Page 20 of Given to the Fae (The Dark Realms #3)

Finally, I hear the hum and then the roar of the Bridge and I'm surprised by the panic that rises in me. Wet and cold as I am, I had a vague notion that, even though I’ll likely be ill from the Breach travel and have to listen to those awful sounds in that dark corridor again, I would simply be able to will myself to endure it just to be out of the rain.

But when the portal actually opens, my stomach drops to my toes and I swallow hard as bile climbs my throat.

Locke urges his black stallion into the Breach, and the rest follow. I hunch over, clutching at the horse’s mane as we travel under the arch.

The whispers whirl around me first, and then there’s shouting echoing through the void. I can’t hear the words, but when we emerge into the next place, I can’t see it through streams of tears.

My stomach twists and rolls, but I don’t faint or retch, thankfully, mostly because I know that Warrior will take pleasure in any distress I endure, even if he hasn’t been the cause.

I hear one of them ask Warrior how I fare, and the cunt tells them I’m well. He urges his horse into a canter, taking the lead.

Once my tears have dried, I see no forests in this new world, and no towns either, just a road with meadows of long grass on either side as far as the eye can see. The sun isn’t shining, and in fact there are grey, rolling clouds covering the sky, but at least it isn’t raining.

No one speaks all day except for Warrior, who spends the hours telling me how ugly and useless I am, even more so than the rest of my kind.

He also quietly tells me about a slave girl his family owned once when he was much younger, going into great detail about all the many hateful things he did to her simply because he could.

His recounts turn my stomach, and I fervently hope that the poor girl is out of her misery. When I say as much, he laughs loudly.

The wind picks up as the day wears on, and, though my soaked wool dress dries a little, it’s still wet to the touch by the time Locke calls a halt in a small hollow that gives a bit of shelter from the elements.

Warrior gets down from the horse, and, though I hate him, I miss the heat his body provides when my teeth begin to immediately chatter.

He plucks me off his mount, setting me on the ground gingerly and I'm reminded that this fae, despite his nasty words and comments , is afraid of me . I’m still cold, but that thought warms something in me, at least.

The fae busy themselves with making a fire and Warrior buckles the collar from before around my neck. A rope is attached to it. He tethers me to a lone tree by the camp, ordering me to find whatever kindling I can for the fire.

I pick my way through the long grass and thick, cold mud to find dry pieces of wood and sticks.

There’s not much, though, and when I come back with my meager armful, Warrior takes it with a sneer and tells me I’m pathetic and so inadequate that no wonder Bere decided my only possible use was to be sold to the arenas for the pit winners to fuck me to death.

The reminder of my fate leaves me even more unsettled and anxious.

But, given nothing else to do, I can only huddle by the tree out of the wind, and think about what awaits me after I’m sold.

By the time Morgan comes to me with a bowl of stew and a piece of bread, I’ve worked myself into a state that I have to hide.

‘This is for you,’ he murmurs.

I take the bowl with shaky hands, both from cold and dread, and I don’t look at him.

He glances back at the others. Locke is staring at the flames seemingly lost in thought, Jak is counting out the supplies from their packs and Warrior is whittling a piece of wood, or bone.

‘I’m sorry.’

I don’t look up and I don’t say anything to him. If his apologies changed anything, perhaps they’d be more important to me.

‘If I could have stopped it, or changed Locke’s mind I would have.’ He hesitates and takes another look over his shoulder to ensure that no one is listening. ‘Locke has ordered that you be cared for by all of us, not just me, until we meet with Bere and the others in the First Circle.’

I nod and begin to eat, not because I’m hungry. I’m not. But I should try to keep my strength up.

Why? To last a few extra days in the pits?

I put the bowl down after the first spoonful, suddenly not wanting any more. What’s the point?

Morgan sighs and holds his hand out. I give it to him, and his fingers brush mine.

‘You’re frozen,’ he hisses. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

Now, I look up at him. ‘Say what?’ I ask.

‘That you were cold.’

I frown at him, not sure I understand. ‘Why?’ I mutter.

Instead of answering me, he reaches down and grasps the skirt of my dress.

His lips thin in anger. ‘The rain this morning?’

His voice is cold. Dangerous. I heard this tone when he spoke to the troll at the inn. He’s furious. He sounds like a master.

All I can do is nod and huddle closer to the tree, hoping he doesn’t hurt me badly because I know fate won’t stop him.

