Chapter 13
Elariya
“The Price of the Gilded Cage”
Wolfe didn’t look back as he led me deep into the ship’s bowels.
I followed him through narrow corridors of gray walls that seemed to be closing in on me.
My lungs twisted and tightened, and my legs no longer felt like they belonged to me. Each step I took was like dragging my soul behind me, a hollow thing stitched together by fear and sheer will.
The dread that following him was my only choice still pulsed cold in my veins, and my worries were pushing me closer to insanity.
Was I ever going to escape him?
Would he set me free if I did what he said?
Where were we even going that would take three days to reach?
I wouldn’t know what I was up against until we spoke, but I assumed he was going to ask about my father, whom I hadn’t seen in five years.
So, how was I to help Wolfe?
His steps were soundless against the polished wood. Mine were a jittery mess marking every ounce of my discomfort.
I couldn’t stop watching his back, the slow swing of his coat, the movement of someone who’d always been in control.
I hated how calm he was. How composed. As if dragging a terrified girl across the sea was nothing more than business as usual. Maybe it was.
Maybe he was a pirate or bounty hunter.
And what about Arielle? I hadn’t seen her. Maybe she wasn’t here. That spell she performed was to get in my head. That could have been done from anywhere.
Why was I even thinking about her? She was working with Wolfe. So, why would she help me? What could she even do?
The corridor swallowed us in shadow once more, but I could still feel the sun on my skin like a fading memory.
The ship was ginormous with levels that ran wide and deep. We hadn’t been walking for long, but it was long enough for me. I thought we would have been talking by now.
I’d only ever been on a ship a handful of times in my life to visit my grandparents on my father’s side. They lived in Alandria, a continent south of Nelkaraad.
I was fourteen the last time I saw them. I enjoyed the one-day voyage. It was beautiful being on the sea. Like nothing else I’d ever seen. And Alandria had its own beauty that I used to look forward to. With its sea myths and legends, it was like a magical realm for me.
My last journey there was sad as we’d attended my grandparents’ funeral. They’d both perished from the same blight that came to Stormfell years later.
I’d always hoped my next sea journey would be better. Something more adventurous to replace the grief from the last. I never thought it would be this. With this fiend.
“This way,” he said, finally glancing over his shoulder. His voice was smooth again. Normal again. As if the shadows that had crawled across his face and devoured his eyes weren’t still burned into the back of mine.
Gods, what kind of power did he have?
It frightened me into submission and I hoped to never see it again.
How old was he to have such power?
It seemed to be the kind of power you’d spend a lifetime mastering. Decades or more.
Like a lot of things I’d sensed about Wolfe, there was something ancient about that power. But it was dark with no room for light. The worst part was he looked like he was holding back.
I was aware the Fae were immortal, but I didn’t know how they aged. Surely, he couldn’t be any older than Thayden. Maybe a year or two older, give or take. The beard made him look more mature, but his smooth skin maintained a youthful look.
What did I know? It was foolish to reason like I understood anything about those from the magical realm. I didn’t. Not even close.
Finally, Wolfe stopped before an ornate door that seemed out of place amidst the timeworn design of the vessel.
He opened the door, turned and looked at me, and as I stared at his face, I couldn’t forget the terrifying transformation I’d witnessed earlier.
“After you, my Lady.” He gestured for me to enter, a mockery of chivalry from a being who had just revealed himself to be something from mankind's oldest nightmares.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward and walked into what could only be described as a cross between a war room and a study.
The circular chamber had walls lined in dark wood paneling that gleamed with a polish that seemed almost wet in the low light.
A massive table dominated the center, its surface carved from a single slab of walnut wood that reflected the ceiling like a dark mirror.
Star charts and maps hung on the wall behind with details of constellations and territories I didn't recognize. Next to them were old leatherbound books on floating shelves that defied gravity, their spines marked with symbols instead of titles.
The scent of magic hung thick in the air here. Even the floating books seemed to whisper, their pages rustling with secrets they wanted to share.
This room displayed more magic than I’d ever seen, and yet the setup reminded me of my father. He would have loved this.
I was just like him. If these were different circumstances, I would have liked to get a better look at the books. But these were not normal circumstances.
