Page 12 of Blackwarden

“Then this should be easy for you.” His voice seemed to wrap around me and pull me toward him, the tension I felt only a moment ago melting into smooth seduction.

And I hated that butterflies fluttered against my rib cage.

“The Hag Queen will expect you to hold on bended knee until she addresses you.” He flipped his hand, indicating I should step closer.

A flash of rage rippled through me. Did he expect me to demonstrate? “I don’t think I need to—”

“I don’t particularly care what you think you need , Ms. Greene. I want to know that you can curtsey and hold low.” He took a few torturously slow steps closer, his eyes blazing with frustration. “I’ve made time. Don’t waste it, for both our sakes.”

Too shocked to move, I stared at him, a pool of hot resentment soaking into the threads of fear that had woven through my insides. Then, as if compelled by my own stubbornness to prove him wrong, I dipped into the lowest curtsey I could and held it .

He smirked, cold and humorless, tipping his chin up to look down his nose at me.

And this is how we stayed for the longest moment of my life.

I hadn’t anticipated how long he’d expected me to remain in such a position.

When my legs started to shake from the strain, I wondered if he’d wait until I broke and rose before being addressed.

Sweat beaded across my forehead from my determination to prove I could do what he clearly thought I couldn’t.

I would prove him wrong. I had to. He finally turned and I straightened, nearly falling over from exhaustion.

“Adequate, at least,” he said, with a stain of humor to his voice.

“Adequate?” I took a step toward him on wobbly legs. “ Adequate? ”

He turned back to me faster than I’d anticipated, leaving his face inches from mine. The hint of white light in his eyes sent a shiver of warning down my spine.

“Adequate,” he repeated, over enunciating the T.

“She’s a queen, not a Magistrate. You don’t want to break out into a sweat on your first encounter.

” His eyes traveled from my face to my toes and back, as if appraising me for the first time.

He didn’t bother hiding his derision. “It was... adequate .”

Red-hot fury seared through me. I took a slow step back, balling my hands into fists.

It was the way he said it, the arrogance that colored every word.

Like the kind Keres I’d seen the previous day had been a lie.

I hated that I cared enough to be hurt, that part of me missed him.

Yet this Keres—the cold, arrogant one—was easier to be angry with.

I fled, not looking back, not caring how much of his precious time he’d spared to toy with me. I’d had enough of him and this place.

––––––––

By lunch I’d had time to cool down, but the last thing I wanted was to sit across from Keres again.

He was waiting in the dining room when I arrived, his frosty demeanor melted into a gentle smile.

He was like a different person entirely, it was jarring.

Perhaps he realized he’d pushed too hard.

That I wouldn’t be bullied, even by the likes of a Dark Fae.

Unlike the rest of our time together, he seemed curious about me and my life. But after breakfast’s instruction, I wasn’t sure I was interested in sharing anything with him. Besides, I was definitely not in the mood to talk about the past I was leaving behind forever.

“You’ve come in your sister’s place?”

It was hard not to fall for the tender curiosity in his voice, the friendly, open expression that lit his face. As much as I wished to ignore him, I abandoned my obstinance. I could be angry at myself for falling for his tricks later.

“I did, yes. She’s younger than I am and.

..” I hadn’t wanted to share with him that I was a widow, that my husband had been murdered by one of his brethren.

I was still nervous I’d broken some rule by not being the woman actually chosen.

I didn’t want to add the possible violation of having been married as well. “Her name is Renee.”

“Renee.” The way my sister’s name rolled off his tongue was languid and beautiful.

“I’m sorry I lied when I first came. I worried she’d be dragged here instead.

But I guess you’d probably like her better—she wouldn’t ask you so many questions.

” His eyebrows rose at this, and I continued babbling, unable to stop myself.

“She’s beautiful, compared to me, with golden hair. Delicate and feminine, and—”

“Perhaps I like your questions, Ms. Greene.”

I couldn’t hold the intensity of his gaze, instead I glanced down at the half-eaten contents of my plate.

Another roasted rabbit, so juicy and decadent I didn’t think I could ever get tired of it.

In an effort to change the subject, I tried to come up with a question I could ask him that wasn’t about his magic, the creepy mural, or anything related to the other maidens that had been here before me.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreadfully curious about him—someone who could go from being cold and arrogant to someone who seemed actually caring .

“Do you always live here?”

“The Gatehouse is my home, but I spend a significant amount of time in the Hag Queen’s court.”

I’d mistakenly thought he’d only need to be in the human realm long enough to acquire a sacrifice for the Queen. Now I wondered if there was a far greater responsibility to being the Gatekeeper.

“Are you the only Gatekeeper?”

“From the human world to the Unseelie Court, I am,” he said, his voice full of soft amusement. “And I’ve been the Gatekeeper for a considerable time.”

