Page 6 of Courting the Fae Captain (Romancing the Realms #4)

‘Precious little is recorded on the Waifling. These vicious creatures hunt in packs and live in dark, quiet locales. It is said they are blind, though I wouldn’t test the theory.’

Hunters of Mithria: Volume I

D arkness. Impenetrable darkness and a cold, hard floor greeted me as I came to.

As was becoming all too common lately, my head throbbed, rattling my skull as I slowly sat up.

The faintest aroma of smelling salts still lingered in my nose, the hairs in my nostrils all but burnt after those thugs had knocked me out.

At least the servant had been polite enough to ask how the journey was. What a lovely gentlemale .

My lungs swelled as I inhaled deeply. The air was musty and dank, like someone had closed the door on this place and never looked back.

My knees wobbled as I reached out, bracing myself against a stone wall.

Cobwebs clung to the callouses on my skin and wrapped around fingertips, forming gloves of dirt and dust. The grooves in the stone beneath my palm were somehow reassuring.

Every line and indent, every crack, was an ode to the brokenness in my heart.

Because I was here, in this dark orifice of hell, instead of sailing the seas to a wider world beyond this nightmare continent and its warmongering Fae.

A piercing shriek echoed off the walls, causing the hairs on my neck to stand on end.

Goosebumps prickled my skin as every nerve jumped to attention.

Another scream followed, this one farther away.

It wasn’t a stupid prank or a playful initiation.

It had to be the Rite. Silly me, thinking we’d start small by trying to woo the captain.

But nope. Those screams weren’t the good kind .

Panic flared as self-doubt crept in thick and fast. I wasn’t just fighting for the captain’s hand; I was fighting for my life.

The revelation was incredibly stupid, given my circumstances.

I’d been so fixated on where the losing females were taken once the competition ended that I hadn’t considered how they might be transported.

Dark Fae didn’t do body bags or coffins.

We burned our dead to protect our souls from Bone Weavers who might reanimate our corpses, or worse still, the aimless —creatures desperate for even a lick of magic.

Having our magic consumed by those things was not a fate I would wish on anyone, and certainly not something I’d like to be on the receiving end of, even if I wasn’t alive to feel it.

Gods only knew what it meant for a dead one’s soul in the afterlife.

A shiver slithered down my spine before the discomfort coiled around my gut and constricted, leaving me slightly breathless. I was so woefully unprepared for this and, for once, it wasn’t a comfort to know there were others in my position. Not when lives were at stake.

I needed to move. Whatever the circumstances, I was alive, and I damn well liked my body in one piece and breathing.

Gritting my teeth, I held my hands out, edging around the room for any hint of furniture or something I could use as a weapon.

Nothing. A growl of frustration escaped my lips.

Okay. Breathe. What would Avadir do? He’d tell me a weapon was an extension of myself.

That I was the real weapon . And, fair, I wasn’t entirely without skills.

He’d probably also tell me to pull my finger out and fucking move , which was entirely valid.

I pulled a couple of pins from my hair and ran a finger along their edges. Sharp, but they would only serve so well if a real threat approached. My muscles were stiff, my jaw locked, so I rolled my neck and loosened my bones, shaking myself out like a dog.

“You’ve got this.”

The wall was my constant companion as I brushed one palm along the cold stone.

If the room they’d dumped me in was bare, I’d hazard a guess that the underbelly of this place was much the same everywhere.

Some kind of prison or maze, if the unending passages were anything to go by.

I just had to keep the wall on my left and keep fucking moving.

Eventually, I’d make my way out … unless someone or something found me first. I pushed the thought away and continued moving.

Soft, Fae lights flickered on suddenly, lighting up the path every ten metres or so. The green light was so dim, I could barely see several feet in front of me, but it was better than the pitch black of before.

I kicked off the pathetic slippers I’d been ordered to wear.

I’d be much more comfortable barefoot and quiet.

Not that my flowing chiffon gown made that easy.

All was still, not a sound to be heard within the dark depths but for the gentle whisper of my dress along the ground.