‘I’m sorry, my lord,’ I whisper, hoping my apology and the healer’s orders will be enough to avoid a beating.

His fury evaporates almost instantly and his brow furrows at my obvious reaction. He swears colorfully as he turns back to the fire and stalks away.

I let out a sigh of relief.

‘This is ridiculous,’ I hear him snarl low.

I watch him go to Locke and nudge his foot. When Bere’s second looks up, Morgan’s lips move, but I can’t hear what he says. Locke shakes his head and Morgan looks angry. He walks around Locke, purposefully stamping hard on his hand as he does.

Locke hisses in pain and sits up, scowling at Morgan.

I think he’s going to go after him, perhaps give him a lashing, but instead he looks at Jak and Warrior.

‘Jak. Warrior. Go do a little hunting, will you? We need meat for tomorrow, and you’re more likely to get something now that the sun has set.

Jak looks a bit confused but then shrugs. Warrior’s already up, clearly excited by the prospect of making another creature suffer at his hand.

When they leave, Locke gives it a little while before he gets up and saunters over to me.

I can’t help but look up at him in fear.

Perhaps I will be beaten after all. Or perhaps it’s time for him to release me again.

Why does my body heat at the thought?

He sighs, sinking down on his haunches, looking grim.

‘Are you going to put her by the fire, or not?’ Morgan snarls from behind me and I jump, my head turning to find that he’s snuck up from the other side of the tree.

My mouth opens in surprise. Put me by the fire?

Locke looks irritated, but he unlocks the collar and sets me free.

‘This place isn’t like a town. If you run here, girl, you’ll be eaten by some Dark Realm creature, or sucked into a bog,’ he warns me darkly. ‘Stay close.’

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself as I start to shiver anew in the wind.

Morgan ushers me to the fire and sits down across it from me.

‘Why didn’t you tell us you were wet?’ Locke asks, sounding annoyed.

They’re angry at me because I didn't let them know I was cold ? I shake my head and cast a look at Morgan. Why do they not understand? They’re flesh traders...aren’t they?

‘I’m a slave,’ I say slowly, as if they’re simple.

Both stare at me like I’m speaking in tongues.

‘Being cold doesn’t matter. Being warm doesn’t matter. Being hungry doesn’t matter,’ I say with a shrug. ‘If it isn’t going to kill me, it doesn’t matter. Not to masters.’

Morgan gives Locke a look I don’t understand.

‘So, Warrior simply rode with you all day and didn’t notice your shivering?’

I shrug. ‘He likely noticed, but he was wrapped in his oilskin. I wasn’t making him cold and wet, so why would he care? Why would you ?’

I sigh, trying to explain when they look at me as if I’m the oddity. ‘Does a horse or a cow tell you it’s cold? Would you care if it was so long as it wasn’t going to die and lose your coin?’

‘No,’ Locke says quietly.

‘It’s the same.’

Again a look passes between them, and Morgan looks frustrated.

‘Don’t do anything. It isn’t your place,’ Locke says cryptically to Morgan.

The giant’s eyes narrow. ‘Then whose is it?’

Locke doesn’t answer him. Instead, he gives me an assessing look. ‘I’ll give you a blanket and let you sleep by the fire.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘Tomorrow, you ride with Jak, not Warrior.’

I nod, trying not to look relieved, but he must see it because his lips tighten.

He doesn’t ask me anything else, though.

He sits back in his spot on the other side of the fire next to Morgan, and they begin to speak.

I strain my ears to listen to their conversation in case I hear anything useful.

Many of the masters assume humans are mostly deaf, I’ve heard, because other creatures’ hearing in the Dark Realms is so much better than ours, and it means that they frequently speak too loudly around us even when trying to keep secrets.

‘What are we going to do about...you know.’

Locke’s eyes are on me, and I pretend I can hear nothing.

‘Releasing, you mean?’

Morgan nods. ‘You can tell Warrior you did it while Jak and he were hunting tonight, but what about tomorrow morning? What about over the next fortnight? The cunt is like a dog with a bone and quite loyal to Bere after himself, at least at the moment. He will divulge all he learns about us, and he won’t hesitate to tell tales when we meet up again in the First Circle. ’

‘I know.’

Morgan makes a noise of anger. ‘I knew we might have to do these things but...after you were finished with her this morning. She was?—’