A Court Bright and Broken (Age of Fae #1)

35. Not a Stranger

Chapter 35

Not a Stranger

R aewyn

I bolted upright in the bed, confused and suddenly cold.

My blanket was off, and the fireplace had died down to the point it was merely glowing embers.

My exposed skin was chilled everywhere my shift didn’t cover me, which included my legs. The garment had bunched during my tossing and turning and covered me only to the tops of my thighs.

I yanked it down and blinked, willing my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Had I heard a voice?

“Who’s there?” I asked.

Was it only a dream or had I heard a man in the room—a man who was not Stellon?

“I asked you first,” the man’s voice said.

So, definitely not a dream. More like a nightmare.

There was a strange man in here, and I couldn’t be any more vulnerable, half-alert and less than half-dressed.

I didn’t answer him, just stared up at the outline of his head and body, which looked enormous as he loomed above me. Whoever the guy was, nothing good could come from getting to know him.

Rolling toward the other side of the bed, I attempted to make an escape. But by the time my feet hit the floor, he’d already made it to that side of the bed where he now stood blocking my path.

And then I heard a match strike, and the candle beside the bed flared to life, illuminating the stranger’s face.

Only he was not a stranger.

“Pharis,” I declared in a shocked exhale.

According to Stellon, his brother had left the palace for the faraway southern territory of eastern Sundaris and wouldn’t return before the end of the Assemblage.

But there he stood, staring down at me with those glittering turquoise eyes like a cobra contemplating a helpless mouse, debating how long to toy with his meal before devouring it.

A torrid heat enveloped me from head to toe, and my mouth went dry.

My voice was a terrified rasp. “How did you get in here?”

His eyes slitted, and his brows lowered. “Do we know each other?”

Oh right. As far as Pharis knew, he’d never met me. I no longer looked like the glamorous Lady Wyn who’d caught his attention at the ball.

“No, I… I recognize you though,” I said.

Leaning against the bedpost, he pushed his tongue into the inside of one cheek as he studied my face. And the rest of me. Chill bumps raced across my skin as he took his time sweeping those bright eyes down my body.

“There is something familiar about you,” he said, clearly puzzled. “Do you work in the palace? A maid? A servant?”

He snapped. “One of my father’s retinue.”

Though I shouldn’t have been insulted by the reasonable assumption, it irked me. My tone sounded far too combative when I answered.

“No. None of those.”

Pharis shook his head. “But you are human. Which begs the question… what are you doing in my brother’s bed?”

“Sleeping,” I said.

Meanwhile, my mind groped for an answer as to how I’d possibly get out of this conundrum alive.

Pharis rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Let me rephrase. Why are you sleeping in my brother’s bed?”

What could I say? Nothing at all didn’t seem to be an option.

“It’s with his permission,” I said. “That is, he asked me to. I mean, I didn’t sneak in here or anything.”

Which Pharis obviously had. Somehow.

I looked around for an explanation of how he’d managed to get into the locked suite. And then I saw it.

Along one wall hung a row of massive paintings, which I’d admired many times. They were each the height of a man, framed in ornately carved gold-plated frames, and each depicting part of a hunting scene.

Instead of a fox or a rabbit, the Elves on horseback, along with their dogs, chased a Satyr. The collection of them told a story—one I could relate to at the moment since I felt very much like terrified prey.

One of the paintings stood away from the wall. There must have been a set of hinges hidden behind one side of its frame, enabling it to serve as a hidden doorway.

I was tempted to run to the dark opening and disappear into it, taking my chances as to where it led.

Pharis’ eyes roamed over me as he evaluated my response.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” he said. “But looking at you, I suppose I can surmise his reason.”

He seemed disappointed—and at a loss for what to do next.

Turning away, he stalked over to the fireplace and started jamming logs into it, underpinning them with kindling. Flames began to jump as the small pieces of fatty wood contacted the hot coals.

Their golden glow illuminated Pharis’ profile and highlighted his troubled expression, making him look like Aelius, the harsh but fiercely beautiful fire god portrayed in my mother’s books.

“I was so sure I’d find her in here,” he muttered as he thrust another log into the fire.

“I know I felt—” he stopped his sentence abruptly, rising to his feet and turning back to me.

He sounded furious as he began peppering me with questions. “How long have you been here? When did my brother invite you to begin… cohabitating or… whatever it is you’ve been doing?”

What was I supposed to say? Answering him honestly didn’t seem like a good idea.

Not answering seemed just as dangerous. He was clearly very upset by the idea of his brother “cohabitating” with a human.

I needed to stall for time so I could think of the wisest next move.

Lifting my chin in defiance, I asked, “What business is it of yours?”

Pharis came to the end of the bed, reaching it so quickly he was nearly a blur. I scrambled back against the headboard, my heart vibrating in shock and yes, a little bit of awe.

While Stellon had gone out of his way not to be intimidating, Pharis had no problem demonstrating the vast power differential between our races.

“What business?” he spat. “My brother’s welfare is always my business. And you, little human, are not in his best interest. Especially not right now.”

Huddling near one of the gathered bed curtains, I began to tremble.

Was he going to kill me now?

I looked around in a panic. I was trapped in here with a powerful, angry Elven male who, unlike his brother, had no attachment to me whatsoever. He couldn’t care less whether I lived or died—and probably was leaning toward the latter.

Pharis stood between me and the bedroom door. The secret passageway was my only choice.

Harnessing the surge of adrenaline currently flooding my body, I leapt from the bed and dashed over to the opening.

An arm like steel wrapped around my midsection and lifted me off my feet, hauling me back against his body.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said close to my ear and laughed wickedly. “You and I aren’t nearly finished yet, little human.”

And then Stellon stepped from the passageway into the room. His piercing gaze whipped from my frightened eyes to over my head at his brother’s face.

“What is going on here?” he roared. “Let her go this instant.”