I rolled my eyes suddenly at the irony. I was so glad my father had the maids buff my skin raw, style my long blonde hair to coiling perfection and puff the ever-living hell out of my face with powder for this.

I huffed. Bastard probably knew this was coming and had a little laugh with the other soulless ghouls who ran this archaic tradition.

In the silence, I noticed the sound of another’s feet finding their way in the dark.

The steps increased in frequency and volume as their bearer ran frantically closer to where I stood.

I wanted to scream at them to stay quiet, to keep still, but the sound of heavier steps became clear behind the smaller ones.

Something large chased the girl, its claws intermittently scraping against stone.

A scream ruptured the silence moments after, as what sounded like two bodies collided.

My pulse raced as it died just as quickly as it began.

Something growled, and then a gurgling filled the air.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing against the stone to make myself small as I waited for what happened next.

The dark made it difficult and disorienting to know what was happening.

All I saw was the rush of a shadow, followed by a sound I could only describe as ripping .

I put a hand over my ears. It was all I could do to shut out the sound and swallow the whimper rising in my throat.

But I still heard the bones crunch and flesh tear.

This time, I did gag ever so slightly before I clamped my hands over my mouth.

The creature stopped its feast, followed by a slight rumble in its throat to inform me of its shifted attention and gradual approach.

Tears filled my eyes, my stomach clenching in fear.

I had no idea what it was or what it could be.

I had no idea how to defend against it or if I even stood a chance of fending it off.

But as the seconds passed and I remained standing, it led me to believe this thing was either blind or simply curious.

If it couldn’t see, then it would be able to track its prey another way.

Regardless, I was still royally fucked with no clue what to do or where to go.

Slowly, I slid down the wall, moving carefully in the opposite direction of the creature as it searched for me.

I took another painstaking step and was suddenly affronted by warmth pooling between my toes.

I realised I had crept to the dead female’s blood.

I put a searching hand out to check if she was alive, and was immediately sickened.

This thing had destroyed her so thoroughly, it felt like she was becoming one with this place, seeping into the very cracks in the floor.

An idea came to me as I considered how animals tracked prey.

The idea made me sick, and I wanted to cry as I carefully scooped her blood and smeared it over my face, my hair and my dress.

It wasn’t enough to completely mask my scent, but it might be enough to confuse it.

The heady scent of iron hit me, but I didn’t dare breathe as the creature sniffed and?—

Nothing happened.

Gods, it worked! The creature couldn’t find me.

I was no longer a breath of life to snuff out, but a mask of death it had already discarded.

A blooming decay of a freshly caught meal.

I felt its hot breath huff over my face, startling me with how close it was suddenly, and I clenched my nails together, forcing myself to become a living statue.

I refused to die down here, shredded into a forgotten tapestry of death.

It felt like an age, but eventually the thing snuffled and returned to gorging on the female. I waited, still and silent, until even the creature grew tired of its catch and sauntered off in search of other prey.

I remained still for minutes until I was certain it was gone.

When I was sure, a gasp shuddered out of me, then tears fell, hot and heavy.

My chest heaved, and my body trembled with shock and disgust. My cheeks were too warm, too taut, as if a blanket was suffocating me, like I couldn’t breathe as I wore the female’s blood as a second skin.

I didn’t know how long I stayed like that, too stricken to move.

I was horrified at the thought that there might be more than one creature.

Would this death paint work on another? I didn’t want to test it.

“Don’t give up. Not now,” a voice whispered in the darkness.

I flinched, raising my pins like little swords as I shifted into a crouch with my back against the wall. The shape of a body appeared, though I couldn’t make out her face. “Don’t come any closer,” I warned.

“If I wished to hurt you, I’d have done so already.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, if slightly amused. “I’m simply curious to hear how you survived that thing.”

“Morbidly,” I replied. “And I’m not sure 'simple’ applies to our current predicament, but you’re welcome to stick around and find out.”

She laughed a little awkwardly. “You’re feisty, for a lord’s daughter.”

I stiffened. “Says the female laughing after another was just brutally murdered.”