Chapter 1
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From one plush cage to another.
“Smile,” Willow says, and I force my face to work in the way it’s been trained as she lifts her phone and snaps a picture of me. Cackling quietly, she looks down at the screen. “Perfect. I just love blackmail.”
Frelsi gasps, zipping away from me and anchoring herself on Willow’s sleeve. “We look so cute! Can we get another one over there?”
I follow Frelsi’s tiny pointing arm toward a massive wooden throne upon a dais on the other side of this vast crystalline and marble ballroom.
We got here after walking through a crack in a sheer stone wall.
I’d be surprised, if Castor hadn’t taken me through a million different worlds in the span of a few minutes to get to Russia last week.
Palaces reside beyond mountain stones, and traffic can appear suddenly in the middle of a forest.
Such is the way of Faerie.
“I don’t see why not.” Willow turns on her platform shoes and heads toward the throne while Frelsi grabs my flowing blue skirt and tugs me forward with all her might.
“Come on, come on, come on!”
Clearing my throat, I inch across the pearl floors. “Whose castle is this?”
“Cael’s.” Willow plops into the extravagant seat, sprawls, and starts taking selfies.
Dread floods into my limbs, halting my advance. “Cael’s?” I whisper.
Willow’s white-lined eyes hit me, hard. “That’s a reaction. What fun stories has Castor told you about Prince Cael? The moth man keeps his history tucked away, and his wife, Alana, maintains confidentiality if he’s told her anything.” She scoots to the edge of the throne. “Spill.”
“Sorry. I don’t have any stories… It’s just clear that there’s friction between the two of them.”
Willow pouts. “Ask for stories as soon as you can. I want blackmail on all sides.”
Before I can think of a response, the door to the throne room flies open, hitting the wall. With his black-and-yellow wings spread, Cael freezes in the archway, staring at me. Shock holds his eyes wide before his nose wrinkles.
“Revolting,” he seethes, and I tense.
I should have known better than to agree when Willow said we were going on a walk in the woods. I should know better than to follow practical strangers into the woods. The woods is where people go to get murdered.
Freeing what seems to be a calming breath, Cael threads his fingers into his mid-length black hair streaked with the occasional strand of gold and combs back two antennae while he collects himself.
The glistening gold shimmers in the light as he adopts an entreating smile.
“Danielle, I presume.” He takes a silent step toward me.
“Charming to more formally make your acquaintance.”
My stomach sinks, and I take a fumbling step back.
Frelsi flits into the space between us, hands on her hips. Chirping, she declares, “Is it charming? Watch yourself before you make assumptions. Who are you, buddy?”
Cael’s white robes shift as he draws a hand to his chest. “Forgive me my manners. My name is Cael. I’m a friend of Willow’s. Dani and I met before, albeit too briefly to consider it a true meeting. I take it she’s your origin? I can sense the traces of her scent in your magic.”
Frelsi sticks her nose in the air. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Cael hums. “I see.”
I’m totally understanding why Castor considers this man self-righteous. He oozes propriety with a clear focus on appearance that seems to rival my mother’s.
After several calculating moments, Cael turns his attention to Willow, who now appears to be taking landscape photos of the scene before her. He asks, “How did you manage to liberate her from Castor’s domain?”
“Didn’t.” Willow presses the lock button on her phone and stuffs the device in a pocket of her frilly skirt. “He dropped her off earlier.”
Cael’s brows rise. “What?”
“Said he had business to take care of and asked me to babysit. Naturally, I agreed since I knew I’d be bored once Zy left to do stupid things without me. This is what happens when you make my dear sweet kitty investigate something top secret…and leave me so very unsupervised.”
Patient disapproval mars Cael’s expression before he sighs. “I will perhaps never understand anything that goes on inside Castor’s head. Regardless.” He extends a hand to me, all grace and elegance. “Come, little one. Let’s get you some actual clothes.”
I look down at my dress, skate my fingers over the jewel-toned reams of silk. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Don’t tell me.” Willow’s eyes spark. “That is scandalous.”
“It is not funny,” Cael states, clenching his hand into a fist. “It’s inappropriate.”
“Please. These days, Zy makes half my clothes based on rough sketches and Pinterest boards. It’s not a big deal.”
“If Dani has requested to wear Castor’s magic, it’s not a big deal. If she hasn’t, however, and I do suspect as much…”
I blink.
I look down at the fluttery, beautiful dress as delicate and pretty as butterfly wings.
This is Castor’s magic?
I’m wearing Castor’s magic?
That’s why the options in my armoire are different every day.
He makes them out of magic and changes them at will.
Honestly, that is a much better alternative to the idea that Castor sneaks into my cage without my knowledge and somehow manages to silently switch everything out before I wake up in the morning.
Or. Actually. Maybe it isn’t.
Not if wearing someone’s magic is scandalous.
Is wearing clothes made of his magic like having his hands just…everywhere?
Suddenly feeling somewhat exposed, I say, “Why is it bad that my clothes are made of magic?”
Ripples of concern fill Cael’s eyes. “Because,” he murmurs, so gently that I’m beginning to second guess my initial self-righteous assessment.
Maybe he’s just righteous. I don’t think self has much to do with the sincere way he’s exhibiting his worry about me right now.
With a sigh, he cups a hand to his mouth, and his gaze drifts while he seems to ponder a delicate way to articulate the horrors of the truth.
Willow interjects before he can find the words. “Because Castor could strip you naked like—” She snaps. “—that.”
Oh.
Well.
That is.
…news.