“And how long is considerable to you?”

He might have intended to answer but just stared at me instead before he glanced down at his plate. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he wrestled with whatever inner demon held his tongue. Silence stretched until I couldn’t look at him any longer, unsure if he’d ever answer. He cleared his throat.

“Tell me, Ms. Greene, how did you spend your days before coming here?”

“Before being dragged here, you mean?”

He smirked. “Semantics.”

I folded my arms, certain my frustration was plain on my face, but it didn’t seem to deter his intense gaze while he waited for an answer.

“I helped my parents with their farm.”

“That sounds like work. What did you do in your leisure time?”

“You act as though humans have all the leisure time in the world,” I snapped.

“And you seem to think Fae do nothing but participate in acts of cruelty.”

I took a sharp breath at how quickly he’d snapped back. My cheeks heated, and I dropped my hands into my lap below the table.

“What do you do in your leisure time then?” I asked, genuinely curious what a Dark Fae who was the Gatekeeper to the portal between the human world and the Unseelie Court could honestly find entertaining.

He smiled, resting his chin in his hand. “I believe I asked first, Ms. Greene.”

“Fine,” I said, glaring down at my wine glass. “I read, and sometimes I like to take my father’s horse for long rides, but seeing as how I’m not allowed to leave the Gatehouse, I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

“I have a library,” he said, before taking a sip of wine. “If you’d like, I can show you. You’d be welcome to spend time there, if you aren’t too terrified to leave your suite.”

I was instantly reminded of the room he’d escorted me to after carrying me from wherever the Gatehouse had trapped me. I hadn’t had a chance to look around before he’d taken me back to my rooms.

“I’d like that very much.”

For the first time since coming to this dark place, I was genuinely excited.

And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way his face brightened with a pleasant smile.

There was something so endearing in the way he dropped his eyes to his now-empty plate, which moments ago had been laden with what looked like the most delicious shepherd’s pie I’d ever seen.

He stood and with a smooth stride led the way, a kind calm settling over his face. He was a different Keres than I’d seen before. There was something genuine about this one that I wasn’t sure I liked. Mostly, because I could get used to him—dare I say, I could like him.

“I think you’ll love it,” he said, with an undeniable warmth to his voice. No seduction, no attempt to be something he wasn’t, just his true voice. It was like the first time he’d spoken as I stood cowering at the front doors of the Gatehouse and his voice had curled around me like a melody.

I tried to smother the shiver of longing that stirred in my blood and instead focused on the giddiness that washed over me as I followed him from the dining room.

A library was something I understood. Not magical food, grotesque murals, or unnaturally attractive Fae.

It was shelves of books and hopefully a comfortable place to sit that wasn’t my suite.

From the main hall we turned right instead of left and stopped in front of a door that hung open.

Daylight splashed onto the floor and mingled with the gentle glow of the braziers.

There was a freshness to the room that was immediately welcoming, and I hurried in, spinning in place like a little girl twirling in her best dress.

My cheeks immediately grew hot as I realized Keres was still by the door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He watched me with those dark eyes and a timid smirk.

I nearly ran to the window where I stood looking out at the strange black-leaved trees as they crowded against the sides of the Gatehouse.

It was impossible to see much else, but at least there was daylight streaming in.

I spun in place, walking back toward the center of the library and looked over the floor to ceiling shelves with wonder.

“This was where you brought me yesterday, wasn’t it.”

“The very same.”

“I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate it then.”

“The Gatehouse didn’t know I’d be bringing you then or it might have been a tad more welcoming.”

I paused, letting his words sink in. After testing the Gatehouse, I was coming to believe him when he spoke of his home as a sentient being. A tickle of unease at being completely surrounded by magic bloomed goosebumps down my arms. I rubbed them away, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you cold?” Keres moved like a wave over the shadows that oozed from the corners of the room. He swept an arm over his horns, wispy strands of darkness wove together until he held a black velvet cloak out to me. “Here.”

He didn’t wait for me to respond before he draped the cloak over my shoulders, stooping to fasten it in the front with a silver brooch shaped like a serpent.

His face was mere inches away from me. As he straightened his eyes slid to mine, a heavy intensity as he watched me.

I was too stunned by his closeness to tell him I wasn’t cold.

I was going to thank him but paused. Some tiny memory that I should never thank a Fae—should never owe them any favors—trapped my words behind my teeth. He stepped away, as if noticing how close he was, and back toward the door.

“I hope this satiates some of your curiosity for now,” he said, as he bowed and left without another word.

I was frozen in place, staring at the open door where he’d just passed through. He’d been so gentle, and then he was gone, like the shadows. It left me with nothing but more questions.