Page 8 of Brutal Fae King (Dark Faevea King #1)

“What do you mean she’s gone?!”

The guard in front of me can’t meet my eye. He’s hung his head, staring at the floor.

“You had ONE JOB to look after her!” I snarl. “ How did you let her get away?!”

“I-I do not know, Sire!” he stutters. “She may have used her powers on me! I remember nothing!”

I snarl to myself. My hand snaps out and backhands the guard across the face. He stumbles back, but I just turn and start searching throughout the castle. I spread my fingers, and my powers flow outward with them. I can sense them. All of them, their auras, as all of my guards wait, wander around, all on different floors of the castle.

Non-elemental magic is immensely useful that way. It’s the magic of auras, illusions… teleporting. Once I get to know someone, I can recognize their auras from everyone else’s, so I can sense Bruamin pottering around leisurely in the gardens outside, but I can’t tell one non-descript guard for another.

If she was walking around on a different floor, would I recognize her? Do I know her well enough? She felt unusual enough when I wasn’t attempting to read auras, but now I’m trying to find them.

This means that either I can’t recognize her amongst all the others, or… or she’s not there.

I start storming throughout the castle, searching every nook, every cranny, every inch of the castle for the lightest snippet of an unusual aura.

She can’t be gone! If she leaves this castle, then he’s going to take her!

He can’t take her! She’s mine!

The thought slithers into my mind, and it won’t leave.

She’s mine. She’s mine! She’s mine!

I can’t get her out of my mind. Those flinty, emerald eyes, staring at me with bone-shuddering defiance, the thick, glossy brown hair, the peasant dress with its crude stitching and the constant presence of dirt and other filths from chores—her beauty shone through it all. Then, the thought of her looking at me, the softer green eyes, the cheeks flushing rose pink, her warm fingers on my…

She’s mine. She can’t leave. She can’t be taken. I won’t allow it!

My thoughts return to him, but the constant thoughts of her start blending with thoughts of him. I see them in my mind. Him appearing, grabbing her—making her frightened, taking her as she screams and kicks.

No!

But then my thoughts change again, and I see him… and her…

Together.

I see the pair of them together. Her lips on him, and his hands on her. Unclothed, together, under the sheets, wrapping around each other, her sweet voice rising in—

No! She’s mine!

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, a glowing spot appears on my senses.

Her aura! It just… appeared?

How did she just disappear and then reappear?

Unless she… teleported?!

NO!

I break into a sprint, barreling my way through the castle toward her aura. As I sprint, my thoughts keep ticking on. But I can’t sense him. That’s weird.

At least, if he was teleporting her places, then I would have sensed him, at least for a moment. If he was carrying her, he’d have to teleport here himself, and I would have sensed him if I was looking in my aura senses like I am now.

So… did she teleport herself? Can she do that? It seems possible for the lost queen.

Before long, I turn a corner, and I see her. Just standing in the middle of the corridor, like she wasn’t supposed to be in the dungeons right now.

“You!” I snarl. “ What are you doing here?! How did you escape your cell?!”

She doesn’t answer. I storm even closer—and then catch her expression.

She… doesn’t look like herself. Her green eyes are wide, staring at nothing. Her usually rosy cheeks have gone pale. She holds herself as if she’s going to fall apart.

Something’s wrong. If she teleported, it doesn’t look as if she did it on purpose.

Oh, no. Did he figure out a way to teleport without me being able to sense it?! How would that be possible?!

I slow in my approach toward her. She doesn’t even notice me—her thousand-yard stare is affixed on the wall.

“Hey!” I snap.

The usurper flinches and then slowly turns to me. Her eyes are soft, albeit no less green. She still looks pale. In fact, she looks sick.

“Do you ail?” I ask.

“Oh…” She stutters eventually. “I-I…”

She falls to silence, and her gaze drops to the floor.

“What happened?” I can’t help but notice the softness in my own voice. I don’t know what it is, but the rage has just dribbled away.

I note it with surprise; it's been a while since that happened.

She looks up at me again. Those lovely green eyes also have a softness in them that I’m not familiar with.

“The witch…” She murmurs.

Ah. The relief is like cold water on a burn. Of course. that explains it. If she was inside the witch’s realm, I wouldn’t be able to sense her. If he was here, I would be able to sense him.

He wasn’t with her! He didn’t take her!

I could start laughing at the relief of it all, but she’s still looking at me with those large, soft eyes. Now that they’re looking right at me, I can truly see the depth of color…

“Did the witch ask you to see her?” I ask her.

She pauses and then nods at me.

