Page 17 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Melody

“Please don’t jump. Not even the Dark Lord himself would be able to breathe life into a rather unsavory mess of bones and flesh.”

I swivel on my heels toward the familiar voice, only to meet violet eyes, sparkling with dark amusement.

Riven stands there in the shadow in front of one of the large windows, clad in an elegant black tunic, one hand in his pocket, a whiskey tumbler in the other. “It’s good to see you woke up so quickly. Most sleep much longer after their first contact with magic,” he says. “Now you certainly want to tell me what exactly it is that you’re doing here at this late hour?”

I just look back at him. There’s no point in denying that I’ve been trying to escape.

He casually saunters closer, not once taking his eyes off me. It makes me feel like prey in front of a deadly, sleek predator. Reflexively, I draw back. I meet hard, cold stone pressing into my lower back.

Riven stops halfway to me, his gaze sweeping over me only once before it comes to rest at my neck. A frown enters his face. “Please… don’t. Let’s keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece. He will not be too pleased if you meet such an ignominious end.”

His expression has become serious, the teasing, dark amusement from just a moment ago, wiped off .

“You mean if his food tumbled to its death? Maybe that’s better than what awaits me here.” I can’t help my tone.

A muscle feathers in his jaw and for a moment his eyes lose their shine. “I’m serious,” he adds, dead stern.

“Oh, so am I,” I snap back. However nice he’s been to me, he’s also the one who brought me here. Maybe I’m being reckless because he is also dangerous. Underneath his elegant and well-mannered facade, a different kind of danger radiates from him like a pulse. A quieter kind, but lethal all the more.

A danger that made Lyrian break out in cold sweat. A danger that made Lyrian grovel on his knees with a snip of his fingers.

He cocks his head to the side. “I see. Do you know what we do to slaves who try to escape?” His voice has fallen to a quiet purr, more feline than human, the sound traveling down my body. “No? Nidaw didn’t tell you… she probably should have. But allow me to flesh it out for you. We flay them. Fifteen lashes. The first time.”

I stare at him, unable to move when he draws closer. He towers over me, as tall as the Dark Lord. My heart skips a beat before it starts to hammer.

“Please don’t tell him.” I’m not too proud to beg. I wouldn’t let myself beg Lyrian for mercy, but I would beg Riven.

“You want me to lie to the Dark Lord.” It’s not a question, but rather a statement. Mocking again. When I don’t answer, his full lips curl into something close to a smile. “You are too adorable. But you already know we can’t lie.”

They can’t lie —so it’s true what Lyrian said at his house. I stash the information for later. If there is a later.

“But you can withhold things, can’t you?” I’m not sure; it’s a stab in the dark. “I’ll give you something for it. Whatever you want,” I add quickly.

“Do you think you possess anything of interest to me?” His words sound pejorative and cruel, and I remember the way the Dark Lord looked at me in that dungeon. Disgusted, yet hungry.

I retreat out of instinct, or at least try to. Again, there’s the balustrade pushing against the small of my back and no escape. A breeze comes up and I smell him, a beguiling mixture of woods and moss and lilac. He’s so close I can see the black kohl under his eyes, the elegant curl of those absurdly long lashes, a touch of gold dust on his eyelids, on his cheeks, the diamonds and gemstones still dangling from his beautiful arched ears.

He doesn’t at all look like a vampire. Rather like an elven prince, save for the fangs that flash behind his lips when he smiles and the vicious gleam in his eyes. A predator playing with his food.

“My blood, maybe?” I force the words out. What else can he want? What else can I possibly give him?

I close my eyes when he lifts his hand. His fingertips trace the curve of my chin a moment later, the way he did in the woods, before he tilts my head back.

His words shape over my skin, gently, coaxingly, like a lover. “I can’t say I’m not tempted. I’m sure you taste rather... exquisite, Melody.”

At the sound of my name from his lips I open my eyes. His burn like lilac stars. My heart startles again and a flush creeps up my throat, heating my skin.

“But I must decline with this warning. Don’t offer your blood to anyone , ever.”

He pulls back, but his fingertips stay on my cheek. Yet there’s no jolt from his touch, so different from when the Dark Lord touched me. In that dungeon, my skin was electrified everywhere. To a point where it is painful. It rattled me, while this here... it terrifies me in a different way.

“Why?” I make my voice sound cold.

His fingers slide down my skin, brushing over the mark where the Dark Lord’s teeth buried themselves. I freeze at the touch, at the flicker that suddenly flares up at that very spot like a warning.

