Page 20 of Blackwarden

Keres

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I’m Keres Blackwarden.

I’m the Gatekeeper, the guardian of the portal from the human world to the Unseelie Court.

Condemned for my family’s treasonous role in the war between the humans and Dark Fae and cursed for betraying the Hag Queen.

I wanted to tell Rosalin all of this, to give her the truth.

But I physically couldn’t. I was already paying the price for what I had attempted to tell her.

I cleaned the blood from my face, mesmerized as it danced like red ribbons through the water in the sink basin before dissipating.

I hadn’t been in this terrible of shape since I’d tried to break the curse when the first maiden was brought to me.

What little magic I currently possessed was decimated, along with my energy.

I stumbled out of the bathroom and over to my bed, dizzy and grasping at the post of the canopy in a desperate attempt to stop the world from spinning.

It was a wonder I’d managed to make it back to my room in the first place.

Sheer strength of will bid me put one foot in front of the other, until I wasn’t anywhere near her convoluted emotions.

I needed the distance. She’d been too close, all the conflicting feelings she’d been fighting since our argument were tearing me down.

I wasn’t sure how much more I could endure before I did something very stupid.

The brazier beside my bed faded to smoke.

“I know,” I said aloud, even though I was well aware The Gatehouse could hear my every thought. “It was stupid.”

I’d been connected to this place for so long, I could hardly remember what life was like without it eavesdropping.

I didn’t know where my magic ended, and the Gatehouse began.

In a way, Rosalin’s question as to whether I was part of the house had been an appropriate one to ask.

I loathed and loved how perceptive she could be.

I flopped heavily onto the bed and rolled to my back, gazing up at the canopy draped over me as the brazier on the other side of my bed snuffed out.

It was one thing to be cursed to drag human girls to the Unseelie Court every five years—it was entirely different when you couldn’t speak of it. The physical pain was torturous. I couldn’t answer her questions. I couldn’t lie. I was a prisoner trapped in a cage of Rosalin’s curiosity.

“She’s not going to stop asking.”

None of the other maidens bothered to look at the walls—to look around at anything.

To notice the fact that I dodged their questions with more questions.

None of them ever suspected a curse was involved.

They’d simply done their best to avoid me while staring at my wretchedly handsome face for the eight days they’d been in my home.

They accepted that some horrible archaic agreement between a vengeful Dark Fae and long dead humans was the reason for them being dragged to the Gatehouse.

Which was mostly true at least. They’d been satisfied enough with the explanation I gave them, wooed by my face and my words, just as they were supposed to be.

Until her .

She was still wooed. I could feel her desire, so strong it was disorienting.

She wanted me, almost as much as she wanted to know what was going on.

But it was more than lust. She wanted to anger me, to see the expression on my face change, to see me react.

She wanted to break me, and I could feel it wicking through my skin every time she stared at me.

And her wanting was so deliciously addictive.

The problem wasn’t her. It was me.

Because I wanted to answer all of her questions.

I wanted to tell her everything, to give her every last precious piece of history I could about the Gatehouse, the reasons she was here, the Hag Queen, the curse, me .

I wanted to talk with her all night and see the sun warm the sky in the morning.

I wanted to show her the gallery, my paintings, the legacy of this curse.

I wanted to get to know her, Rosalin Greene, the woman who wouldn’t stop asking fucking questions.

I’d never been interested in spending time with the maidens.

As far as I was concerned, they were all the same.

Scared, shallow humans, waiting to be saved by some knight in shining armor.

But not Rosalin. No, she would save herself.

The determination that dripped from her flesh was intoxicating.

There was no knight coming to save her, and she’d accepted as much the moment she saw me step from my shadows.

The temperature in the room plummeted, leaving my breath solid in the air. I tried to pull a blanket over myself, but I wasn’t strong enough as darkness crept over my vision.

“I just need a little more time,” I pleaded.

And I needed distance from her, because in truth, every time her inquisitive green eyes searched mine for answers, I loved it. And my soul would be shattered when I dragged her to the Unseelie Court where she would be destroyed by the Hag Queen’s harem.

I wanted her to ask me whatever questions her heart desired, and I wanted to answer those questions even more. I wanted her to sit with me in my dining room, glaring at me with her adorable anger. I wanted her to see me, all of me. I wanted her to break me over and over again.

I wanted her .

“Just a little more time,” I choked out, gasping in pain, my eyes rimmed with tears I hadn’t shed in centuries. “Please.”

The last brazier in my room went dark.