Page 21

21

A PRISON OF FLESH

Darina

I chose you. I'd choose you again.

I replay those words in my mind over and over, analyzing them to death. I know he didn't lie. He can't. That doesn't mean he means he's glad to have mated me, though. He chose to save my life, and doesn't regret that choice. That's something.

And clearly, we enjoy each other. Maybe we'll make this work based off of that. Maybe more might come in time.

And maybe I'm completely deluded, but crying about it isn't going to fix anything.

As advised, I wait a few minutes, taking the time to compose myself. It galls me that we must hide like naughty teenagers. I've never been one for hiding, even in high school. That said, staying alive beats any other concern and the council made its dislike of our relationship plain.

The council chambers are on the same level as the queen's chambers, but in another wing of the castle. The fastest way to get back to my rooms would be across the main hall, through the heart of the brugh where, from the sound of it, the revel is still going strong. I opt to avoid the obvious route. Loch showed me the private passageway passing behind it all, through the walls. I'm about to push the painting behind which the entry door is hidden when a hand clamps around my mouth, and I'm dragged backward into the closest room.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck !

I don't have to turn and get a good look at him to know who would do this. Besides, I recognize his stench. He still uses too much perfume.

“Finally," Junis chuckles against my ear as I thrash to escape his hold. "It was no easy feat, getting you alone, Your Highness .”

The last word is said with so much humor.

Dammit. Of course he waited in the shadows for this opportunity. He wasn’t going to approach me when I’m surrounded by friends.

We'd hoped he ran off with his tail between his legs. After stripping him of his title for not showing up by tomorrow, we were going to offer a bounty to see him bring to justice.

I guess I should have remembered cornered animals tend to bite.

"Now let's get this out of the way first: you will not make a sound, you will not call for help in any way, and you will not move unless I tell you to."

After that, he lets go of my arms.

Each of his commands is a blow, weighing me down like a ton of bricks. Our stupid deal is still firmly in place, then. I try to take a step, just to be sure, and indeed, I'm stuck.

Not as much as I would have been last week—what feels like a lifetime ago. I manage to run my palms along my skin, the slightest little move.

"What's your true name?" he demands, after turning to sit on an armchair.

Because with it, he could command me, not just for the year he's claimed. Forever.

I'm so glad I am able to say, "I don't know."

I don't ever want to know it, now I’ve witnessed, first hand, how it can be used.

“Don't worry, pet. We'll find out."

I cringe.

"Crawl to me.”

Does this guy take lessons in the art of sounding like a rapey asshole or does he come by that skill naturally? He excels at it.

I comply of course. I have to for several reasons, chief amongst them the fact that my body is making me. I get on all four and start to crawl, hating it, remembering the way he…

He’s planning to do it again. Dishing humiliation before using me in the worst way.

We're in a drawing room, or perhaps a music room—I see a red grand piano to the side as I scan the area to try to find a way out of this mess I'm in.

I know one of them, Ryther, Loch, Rachel, Caenan or Relva—my small circle—will eventually come for me when I don't show in my rooms. They'll likely be too late. No one expects me anywhere for a while. I have to get out of this myself, somehow.

What did he say?

No sound. No calling for help. No moving—for now. After he tells me to, that's another story.

That leaves me a lot of room; and no wonder. I remember he likes a little fight. He thinks I'm still that mortalish thing who doesn't know how to defend herself other than with an occasional kick or slap he gets to punish me for.

By all logic, he's not entirely wrong. Caenan trained me—read, tortured me—for all of two days. That was mostly making me run, lift weights, and telling me how weak and puny I was. A couple of days of fairy gym class didn't change that.I'm not bad at fencing and archery, thanks to my high school clubs, but there are no weapons conveniently lying about here.

There is something else in me now, though. Something powerful. I know—I know —that I can kill him where he stands with nothing but a thought, maybe a flick of my wrist. It would be oh so easy. And the power running in my veins, pumping through my cold stone heart, demands it. Make him pay.

I want to, and it would also be incredibly dumb.

The lords of the court fear me because I have too much power, and I am too young, unused to their land,their rules, their customs—not to mention, bonded to one side. My life depends on convincing them that despite all that, I am trustworthy. I can rule fairly. I won't let my personal issues taint my decisions.

Junis is a personal issue. Everyone knows it. Therefore I cannot kill him. I just can't.

The plan was always to incapacitate him. One of the guys was going to bait him into a fight, or they'd catch him in the night and cut his tongue out—something to file his claws without it being tied to me.

If I kill him now, there will be an inquest. They'll ask how, they'll ask why. And the conclusion will be that I didn't like the hold he had on me, the hold that breaks none of their stupid rules, so I acted in my own self-interest.

I can kill Junis. It's just likely to be my downfall.

But how satisfying would it be? that thing inside me asks.

To be honest, the answer is very .

Still, I need an alternative. Another way to circumvent his commands and protect myself, because I am not letting him touch me again. Not ever.

My one protection against his voice was decidedly simple: a spell Ryther concocted and prepared in a flask, to temporarily take my hearing. And like an idiot, I left it in my day clothes. It should have been on me at all times, but my mind was on so many other things; Rachel, Loch, the council, the revel, tomorrow's coronation.

Dammit.

"I said crawl, my thrall."

Ew, he's just so gross.

It occurs to me then that he's allowed me to move. According to his own words, now he's told me I could, I can move however I like. The only two remaining orders are not to call for help or speak.

I'm happy to say I need to do neither.

As I start to get to my knees,my hand dig inside my pocket, finding the vial. Not the dark brownish liquid Ryther assured me would deafen me, unfortunately.

Something else, meant for a very different purpose.

"Carry this for your protection," Relva had whispered as she stuffed it into my hand before I entered the revel. " The boys will never think of it, but most women ought to, just in case. I gave one to your sister, too. If anyone tries anything, you chuck it at their face and run. Yes? "

I joked it was the fairy equivalent of pepper spray and took it gratefully, squeezing her hand for her kindness.

At first, I consider dosing him. Maybe it'll give me a few seconds, enough time to run. But as fast as I can, I bring it to my mouth and swallow its contents in one gulp.

“What is it? What did you just drink? Is it poison? Spit it out, you fool!”

I have to obey, to do my best to spit out.

Luckily, it’s too late.

His mouth is moving, dishing out order after order, but it's too late.

I drank the entire flask of liquid iron. And I can't help it, as it burns down my throat.

I scream.

I scream like my life depends on it.

And as thick blood drips down my lips, gold now, rather than black, I smile up at the monster.

"Oops. Sorry, master. I guess you'll have to think of a way to punish me. If you can manage to in the next fifteen seconds, that is."