Page 3 of Brutal Fae King (Dark Faevea King #1)

I yank at my wrist, but the iron shackle is locked tight around it. I brace my foot against the wall and pull as hard as I can. A dull throbbing pain starts spreading up my arm from my hand. But I need to get out of here now! Maribelle needs me! She has to rest if she’s going to recover from the Weeping Fever, and if I’m not there to do things for her, she’ll have to go out into the cold!

Because she is going to recover—she has to!

She can’t… sh-she can’t… Not whilst I’m gone… Please!

Angry tears start rolling down my face as I yank hard on my metal binds.

“Oh, stop, please! ” A begging voice startles me. “You’ll break your hand!”

“I don’t care!” I snarl, tears still falling down my face. “I need to get back to my sister! She’s very sick!”

Another voice calls, much more bitter this time:

“That doesn’t matter now. You’re not getting out. None of us are.”

I stop tugging at it and look around. There are many other women in these cells, a few of them cowering, but the two who spoke to me are standing by the edge of their own cell. One of them looks worried, and the other is sneering—it’s easy to tell who is who.

“Who are you people?” I ask. “What is this place?”

They exchange a look.

“You mean you don’t know?” the worried one asks.

“How can you not know?” the sneering one adds.

I just stare at them both.

“You’re in Eyston Keep, dear,” the concerned one says.

“Eyston?” I ask. “Why did the raid take us to the royal city?”

“They always do,” the bitter one snarls. “They always take the kidnapped women here. How did you not know this?!”

I shrug moodily. My parents died before I was old enough to tell me about these kinds of horrors, and thanks to my outcast status in Thawallow, no one else would take the time to tell me. But I don’t want to tell them that.

“What are they going to do to us?” I ask. “I heard them say something about a witch?”

The women look between each other again. The sour-faced one gives a dry laugh. The nicer one just winces at me.

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“Wait. What does the witch mean?” I ask.

“No one knows,” the bitter one grunts. “But after they leave to go to the witch, they don’t come back.”

A harsh BANG makes me jump out of my skin.

“Quiet down in there!” a guard snarls.

I freeze, tingling from head to toe. There’s a small cluster of guards behind the one who spoke, and as the guard walks forward and unlocks the door to my cell, all of them walk in. They all gather around me and one of them grabs a wrist before the lead guard starts unlocking my shackles. As soon as I’m released, the ones holding my wrists drag me forward, and the others go behind me.

“What are you doing?!” I demand.

They start dragging me forward.

“You’re going to see the witch,” the lead guard grunts. “Now stand up and walk straight!”

I scream and shout, trying to stop them, but they drag me anyway.

The guards drag me to a corridor in the middle of the castle, and one of them darts forward to open a door. The door seems to open into swirling darkness, like it opens into the depths of space, and I scrape my heels against the floor to try and resist them.

“What is that?” I shout. “ What is that?!”

They don’t answer me. They just keep shoving me, pushing me into the room. The darkness envelopes me. I hear a door echo as it slams behind me.

My ears start washing. My eyes burn. The darkness is warm and smells like burning flowers. The air is warm, but it feels cold as it flows in and out of my mouth.

“Open your eyes.”

The voice is soft and feminine. I have to fight myself to open my eyes. In front of me is a ghostly figure, an extremely tall, thin woman. I feel like I can almost see through her, but the room I’m in is so dark I can barely tell. Her face is snow white, her black hair and black dress melding together at her shoulders. Her piercing ice blue stabs into my own eyes, but I keep her gaze. Then, the woman smiles slowly.

“Impressive,” she purrs.

“Impressive, how?” I ask.

“The king has his guards take many a human in to see me. Regardless, it has been a long time since a human has looked me in the eye,” she murmurs

She glides toward me—it’s like her legs move, but not enough to actually walk, yet she flows through the air toward me anyway. Once she gets close, she produces a small vial of something. It looks like liquid silver.

“Drink this,” the phantom woman says.

“Why should I?” I demand.

“The guards still wait outside,” she purrs. “They will kill you if you don’t.”

“And what will the liquid in the vial do?”

“Hopefully, nothing,” the woman replies.

She presses it into my hands, and I consider my options. Not only could those guards kill me, but I don’t doubt this woman could as well; she’s clearly… something else.

I put the vial to my lips and take a sip from it. I was expecting a metallic taste, but surprisingly, I just taste water.

“How was that?” she asks.

“I don’t taste anything,” I answer.

The woman then smiles wider.

“Then congratulations, My Queen,” she says.

“What?”

But she doesn’t answer me—instead, she waves a hand forward, and a thin beam of light forms a doorway in front of us both. With one flash, the doorway opens, and I see the corridor in the castle again. This time, the king stands there, staring in at us. His eyes are as dark as the black, thorny crown that sits on his head, his cloak blood red.