Begrudgingly, I may be the king, but with witches being the liaisons between mortals and gods, there’s not much I can do to stop the witch from doing what she pleases. A witch is an important ally and a powerful enemy. They are not to be angered if you know what’s good for you.

“What did she say?” I ask. “Did she tell you the future?”

“And the past…” She answers quietly.

“What did she say?”

The usurper just stares at nothing for another minute. Whatever the witch said to her, it must have been realm-shatteringly awful. And this is the woman who didn’t flinch, who didn’t bat an eye at anything I could throw at her…

I’m burning with curiosity, but one look at her, and I can tell that no amount of screaming, torture, or anything else would get the truth out of her right now; she’s just locked down.

She couldn’t tell the truth if she tried. There’s no point asking her.

“Well, you left the dungeons,” I growl at her. “You don’t have permission to leave the dungeons. You are not to leave without anyone’s knowledge ever again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she murmurs quietly.

That’s all she says.

For a moment, I just keep looking at her. She still stands, head hung, eyes wide.

For a moment, we just hang in silence. I can feel the beaming gazes of all the guards looking at me. They’re expecting me to do something. There are a few things I feel like I want to do, but I have too many eyes on me.

I snap my hands forward and grab ahold of her arm.

“You’re going back to the dungeons,” I tell her. “Right now.”

She doesn’t answer. I look around to the guards.

“I want no followers!” I bark. “Leave us!”

They all bow their heads and move away from us with a tinge of haste. I watch them all disperse but then extend my powers to feel their auras, just to ensure that there are no eavesdroppers. There aren’t any.

Good. They ought to know what would happen if I caught them attempting to listen in on my private business.

I look back to the usurper. She finally seems to come back to herself a little, but those large green eyes shimmer in worry as she looks up at me.

It’s happened… she’s broken.

…I don’t like this. I don’t like her like this.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. “Was what the witch showed you truly that awful?”

Her eyebrows raise. She’s looking at me differently.

Is it because I’m talking to her differently? Or… does she know something?

But she answers me this time:

“I… It was awful to me,” she says. “It’s not important to most, but the fate of the kingdom… it hangs in the balance.”

“I know,” I answer. “The witch told me that, too.”

Her large green eyes start to water.

“I have to stay here… I’m never going to see my sister again!” She folds over and starts sobbing. “She’s probably dead from Weeping Fever by now, and I wasn’t there for her!”

It's odd. A lot of people have broken down into tears in front of me—under a myriad of circumstances, too.

But I was expecting such a fight to get her back into the dungeons, at least as much kicking and screaming as she did before. The fact that she’s just folded has taken me off guard. I… actually feel a little wretched watching her break down and cry.

She was an opponent I was trying to defeat. A strong, sharp woman who stood defiant against me in a way so few would. I liked that. I wanted to overcome this obstacle she’d become to me. It had become a game, a tantalizing little tease, and I was greatly anticipating how I would finally make her bow down to me.

But now… she has. She’s bowed, doubled over, sobbing in grief. It’s not entertaining anymore. This isn’t how I wanted it to end.

I’m silent for a moment. She just sobs. Eventually, all I can think to say is:

“I know that too. The witch told me that I would need to keep you here for the sake of the realm’s survival,” I answer. “That’s why you are here.”

She’s still weeping, but she gives a distinct nod.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Ebelor,” I say eventually.

She looks up at me, eyes balking.

“What is it?” I ask.

She seems to calm down a little, standing straight up again. Those eyes gain a little of their flintiness back.

“Nothing,” she says, a little strength entering back into her voice again. “I just… I didn’t even know you knew my name. I thought I was just another girl you’d taken, and you’d never made a note of it.”

“You were the one I was always looking for,” I answer without thinking, then realize how that sounds.

She looks away from me, but I’m recognizing her returning to herself.

I’m surprised by just how much relief floods around my body to see my mental sparring partner back to top form.

She looks back at me, wiping her eyes.

“I’ll be going back to the dungeons now,” she says. “I know that’s where you’ll be putting me anyway. Have guards follow me or don’t; we both know I can’t leave.”

I can’t fight the smirk that creeps across my face when I hear her speak back to me like that. She sends excited chills up me when she talks back to me like that.

She begins walking off and ends up pulling against my grip, still on her arm.

“Fine,” I answer her. “But I shall take you back myself.”

She just huffs, but I keep my grip on her as we walk together. I’m glad she’s more like herself again; I’m glad to have our game back in place.

Next time she bows, it will be because of me and nothing else. Nothing else will break her ever again. I’ll break them first.

I want her to bow, but I want it to be because of me. I want her to know it’s because of me. I want her bowed in front of me.

Then she’ll be mine, and she’ll know it.