“Not that he would,” Willow adds, magnanimously. “Honestly, what good would it do? It’s not like he can see the results.”
Cael’s lips purse, and a weariness overcomes him. “Willow, please don’t make light of this.”
“Am I right or wrong: if Castor were the type to strip women against their will, you and Pollux would have killed him instead of just distancing yourselves.” Willow’s head cocks as her expression levels.
Cael’s eyes burn into her. “There are…many things that man has done that would have led to his demise under the rules of humans. Under the laws of the fae, however…”
“Oh, so he’s off stripping women, then?”
Cael’s eyes close as he sighs. “No. Not to my limited knowledge.”
“Don’t freak Dani out for no reason. Castor’s messed up, but he does get some credit in some areas, doesn’t he? He’s not completely messed up to the extent where he’d torture the innocent.”
“Torture? Perhaps not,” Cael murmurs. “But you can be sure that he has many times over not spared the innocent.”
Willow mellows. “Right. But he’s been alone in his domain, minding his own business, for a while now. People—human and fae alike—can change.”
Eyes reopening, Cael deflates. “Forgive me for having less faith in him. You were not there to witness many of his more violent crimes, though I would have assumed his recent manipulation might have left a more lasting impression.”
“What can I say? I’m a villain girlie. Practically an apologist. My heart aches for the wayward souls on their jagged upward paths.” She regains her phone and takes yet another picture.
Cael settles his hand at his temple and returns his attention to me. “Regardless of woulds or wouldn’ts, Dani, we should get Castor’s magic away from you and alert Zahra that you’re safe.”
Frelsi clamps her arms together. “Zahra knows we’re safe. Castor’s with her right now.”
Cael blinks.
“Also, I like Dani’s clothes just the way they are.”
Confusion burdens Cael’s eyes.
In a finishing blow, Frelsi states, “And I like Castor. He’s nice.”
“Nice?” Cael echoes. “Are we…discussing the same Castor I’m familiar with?”
Willow snorts. “Probably not,” she murmurs, swiping through her phone. “As I said, people…change.”
Frelsi sniffs, quite dignified. “He made me pancakes.”
“Pancakes,” Cael repeats, blinking some more. “He makes…pancakes now?”
“Shaped like dinosaurs sometimes,” I whisper.
“And they’re taller than me.” Frelsi stretches her hand above her head. “I ate them all and fell asleep, and then you know what happened? I woke up on a pillow beneath a tiny blanket.” In the air she snuggles herself up in a cozy little sleeping position. “Castor takes very good care of us.”
Thin, black antenna twitching, Cael looks to me. “Zahra is aware that you’re okay?”
I tangle my hands in my blue skirt, my blue skirt made of magic.
Castor’s magic. Desperate for the delusional sense of comfort he provides, I search for a sensation of him in it and draw strength from the idea.
“I texted her last night, after her stream. We’re planning to go to a sushi train in the town over on Tuesday. ”
“Great place,” Willow interjects.
“Texted?” Cael inquires, indignant.
“Y-yes?” I dwell on the coolness of the fabric in my hands.
Stable and steady. Like stone. “Castor got me a phone the other day.” He’s been working to figure out a medium that will work like a Wi-Fi extender just so he can catch the signal from the trod and bring it to our bedroom for me. He’s…sweet.
In many, many ways, he is very sweet.
Cael swipes a hand down his face and turns to Willow.
“Have I missed something of dire importance? Last I heard, we were assessing how to liberate a prisoner without bringing our domains to massacre, and now suddenly Castor is leaving said prisoner with you and letting her text Zahra at will. Why doesn’t anyone ever tell me anything? ”
“It’s funnier not to.”
Cael’s wings ruffle, then he twists on his heel, putting Willow behind him. “Danielle, come along quickly. I’d like to get you settled, but I am late for a meeting since the scent of your clothing distracted me on the way.”
I’m certain my upbringing is why my feet hurry to obey Cael’s command, because I’m not sure I want to follow him at all—not if he wants to separate me from Castor.
Which is a troubling thought. Because I’m still spending my nights in a cage and should, by all means, want to be separated from the man who kidnapped me and controls what I can or cannot do.
Being lost in my disturbing thoughts isn’t the only reason I am utterly blindsided when Cael leads me out of the throne room.
Beyond its grandeur, giant flowers full of strange napping creatures rest, and the scene continues to change with every step.
Cael presses on, past walls of water and books and clouds, until we reach a vacant bedroom adorned with pink and feathers.
My stomach knots the second I realize Willow didn’t join us. And neither did Frelsi.
I am alone in a strange palace with a strange prince.
Peering up the hallway, Cael tuts. “It seems we lost your dark pixie… Many distractions around here for one of her kind. No matter.” He sweeps me into the room with a suddenness that leaves me lightheaded. I regain myself atop the plush carpet, surrounded by plumes of tinsel.
I sink into the pinks and whites as he marches to a closet beside a lovely balcony and throws open the doors.
“There should be something suitable in here for you to wear…” he mutters.
Allowing a smile to soften his features, he steps back and presents the display.
“Change into whatever you’d like, little one, then familiarize yourself with the room.
You are safe to go wherever you’d like here.
No one in my domain would bring harm to you.
I’ll be back soon to collect and destroy Castor’s clothes.
We’ll talk more then, and I’m sure my wife, Alana, will be able to help you adjust. She was once human, too, and likely understands better what you might be going through. ”
I open my mouth to reply, but I don’t have a clue what I want to say, and it doesn’t matter anyway.
In another moment, he’s marched outside the room and closed the door behind him.