He says darkly, “Because it might be your death sentence. We are slaves to sanguine hunger and tremendous appetite. Only a few of us can master enough self-control to stop after a few sips. Besides, the Dark Lord most certainly won’t appreciate it if I sucked his property dry. Not when he has already marked you. ”

He laughs quietly as he suddenly pulls his hand back, as if all of this is somehow funny. But the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. “But I mean what I said—stay as far away as you can and be vigilant. The same goes for contracts with fae. Never enter into a bargain with a fae. And never make promises.”

I feel a twist in my belly. “Why not?”

“Because such bargains are the reasons mortals are stolen away. They always come with a sting in their tail. And promises will most likely be used against you, since no fae can break them once made.”

“But I’m no fae,” I say carefully, thinking about the promise I made to that siren Nidaw.

He narrows his eyes. “You’re half-fae,” he corrects me.

Half-fae. Again, that term. I don’t know what to say. What that means for me. What that means for my parents. If this is true, one of my parents must have been an elf. The fact that I know so little about any of it hits me hard, but I swallow it down for now.

“Well, whatever. I can lie, you know,” I add viciously, inclining my chin. Something I have over them. But the actual reason I’m giving my trump card away is that I need to know whether breaking my promise to Nidaw would indeed result in something unpleasant.

He angles his head as if he’s seen me in a new light. “My cheeky little pup, so full of surprises. I must confess I’ve never even entertained that possibility.”

I raise my brows. “No? Not even when I told you how good you look?” With that I try to slink past him, but he steps in my way, looking down at me.

“Maybe I was straight-out lying,” I add.

He licks his teeth, tilting his head, obviously annoyed. “You weren’t. ”

I just shrug. “Some say vanity is a weakness.”

He says, full teeth flashing, “It’s an indulgence, I grant you. Now tell me that you weren’t lying.” He grabs my wrist so fast I can’t follow. Wrenching me close. His eyes briefly rest on my lips, and it does something to me. The way they rove over my face then.

Keeping my voice light, I offer, “I could. We can make a bargain.”

He bares his teeth at me again and it takes a lot not to recoil. Not that he would let me.

“I hate to repeat myself, but I will for your sake. Bargains are off-limits, Melody. I mean that. Make as many promises as you like since you obviously can lie and it won’t have any consequences for you. But never, ever make a bargain.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m selling my soul, right?” I’m pushing him, I know I am. But I need to know more. If I’m stuck in this world, I must learn as much as I can about it.

He relents. “It is like selling a shard of your soul. You bind a part of you to someone else. You can be forced to do things you do not want to do. Such a contract only dies once its terms are fulfilled, or one party is dead. So believe me when I say, do not. Now, go and get some sleep.”

I notice the pain in his aura and wonder what kind of bargain he’d once struck. But I don’t dare ask.

He lets go of me and steps aside, but then adds like an afterthought, “And Melody—don’t get caught. Do not get yourself into trouble... please.”

I pause at the last word, only to walk away briskly. Too aware that I’ve just turned my back on him and not liking it at all.

But then I stop, halfway, turning back to him. “You promised to protect me.” My words are barely a whisper, but I know he heard every word.

I want to know whether he meant it, in the woods. Whether he indeed must hold to his promise.

Darkness sweeps over his face, but he dips his elegant chin once. A half-finished nod. “I did. But I can’t always be around. You will find your belongings in your room. I took the liberty of bringing them.”

One look at his boots and I know then. Know that he was the hooded figure who walked through that patio. Not a watchman, but him. A strange, new sensation coils through me at that. A different one .

He came to look after me.

Before he can see the flicker of emotion on my face, I turn and hurry back to my room.

***

I lie on my bed and watch the two moons for a very long time. Despite my exhaustion, sleep won’t come, so eventually I get up and go over to the black duffle bag sitting next to the bed like a foreign object. Like I myself, lost in another world.

I gingerly open it to find some of my old clothes and my paints and brushes, as well as some paper I managed to stuff in there. Everything has miraculously survived the sea water, and I wonder whether Riven put some kind of glamour on it, or whether the sea here just follows different laws. Either way, I’m grateful.

I take them over to my bed. There isn’t enough time to paint, and I don’t have any canvas anyway, so I start to draw Riven’s face.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I wake, a silvery sun gleams on the horizon, the desert land enshrouded by morning mist, and I’m lying curled up next to my drawing.