A fter being dragged up what feels like a thousand steps, my body finally gives up. My thigh muscles are on fire, each step sending a dull ache up my spine.My knees threaten to buckle, my shoulders scream from the chains digging into my wrists, and my lungs burn like I’ve inhaled smoke. But I don’t get the satisfaction of collapsing. A shove by a massive guard sends me hurtling forward. The moment my knees slam into the cold, polished wood floor, pain shoots up my ankles.
A growl rips from my throat as I glare over my shoulder at the bull-headed asshole who shoved me. “Bastard.”
He grins, showing two massive tusks, his nostrils flaring like he enjoys the scent of my suffering. “We’re not the only ones that stink, human.”
Then he slams the heavy wooden door shut, the sound booming like a cannon against the high walls. I flinch, the vibration rattling my bones. The echo lingers, a cruel reminder that I’m alone.
I shift and hiss as the metal shackles bite into my raw waist, the skin chafed.
I scan the room; there is a single window. It’s pitch-black outside except for the eclipse of the moons. There are no clouds, only millions of tiny stars with no sign of dawn looming. The room is large. No damp walls. No stench of piss or rotting flesh. This isn’t a dungeon.
The room is beautiful. Black walls loom like shadows, but intricate gold foil accents gleam under the glow of the three eclipsing moons.
A massive four-poster bed sits in the center, draped in sheets darker than ink, so rich they shimmer like crushed velvet. The wardrobe near the far wall is just as dark, its gilded edges catching the silver moonlight from the narrow window.
It should feel luxurious. But all I feel is trapped.
My breath catches, my chest tightening as an image of Lox’s face flashes in my mind. His weathered face, kind eyes. His last words. “Try not to die.”
My fists clench, nails biting into my palms. The dark prince sent him to his death. And for what? For surviving? For helping me? How can a man so devastatingly beautiful be so cruel?And worse, hate his own
kind?I grit my teeth, the exhaustion turning into something sharp and cold when I barely make it to the bed, barely able to kick off my shoes. I groan in relief when my body meets the soft mattress, plush enough to swallow me whole.
The sheets smell like cedarwood and something faintly like spice. The moons shift behind the clouds, casting the walls to glimmer like crystals. My lips are chapped, feeling rough on the tip of my tongue, desperately wanting some water, but I’m so tired I can’t move.
My eyes grow fearfully heavy; only one thought lingers before the darkness takes me.
The dark prince promised he’d hurt me, but I’mdrowning in something far worse than pain.
Something cold and wet touches my lips. I shift, my breaths short, and the touch returns. It’s cool and featherlight. My lips part, instinctively seeking more relief. Sitting up with a sharp inhale, my mind scrambles; the last thing I remembered is being shackled, exhausted, and
filled with hatred.
A soft gasp escapes me. My eyes flutter open; behind my glasses, the blurred outline of a figure forms. A young woman stands at the foot of the bed, holding a cloth in one hand and a cup in the other. Her hair is a cascade of fiery red, glowing under the flickering sconces, and her moss green dress clings to her like ivy. She’s stunning. Perfect.
“Who are you?” My voice is gravelly, like I swallowed rocks.
She doesn’t flinch. Her mouth lifts into a smile, as if my reaction is predictable.
“My name is Nieve. I was sent here to make sure you were okay.”
I lift my shackled hands. “Does it look like I’m okay?” My voice drips with sarcasm, the skin of my wrists marred with angry welts.
She doesn’t falter. Her smile widens, as if what I said is no big deal.“I can help with that.”
She places the cup and cloth on the small table by the bed before lifting her delicate hand.
A black metal key materializes in the empty space above her palm, appearing as if the air itself willed it into existence.
Magic.
She tilts her head. “Here we are.”
My mouth opens, the questions fighting for dominance in my head, but I won’t argue. My wrists ache. My body screams. I hold out my bound hands.
The key slides into the lock with a soft click. The weight falls from my wrists like a huge burden has been lifted.
The metal clicks when she turns. “There we go.”
My shoulders sag in relief as she gently removes the heavy metal from my aching wrists, as if a huge weight has been lifted and I’m freed.
“That must feel better,” she says softly.
I nod. “Yes, thank you.”
She picks up the wet cloth and dips it into the cup. “You must be thirsty.” She presses it to my lips gently; the water seeps into the cracks of my chapped skin, cooling the burn. I’m confused as to why she is helping me.
The question slips out before I can stop it. “Why?”
She doesn’t pause. She continues to dab the damp cloth against my lips again, as if she is caring for an injured bird.
“I don’t understand,” I rasp. “I thought he was going to…”
Her amber gaze meets mine, and for the first time, her expression darkens. “Kill you?” she finishes for me.
I nod, gripping the cloth between my own fingers. My nails are broken and filthy compared to hers. She’s clean and doesn’t look like she is a prisoner or someone who could hurt me, but then again, she produced a key out of thin air.
“If he wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Why am I here?”
She hesitates; a flush creeps up her cheeks, the same color as her fiery hair, before she glances away. “Kainen is keeping you.”
“Kainen?”
“Sorry… I shouldn’t have… we only call him Kainen when…” she trails off and lowers her lashes, but I don’t miss the way her body shifts slightly.
