Chapter Nineteen
“ C an none of you announce yourselves?” I asked, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest.
Bellamy wore a red tunic that was left partially unbuttoned, revealing his ink-covered torso. Now that I was not focused on calming him down, I could see that the thin black lines almost looked like veins. His trousers were black and perfectly pressed, his hair combed to the side with those same few strands hanging forward over his forehead. He had on black shoes and a luxurious red cloak that seemed to be fur lined inside.
“Can you resist taking control of another soul’s mind for more than a day?” he countered, raising an eyebrow. When I stayed silent, my fists clenching and my blood boiling, he gave a smirk. “How about we both promise to stop, then kiss and make up?”
I did not miss the step he took towards me as he spoke, his eyes on my mouth.
“I would rather take my chances with pumpkin back there.” I scoffed, pointing my thumb at the gigantic fae behind me.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw that same fae seething. I realized then that he would no longer be under my compulsion, and he was likely not excited about what I did. I shrugged, knowing that apologies would change nothing, especially when I did not mean it.
Bellamy chuckled, but his eyes narrowed in on the male at my back.
“I have her from here, Henry,” he said, waving off the male. Henry mockingly saluted Bellamy and glared down at me before walking the opposite direction of the double doors that he had nearly led me through.
So close. So painstakingly close.
With my eyes focused intently on the fae, desperately wishing I could have had him walk me through the doors and back into my chambers at the palace, I did not notice Bellamy approach.
“If you are so interested, then why not follow him?” he asked, his breath hitting my ear.
His question took me by surprise. Did he think I was lusting after the male who clearly loathed me? I maintained my gaze as I spoke, not wanting our lips any closer than they already were.
“Seeing as he looked like he might rip my head off the second you turned around, I would wager he is uninterested.” Bellamy’s chest met my back then, sending chills down my spine.
“Anyone that would dare think harm upon you would die at my own hand, Princess. And let me tell you, I have yet to see a male in your presence seem even the slightest bit disinterested.” Hidden meanings beneath his words started to swirl in my mind.
Why would he care if someone hurt me? Did that mean his feelings were real? Was he referring to someone in particular? Did I even care?
“Lucky for you I am perfectly capable of taking down anyone who comes at me,” I said, twisting my body to face his. Bellamy’s gaze slid down to my mouth, and he pressed his body into mine once again. He licked his lips, then let his eyes wander up slowly. When his bright blue irises locked with my own, our lips just a breath away, I whispered to him. “And I am far out of their league, seeing as they associate with demons.”
As I spit out the words, I used all of my strength to shove his chest. Though my body responded to Bellamy, my mind thought of another way I had been pressed down, forced.
He laughed at my aggression, but that did not surprise me—he was clearly deranged.
“Ah Asher, how you wound me. So, do divulge your reason for holding poor Henry captive,” he asked, his smile not quite bringing out his dimples. I crossed my arms over my chest again, feeling defensive.
“You tell me nothing and you expect me not to keep secrets as well?” I retort. This time his smile lifted fully, both dimples appearing along with the crinkles at the edges of his eyes. Damn him for being so handsome.
“Interesting that you did not openly refuse to answer. Are you suggesting we each divulge a secret?” he asked, head tilting to the side. I was not suggesting that at all, in fact my only goal was to be annoying, but any information would be invaluable right now.
“Can I ask you anything?” I questioned. I refused to be tricked into learning something derisory and inconsequential.
“You can, but I do not promise to answer it.” At his response I began stomping down the hallway I came from, not at all sure of where I was headed. “How about you ask first?” he added, his tone making me halt my childish march.
Why did he sound as if he were desperately yearning for my question?
“Fine,” I said, not turning around to face him for fear of what I might see. I could not afford to be deceived by him again. Instead, I stood there, thinking hard about what I could ask that he might answer. What would hold weight but might seem innocent. “That fae, Henry, what were his powers?”
I heard his intake of breath, but by the time I turned around he had schooled his face back into a cocky smile.
“Well, someone has found a way to surprise me it seems,” the demon said with a chuckle.
I glared at him, wishing I could take his mind and force answers out of him. Just to see, I reached out and was met with quiet, emptiness, as if no one was there. If I pushed harder, I could sense a wall of flame—hot and impenetrable—but doing so made me dizzy.
“Stop doing that, it is impolite,” he chided.
I gasped. “How did you know I was trying?”
“Oh no you do not, one question. And the answer to your first one, is light,” Bellamy said, as if that was all the explaining one would need.
