Page 21 of The Faebound Trials (Mates and Madness: The Phantom Prince and The Bloodweaver #1)

My eyes adjusted to the light peeking through the slivers of the curtain facing me.

I blinked a few times, wondering where I had been.

I felt the soft sheets underneath me and I breathed in the fresh scent surrounding me.

I felt warm and fuzzy until my head pounded.

Okay, what happened to me?

Groaning at the pain, I stilled, letting my body rest a bit more, eyes directed to the ceiling that reminded me of carved roots of a tree.

I recollected the last memories I had before I blacked out.

Silver looking at me with yearning in his eyes, Silver walking towards me never breaking eye contact, Silver asking me who had hurt me, Silver…

I should really stop naming him Silver.

But I didn’t know his name!

My mind drifted to the events of me sneezing and hyperventilating from the allergic reaction of the flowers I had landed on.

Shades of blue violet petals flashed in my mind.

Bonbell.

My heart raced at the thought.

Bonbell?

Was it the same flower that destroyed Enara? I mean, would destroy Enara in the future?

But the effect of Bonbell on humans was different in the future.

Bonbell Disease was also called the Drought. As in Drought of blood. That was how a person would look in the last stages of the disease.

In the early stages, their hands would turn violet black as if they were rotting slowly inside. Their teeth would fall out and their bones would become brittle, every movement they would make was incredibly painful inside.

Then their skin would turn dry and their eyes would turn red, and their tears would turn vermillion blood.

The mortals who had contracted the Bonbell Disease would’ve had their nails fall off their fingers. Their internal organs bruised and would turn hollow black, resembling coal.

By the time they were dead their bones would crush to a pulp, as if they were one with dust or mist. And the smell of their ashes would permeate the air.

It was a disease that targeted the blood but the damage was too much.

A horrific disease that changed the whole world.

Destroying powerful kingdoms and nations.

It was a disease I would never wish upon my enemies.

I slowly sat up and as if he was waiting, as if he knew, the door opened revealing the hauntingly beautiful fae I had ever seen.

His lips were curved sinfully, slippery.

His eyes were eerie and haunting, resembling a venomous snake hiding in the bush, waiting to attack.

His neck was now covered with symbols that resemble veins, as if the little details were blood flowing through it.

It also resembled roots as the sharp edges reminded me of a dead language. I couldn’t take my eyes off him even if I begged myself not to.

He was deviously handsome. His very presence commanded the room. His very presence made me want to submit to him—utterly, complete, whole.

“How are you feeling?”

I wanted to ask him about the symbols on his skin.

How did he get that? It didn’t look fresh, but it was the first time I had seen it.

“Don’t tell me you brought me to your room.” I decided not to ask him, I simply said it just to say something. I kept my curiosity to myself.

“You almost died and that was your first thought?”

He muttered unbelievable but I wasn’t quite sure if he actually did.

“I didn’t die. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” I said exasperatedly.

“What?”

I shrugged, not bothering to answer him.

But the way he looked at me made me feel hot—warm.

“I’m fine now. Am I not?”

His eyes darkened at my words, confusing me.

“Don’t ever treat your life as if it was nothing. Don’t show that kind of attitude to me.” His deep voice was laced with threat and danger.

“And who are you threatening? It’s my life. You don’t have a say in it.”

His jaw hardened at my rebuttal.

I let silence sit in the air. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see the expression on his face.

But the silence and the tension was thick. When I stole a glance, anger was evident in his beautiful features.

“Don’t.” A warning.

“Pardon?” sarcasm dripped in my tone. “Why do you care so much? You said we’re different. Why are you acting as if you were a lover of mine?”

That made him shut up.

I stood up and collected my things and left him standing in the room with his hands balled in a fist.

But he followed me. And I let him.

His presence was taller, broader, and larger behind me.

I heard his heavy footsteps trailing after me.

I found the room I was staying in. It was pure luck, pure hunch.

I opened the door leading to peace and quiet and immediately slammed it so he wouldn’t be able to follow me inside.

But that Silver devil was quick, he blocked the door using his feet.