The Dark Prince.
I shouldn’t be surprised. A man like that would never be with––I glance at her pointy ears––whoever he decides to sleep with.
“Why?” The word tastes bitter on my tongue. My guess is my chances of survival in this place are less than one percent.
She swallows. “My guess? He thinks whoever sent you will come looking for you.”
A sinking feeling settles in my gut.
“It’s unusual to see a human from Elariya in Nithya after so many years.”
Dread squeezes my throat. I clench the wet cloth in my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Lox’s face flashes through my mind. The way he warned me. They locked him away for fifteen years like an animal. Then, he killed him. I thought his guards were beasts—huge animals that could crush your skull with their fists.
“But the dark prince,” I press. “He’s human, right?”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Of course he’s human. Everyone knows that.”
“Then why does he hate his own kind?”
“Because after the war, any human or Elariyan that crossed the river was considered the enemy. The Gods cursed the two kingdoms, and for some, Nythia is considered the enemy andvice versa.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not from here.”
Her expression grows soft. “Where are you from?”
“A place where fairies and dragons don’t exist. Where I’m from, they’re myths. Stories.”
“Like in books or runes carved in stones?”
“Yes. You’re a fairy, right?”
She’s gorgeous. Delicate. Almost human if it weren’t for the color of her eyes and pointy ears. She reminds me of art I’ve seen online come to life.
“Nymph,” she corrects. “I’m what is called a Nymph.”
“Do Nymphs have wings?”
Her expression falls. “We used to have wings. Centuries ago, when Nymphs and Faeries mated, some of the offspring had wings depending on what trait was inherited.”
“What happened?”
She looks away, closes her eyes like she is remembering something awful. “When the war began,” she begins, “my people came to defend Elariya from the invasion. No one knew where they had come from, but they came—wyverns, dark shadows, and beasts killing everything and anything in their path. No one expected it. No one was prepared. Before, there was peace between our countries. There was no Elariya without Nythia. But when the king from Elariya died, and the royal family of Nythia was slaughtered…” She trails off when two large tears at the bottom of her lashes glisten like diamonds.
She takes a moment and blinks them away. “No one knew who to trust. The King of Elariya had two sons who never got along. One didn’t think the other was fit to take over the throne; the other hated his brother’s existence. He called him a traitor to the throne because he was born out of wedlock. His argument was his lineage—a mistake, a disgrace to the people of Elariya, and he should be banished. So, he fled, and the other, naturally, took the throne and crowned himself king. But it was too late; both kingdoms were ruined. Nythia burned to ash.” She shakes her head. “There was so much death. So much loss. Eventually, everyone took sides. They looked for hope, but faith was lost, and no one knew who to blame or why it happened. All that mattered was who was going to lead—to have power. So, the Gods intervened. They cursed Elariya and Nithia.”
“The dragons?” I ask, piecing everything together.
The Gods are dragons.
“Yes, they are the ones who granted the power and peace to coexist centuries ago. After the war, they cursed the land; they divided Elariya and Nithya by the same river that separated them, turning it crimson.”
“The river of blood.”
She nods, staring at her dainty fingers. “Blood divided them. So, the kingdoms were divided. No one can cross to either side, and if they do, they’re considered the enemy. If they make it, some don’t.”
Tired of hearing about death, I change the subject and ask, “So none of your kind have wings?”
I was curious as to why she was stuck here with the dark prince. I had so many questions but didn’t know how much to ask.
A sadness creeps into her amber eyes. Her eyebrows dip. “The curse,” she says softly. “It affected us all. We lost some of our magic, and the others fled, leaving us vulnerable. Nithya went dark. The curse caused the earth to turn black with ash and Elariya to an eternal winter.”
“Is there a way to break it?” I ask, for her sake more than mine.
She shakes her head and gives a half-shrug. “No one knows. We’re all just trying to survive.”
“Great, I woke up in a different world at war. To top it all off, siblings who hate each other.” I sigh, taking it all in. “I wonder what the other one is like?”
Her eyes widen in fear. “If Kainen is dark, his brother is cold. Kainen knows what it is to suffer, but his brother...” She trails off and shakes her head, as if he’s a coldhearted monster.
There’s a sudden knock that echoes in the room. I jolt, my heart lunging into my throat.
The door swings open, revealing a towering beast. Black fur, burly arms, gleaming horns. His crimson eyes land on me with undisguised hatred.
“She isn’t ready?” he growls, giving Nieve an accusing glare.
Nieve scrambles to her feet, panic bleeding into her movements. “I’m sorry. She’ll be right down.”
My eyes narrow. “The whole point of knocking is knowing when to come in.”
The beast turns to me slowly, his nostrils flaring, his lips pulling back over sharp teeth. “You’re lucky you still have a tongue, human.”
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “And you’re lucky I don’t throw up every time I smell you.”
Nieve sucks in a breath.
The beast's eyes glow a violent red. I should be scared, but I know he won’t do anything unless Kainen tells him to.
“You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I raise my chin. “I’ll be down when I’m ready. You can tell him I said that.”
The beast grunts and slams the door so hard the walls tremble.
Kainen wants to keep me. Fine. Let’s see if he regrets it.