hand on top of mine.
I can do this. I just had to keep telling myself that. What wouldn’t I do to escape?
To be free of this life? And once we left this wretched city, I’d never look back. I’d live in the wilderness and survive off the land, exactly like Logan had suggested. Without that damned bracelet, I could do anything.
Swallowing my doubts, I leaned into him until our shoulders brushed, then glanced up at him with a fake smile. “Get me out of here.”
“As my lady wishes,” he commented with a soft wink.
He’d turned on the charm. Didn’t mean I had to fall for it, though.
We moved through the corridor as one, our bodies joined at the hips. Oren spoke low under his breath, words about the estate and how his father had worked tirelessly within these walls to keep the city functioning. He spoke of the different levels of guards and what we might see along the way, all in a calm and collected voice.
A show. His way of warning me about the upcoming challenges. From his words, I gleaned that we’d pass two guard stations, not that he believed they’d be a problem.
Every time I’d escaped the estate, I’d snuck out back exits, ones I knew were unguarded, like the kitchen. But Oren intended to walk us right out the estate’s front door. A realization that had my heart stuttering in my chest. If they figured us out, we were done for. Dask would strike us both down, especially once he learned that Oren had removed my bracelet. Something the guards would surely notice. Everyone in Faction Fourteen wore one. But whereas the bracelets for witches were more a tool to trap us, the ones for the fae were decorative. A sign of status. Much like the fake one encircling my wrist right this moment.
“Ah, Leith!” Oren’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I glanced up to find the guard captain striding toward us, his sword sheathed at his side, but threatening nonetheless. My fingers dug into Oren’s arm, my nails biting into his flesh. Play the role, I told myself. No noble woman would fear the captain.
“Lord Oren,” Leith responded. “I’ve been searching for you.”