Page 39
Story: A Deal with the Shadow King
I wrangle my hands, my fingers cold and numb, and gasp when the Shadow King himself steps out of the darkened glass. The bite of his power tickles all over.
One slides backward in an awkward bow, creating a bit more space between us. “Your Highness.” The word irks his tongue, and I catch a hint of defiance in his voice.
The king’s golden mask shines under the light of the candles, his reflection only visible in the mirror to my right. Fae must absorb more light than mortals, but it’s creepy to say the least.
One passes me a piece of parchment. “You must recite this vow to advance to the next phase.”
“I—” I skim the elegant script. “It won’t make me lose the bet, right?” I sneak a glance at the quiet king.
“No.”
His cold response burrows in every crevice of my being, and I shudder under his scrutiny.
He can talk…
One inclines his head. “But from now on, the details of your visits to Faerie will be strictly confidential. The magic will bind you to your word. No enchantment needed.”
Sweat gathers on my palms and sticks to the parchment as I read and recite the vow. “I, Penelope Emanuelle Darcy, promise your secrets will wither on my tongue and dry on my quill. I shall never betray the customs of your court to outsiders or try to bring an end to your reign. My word binds me for life, Shadow King, for if I break my promise, all that I am—flesh, blood, and bones—will be surrendered to you. Damian Morpheus Sombra, I ask you to open my eyes.”
One’s lips tremble as I reach the end, and he takes another step backward.
The king extends his gloved hand. “Your eyes shall be open.” The hooded monarch leads me to the edge of the pool where five rock steps sink inside the water.
One walks to the opposite side. “These liquid shadows will crystallize your commitment to our court. Your mask will allow you to walk through glass. As long as you wear it, the nightmares that prowl the in-between won’t be able to track you through the sceawere.”
I crouch down and skim the surface with my fingers, not sure I want to go in there, but the shadows are warm and inviting. The thought of having a mask and being on equal terms with everyone else…
“Strip,” the king says, the harsh command reeking of privilege and cruelty.
I stand up stiff. “Excuse me?”
“Maybe—” One starts.
The rest of the sentence dies on his lips as the king angles his face to him, and the scene freezes like it did the night of the feast. I can’t move, only watch, as the king leans into my ear. “I won’t ask again.”
After a few endless seconds, One angles his face to the ground.
Hot saliva burns my throat, but the imperious desire to obey the king is undeniable. Unable to resist, I slide my pants down my legs and wrangle the long-sleeved shirt past my head. My long braid gets entangled in the fabric, and I slide it out of the way, my hands shaking.
The sheer stretchy black lace that counts as underwear in Faerie feathers to the ground without a sound, thickening the silence.
Tears sting my eyes. I knew it was coming. I just let myself forget where I was and why. Dread simmers in my mouth as I stand stock-still in front of the two men with nothing but my pain to shield me from their metallic gazes.
The king pries off one glove and grazes the length of my spine with the back of his hand. I hold my breath when he reaches my backside and follows its curve all the way to my thigh.
I shall not give in.
I shall not flee.
I shall endure.
“You’re a real beauty.” The fiend doubles back to my front and climbs my ribs one at a time with spider fingers, all the way up to my right breast. My nipples are hard as stone from the cold and the drugging fear in my blood.
Bile rises to my mouth. “I will never bed you.”
The Shadow King laughs like my humiliation is a never-ending source of entertainment. “Never is such a big word. So final.”
Despite it all, a sweet pressure builds in my belly at the fierce sight in front of me. One looks ready to lunge at the king, his back hunched, and the balls of his feet grounded. Even though he’s standing on the opposite side of the pool, I have no doubt he’d make it in one jump.
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