Page 11 of Hell Fae Captive

I followed, my heart in my throat.

What could my parents possibly have asked for at the price of my soul?

The Warden held open the door for me at the top of the stairs. “This is a communal area for food,” he explained, leading me down a hall into a wide-open space filled with tables. A row of kitchens sat near the back, each of them occupied with several fae.

Male guards were also stationed throughout the room, their gazes all falling to the Warden as we entered.

Silence filled the space, all the seated females looking at the Warden with a mixture of fear and awe. My brow furrowed at the clear reverence. Even the guards appeared respectful.

“We have all kinds of cuisine, including a human variety since you’re not the only Halfling in attendance,” the Warden said, ignoring them all. He spun on his heel with a click of his fingers. “Come along.”

I nearly growled at the dismissive way he said it, but chose to obey because I wanted a copy of the deal he’d referenced—the one he’d claimed was in my room.

Cutting through the kitchens, we exited out onto the streets again.

He showed me a library next, mentioning something about figments and suggesting I avoid them. A few giggles followed that announcement, startling me, but by the time I turned around, no one was there and the Warden was halfway out of the room.

I practically ran after him and half listened as he pointed out the different dormitories and eventually the challenge rings that he claimed I’d become better acquainted with later. “They used to be academic buildings. We’ve repurposed the space.”

“Was this some sort of university?”

“A Midnight Fae Academy for Quandary Bloods,” he replied. “A place to hide them during the recent power struggles.” He glanced at me. “Did you not read about that while researching the Midnight Fae?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Hmm.” He turned again, leading me back across the former academy grounds, pointing out more dangerous wildlife and plant life along the way. Another of thoseburning thwompssat stationary beside another building, a swarm of fiery gnats kissing the dead branches. “And definitely stay away from those. They bite.”

One flew into my face as though to tempt me into proving him wrong.

I didn’t, instead choosing to follow him up yet another set of marble stairs. The gothic architecture around this place seemed very keen on stone and dark arches. There was even a spire of this building that reminded me a bit of a princess tower from a storybook. Apart from the dark shadows and inky aura, anyway.

So maybe a castle for a horror novel where the princess died would be more appropriate.

“Your quarters will be in this building. Curfew is at fifteen hundred hours. Which, I suppose, as an American, is your version of three in the afternoon, yes?”

“Three p.m. is my curfew?”

“Yes, and breakfast is at midnight.”

“Midnight,” I repeated.

“Did I stutter?” he deadpanned.

“No, just,as an American, I’m used to eating breakfast at eight or nine in the morning.”

He smiled. “Well, your Americanisms do not apply here.”

“Of course not,” I drawled. “I doubt any of my preferences do.”

“Now you’re learning,” he replied, sounding pleased. “However, we will be serving food from your realm. Not because you’ve earned it, of course, but because some of us actually prefer it. Any true favors will have to be earned.”

I arched a brow. That sounded… ominous.

And sexual.

Alas, he didn’t elaborate.

“So you’ll eat breakfast at midnight, or you won’t eat at all. Lunch is at three on the dot, and your dinner is served at seven.” He glanced upward at the moon. “It’s constant night in this paradigm, but there should be a clock in your room. I suggest guarding it and your time appropriately.”