“She’s still alive?” he asks grimly.

“Yes,” the witch purrs behind me. “Not only is she alive… she is her. ”

I look between the witch and the king. The king lowers his chin, glaring at me.

“I see…” He answers.

There is a woosh behind me, and suddenly, a flurry of warm wind eases me out of the door, and the door slams behind me. I look around, and the door is gone. Then, I turn back, and the king is in front of me—just inches from my face. Those dark eyes seem endless, like a pair of black holes burning into me.

For a moment, he just stares at me—really into me—as if he can see right into my soul. It’s like I can feel this destructive energy rolling off him in waves, like he’d burn me if I touched him.

Every inch of him is sharp. Even his facial features have an edge to them—his harsh eyes, his strong jaw, his pointed nose, and pointed fae ears…

“Come,” he says suddenly. “We need to talk.”

His hand grabs me by my upper arm. He’s so strong. The king begins striding, pulling me behind him. He keeps dragging me behind him until we end up in a large room. My impression of the room is that it’s very red. Red carpets, red curtains, and red accents on most of the tapestries. There are golden elements in the room as well, but I mostly see a golden wood chair that the king drags me toward, thrusting me toward the chair.

“Sit down,” he orders.

I fall into the chair. The king leans down over me, right in my face. Again, I’m staring directly into his dark eyes again. He stares me down for a long moment. I’m not talking first—I just stare back.

“What are your plans with Faevea?” he demands after a second.

“W-what?” I reply.

He slams his hands down on the armrests of the chair. I yelp a little in shock. When he speaks again, he’s so close to my face that I can feel his warm breath fan across my mouth. I hang my head and stare at my lap.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he whispers in a husky tone. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?!” I squeak back defiantly. “Your insane guards kidnapped me!”

His thumb and forefinger grip my chin as he forces me to look at him.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he says. “If you do not want to tell me willingly, you are going to force me to use… other means to make you talk. You have one more chance to speak now—in a civilized manner.”

I sneer at him. He smirks.

“Spit at me all you want,” he says. “It won’t change anything.”

“I won’t spit at you again,” I growl. “You look like that’s what you want.”

The king breaks out into low chuckles.

“You’re entertaining,” he purrs, then leans close to my ear. “I’m going to miss that defiance when I break you. ”

A chill moves down my spine. He whips away from me, releasing my chin and stepping back. The king knocks on the door twice, and a cluster of guards walks in.

“That was your chance to speak civilly with me,” the king announces. “Remember that.”

He nods, and the guards move over to me.

This time, when I’m dragged to the dungeons, I walk with my head high, shooting a glare at the smirking king as I go.

***

When I’m thrown into the dungeons the second time, I’m taken to an area that has no one else in it. No other prisoners around.

Perhaps this is his first attempt to “break me”—separate me from everyone else we could talk to…

I’ll admit it’s tough to be entirely alone down here. I’m left alone with my thoughts, or rather, my worries about Maribelle. Time begins to blend into nothingness as I pace back and forth, only the ache in my feet telling me I’ve been doing it for a few hours.

Before long, I start murmuring to myself—just to break the silence:

“Mari… I’m coming back. I don’t know how, but I am coming back for you. I promise.”

“How are you planning on doing that?” a teasing voice asks.

I shriek and spin on my heel. There’s a man in my cell. He doesn’t look like a guard—he’s not wearing any dark, thorny armor like the rest of them; he’s showing a little more skin in casual wear. He smiles at me, a crooked, sexy grin paired with his very dark eyes. His long, silver blonde hair is pulled back tight to his head, and his large insect wings rest wide. His arms are folded. He is so muscular…

“Who are you?!” I gasp.

He stands from where he’s leaning and starts striding toward me, that same attractive smile on his face.

“Irikon. You’re pretty,” he purrs once he’s close to me. “Who would have thought you’d be so beautiful?”

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The man walks closer—close enough for me to feel the soft heat of his body on mine.

“I haven’t got a lot of time,” he purrs. “But you want to earn your freedom? You want to get home to your sister?”

He leans closer to me, and I feel his whispering breath against my ear.

“If you work with me, then you can earn your freedom,” he murmurs.

“W-what do you want me to do?”

He gives a low chuckle. He steps just a little closer, and I can just about feel his warm body touch mine.

“What I need you to do, I’ll let you know when the time comes,” he purrs. “What I want from you, though…”

His deep, throaty tones whisper into my ear. I shiver.

Then, there’s a crash nearby, and my head whips around. It’s the prison warden, carrying a bowl of something like gruel in his hand.

“Dinner!” the guard barks.

I look around. The man I was with has disappeared. There’s no change in my cell at all, like he was never here.

Well… except perhaps a small crater in the ground. But that could have always been there, right?