“Sit,” Wolfe commanded, and a chair pulled itself out for me, the wood groaning as if it were a living thing.
It was strange to see magic being used so casually. It was also fascinating to see it used so freely, without care for restriction and fear of witch hunters or people like Chancellor Blackthorne and Friar Jameson.
But we were still in the mortal realm, where magic was very much forbidden.
My guess was Wolfe had used low-level magic that was subtle enough to slip past detection from the Sentinels. Then again, I doubted beings like Wolfe Nightblade gave a damn about laws. And I had the sinking feeling not many dared to challenge him.
I sank into the chair and rested my hands on the table. Wolfe lowered into the chair at the other end so that he was facing me. The amber light above cast an eerie glow across his features, enhancing the seriousness in his expression.
As we stared at each other, the room felt like it was breathing around us, expanding and contracting in rhythm with the weight of the tension.
It was hard to look at him like this, staring him in the face, and not think of the way he touched me the other night. But more than anything the memory infuriated me.
“Where are you taking me?” I spoke first, deciding I needed to know the answer to that question before we got into any other discussion.
“Galaythia.”
My breath hitched. Gods. “Galaythia? As in the Galaythia in Vaelthorne the magical realm?”
“The one and only.”
Three-days by sea. It made sense now.
Father never really spoke about the distance it took to get to the magical realm, because when he was assigned there, he was gone for months.
How I dreamed of going there someday. But not like this. The timing couldn’t have been worse. My family needed me.
“I have to go back to Stormfell. I’m getting married in two weeks.” I tried to sound as firm and confident as I could, but the devil disarmed me with that terrible, beautiful smile I'd come to fear.
“Married?” His lips curved deeper. “To your betrothed?”
“You know this. You stole me from my engagement celebrations.”
“Stole is a strong word, Ziyka. Could it really be stealing if you would have gone with me willingly?”
Asshole. Was he serious? “That was before I knew what you were up to. Now you have to take me back to Stormfell. I have to get married to Thayden. And I cannot help you find your ring.”
“You weren’t so worried about your marriage or this Thayden you think is your betrothed when you were kissing me. Or agreeing to fuck me.” His tone was sour with sarcasm. It was almost like I was speaking to a different person from the monster who’d scared me to death earlier.
“You tricked me.”
“Ahh, be that as it may, I never made you do anything you didn’t want to do.” He placed a hand to his heart, feigning innocence. It looked as unbecoming of him as an ill-fitted suit.
“Like I said, I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”
“That is irrelevant. You didn’t want to believe I was dangerous.
” Wolfe's power rolled off him in waves, dark and seductive. “You didn’t even question the fact that I’d gotten onto the grounds of your home without anyone noticing or stopping me.
And you definitely would have let me fuck you against the wall, then ask questions later. ”
My stomach bottomed out and my skin went up in flames. I’d never met anyone who’d spoken with such candor or who could be so blatant about sex and fucking without blinking or showing some reaction.
Wolfe gave me a lopsided grin, probably because I’d gone completely red, and it was obvious he was right.
Even as terror clawed at my throat, some traitorous part of me remembered that I thought about it—him fucking me against the wall.
I recalled with perfect clarity my uncontrollable attraction and need for him to take me. I hated myself for it. I hated how my body still responded to him.
I hated that even now, with the truth of his cruelty laid bare, I couldn't fully extinguish that spark of wanting.
I should know better, should have known that the devil can wear many different faces. But I was lost in the heat of his kiss and the strength in those hands that now threatened to destroy everything I loved.
Wolfe steepled his fingers and rested against the chair, looking down at me with a holier-than-thou arrogance. “You should be thanking the gods I stopped us from going further.”
Absolute fucking asshole. He was making me sound like a pathetic whore who couldn’t help herself. “I’m not a whore.”
“I dare say I haven’t come across many virgins who were.”
Damn it. Damn that stupid conversation with Emabelle.
If I’d known some Fae lord was going to overhear my private business, I would have stayed at home that night.
Aside from everything else he shouldn’t know about me, it was just my damned luck he knew I was a virgin. Everything was so fucked up as it was. Did the universe have to humiliate me further? Did he have to?