He was so strong that he let himself in.

I couldn’t even fight back against his push. He was that strong.

I scowled when he looked around, his hands touching the things that were inside.

Until his eyes fell on the brown paper scattered on the table.

I didn’t realize I had left it spread out and messy like that.

But again, I was too late. He lifted the brown paper and placed it right before where the sunlight passes.

And he stared at it, his brows knitting in confusion as his eyes glimmered with curiosity.

“What kind of language is this? Is this something you invented yourself?”

He turned to me and his eyes gleamed with reverend admiration for my nonexistent brilliance.

“Too bad, I don’t think I’m that smart.”

“Then what language is this? I don’t recognize the letters.”

I snatched the paper from his firm hands and hid it in my pockets.

I would hide it later under my bed.

I noticed his sinewy forearms when he put his hand down.

I didn’t notice the veins in his arms before because he was always wearing sleeves covering his whole arms.

But then again, what shocked me was the ink continued down his forearm, maybe even covering it whole.

I was surprised. He didn’t seem like the type to have symbols on his skin.

But the idea of him naked flashed my mind and I looked away.

My mouth watered. I drooled from all the wrong thoughts.

I imagined the ink going through the grooves of his v-line.

This is wrong.

I wanted to smash my head against the wall.

“You wouldn’t know. It’s a secret.”

He moved with fluid grace, he was like an elegant serpentine leaning against the wall, like a silent danger waiting for me to fall into his dangerously calculated trap.

Unhurried and patient, he reeked of seductive grace and mysterious allure and I hated him for how he made me squirm in my toes.

“Then tell me. What were you writing in there that you have to hide from me?”

I avoided his gaze and took a step back.

But he was quick with his movements. He took one step to cross the distance he lost.

I was tall. But he was broader and larger. And it didn’t make things easier for me.

“A bunch of nonsense. And besides I didn’t know how to write your language.”

His brows dipped.

“My language? But you can speak it too. You’re speaking it right now.”

Thankfully, he didn’t notice how I changed the subject. My shoulders relaxed.

Well, it was still a mystery to me how we could understand each other, how I could speak the ancient language of Enoranthas.

Maybe it was the bloodweaving or a fixed order of the sacred timeline.

Having a language very different from your time might cause chaos among people, it might alter things if one wasn’t familiar with a language a certain timeline speaks.

I was never a good liar. I looked to my sides to compose a better lie.

“Well, I… I could speak it. But that doesn’t mean I could read it.”

He chuckled. His eyes fell on my lips then back to my eyes. Then he straightened his back, finally standing straighter, looming over me.

“How could someone speak a language one cannot read?” A smile lingered on his face. An amused glint in his eyes.

“Have you heard of verbal learning? People, especially the ones who are truly poor, who had no access to paper and ink. Had no access to reading materials and books…” My eyes were far away, so was my mind.

I remembered how I used to sit down and hide from people to listen to them converse, wishing I could learn with just that, listening, because there was no available way for me to learn other than to listen.

Because I was once small, and scared, and neglected by my parents who were so eager to fight for what they thought was right, forgetting they had children.

And food was too scarce and books weren’t a necessity as much as food and water was.

Learning came last to my priorities because feeding myself and my sister was my top priority.

“To make up for what they lack, people started learning from others by listening. By mimicking the syllables, and trying out the words that came out of someone else’s mouth. There are people who would do anything to learn. Lacking means you’re a little disabled but it doesn’t mean you should stop at it.”

There was power in learning, power in knowing, and I knew that very well. That was why I grew up trying so hard to know more than a poor girl should.

And when my eyes met his again, his features were softer, gentler.

But there was no pity in it. There was knowing in it.

“Sit down.”

Confused and slightly worked up, I followed his order.

He pulled the chair and sat beside me.

“If I teach you how to read, will you tell me where that language came from?”

And I knew there was no escaping him, he knew I was desperate for knowledge more than anyone else.

“That’s easy. Sure. Teach me your language. Show me how to read.”

He smiled a genuine one, I saw how it reached his eyes.

“Then why don’t we begin?”