I blinked, too confused to respond.
“I like the way you look when I puzzle you,” he said, smiling widely. I quickly relaxed my face, not needing him to feel any way towards me other than afraid if I wanted to maintain control over the conversation. Though honestly, I did not feel as though I had it at the moment. “His ability is light. He can call to it, weaponize it, create it.”
“That is impossible,” I said, my brows knitting together.
Why was he lying to me about something so small?
Unless I was wrong, and the male was not fae. Looking at Bellamy was an obvious hint that I ignored—there were some demons who did not look much different than fae. I thought back to the way Henry looked. He had that bright hair that distracted from everything but his height, and that face full of freckles. His jaw was not as defined, body not as bulky, but still handsome.
“You are figuring it out, I can tell.” I looked up at him again, noting the way he leaned towards me, as if excited to see my mind working through the puzzle.
“Henry is not fae is he?” I asked. He smiled then, his head shaking slowly back and forth. I was right, they had demons who looked like us, so much so that I did not even hesitate to assume we were the same. “Do all demons look fae?” I inquired, desperate to know more, to have a fighting chance against these creatures.
“Nope, we were only each allowed one question and I answered two. Your turn now, where were you trying to go?” he pushed. What was I supposed to say? I was mindlessly wandering? I wanted to somehow find someone to teach me to fight? I needed to get out of this fancy prison? They all gave off an innately naive feel, but there were no better answers coming to mind.
“I felt trapped. So much has happened, and I am overwhelmed. I have no one, I cannot defend myself against a mortal boy let alone fae or demons, I am unaware of whether I will live or die, and no one has bothered to tell me where I am. I have been assaulted, kidnapped, beaten—” Cutting myself off before I shared too much, I averted my gaze to my feet to avoid the pity that was steadily filling his eyes. I would not be looked down on. “Do not give me that look; if you want to show remorse, then take me home.”
“Home? Asher, that was not a home. You call this a prison, but what is the difference? Why can you not see that the life you were living was not worthy of you?” he asked, stepping towards me.
I backed away just as quickly as he crept forward, but my back hit the wall. When Bellamy was about three steps in front of me, he stopped his pursuit. Apparently, that was not a rhetorical question.
“I was loved and cared for and given everything there. I had a family, a community. Here I have nothing, I am nothing. Why bring me here Bellamy? To torture me? To brainwash me? To use me? What is your motive?” My voice was full of acid, like poison coming from my mouth. Regret was something I felt very rarely, but a small part of me wished I treated him better.
Tragic as it was, that part of me needed to be squashed. She was weak and easily exploited. I would beat that part of myself down until she was nothing, because I could not afford to be at the mercy of a sycophant.
“You know nothing of love, I can promise you that. You know only the tactics of a corrupt monarchy that used and abused you for years without you even realizing!” he said, voice rising without fully yelling. I pressed my head back in the wall, looking up at him with a scowl.
“What do you know about my life? How long were you sitting in the shadows stalking me like a lunatic?” I shot back. He was not without fault, and he knew nothing of who I was or what I lived. I was lucky to have the life I did, lucky to be afforded such opportunities.
“You would be surprised Princess, I know much more than you think I do.” He closed the distance between us, once again bringing our faces inches apart. Cinnamon and smoke wrapped around me, like his scent was a tangible thing.
“Take me home,” I demanded.
He would not take me back, but I had to try this way before I attempted to flee, because that was not going to start or end well, and everything in between would be horrid too. He placed a hand on my cheek then, cradling my face. His features softened but his eyes blazed on like an uncontrollable fire of rage wanting nothing but to consume.
I was in the lion’s den. Even worse, I was enjoying it. To my discontent, that part of me was not rooted out fully yet.
“Why can this not be home?” he whispered. I thought he would kiss me, but instead he took a deep breath and started walking towards the double doors. Anger and sadness warred over my heart, because I had yet again been fooled by his act.
“You speak of home as if you did not steal me away. As if you did not kidnap me against my will. I would rather call a mud puddle my home than this place, here with you. Because at least the mud puddle does not act like a hot spring. You are no sheep offering sanctuary and love, Bellamy, you are a lion waiting to attack, and I refuse to be the lamb that falls prey to you.” My voice faltered, shaking with uncertainty and outright ignorance. I knew that what I said was truthful, so why did I struggle to believe it?
“Then follow me,” he said without looking back at me.
“To where?” I asked, a bit of terror shooting through my veins. At that, he turned around, his face the picture of serenity.
“To train you into a lion.”