Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Joy
The Unseelie warriors, or whatever they were, were terrifying.
They stood motionless as marble statues, yet menace radiated from them like heat from a forge.
The twin suns caught their swords and armor, sending a blinding flash of light that made me squint.
But it was their eyes—god, their eyes—that made me break out in gooseflesh.
Their irises shifted and swirled like liquid mercury, cycling through shades I’d never seen in eyes before: silver to violet to deep forest green, then back again in hypnotic patterns that made my head spin.
There was no humanity there, no warmth—just ancient, Unseelie intelligence that seemed to strip me bare and catalog every weakness I possessed.
My skin prickled under their collective stare. They weren’t just soldiers—they were apex predators, and I was nothing more than prey stumbling into their territory.
No mercy. There would be no mercy here.
Ari straightened beside me and his posture shifted into something more respectful, clearly rehearsed. He swept into a precise bow that looked practiced, almost ritualistic, and placed his hand over his black heart. “Greetings, my liege. I’m here to speak with Her Majesty, Queen Alanna.”
The lead soldier’s grip tightened on his sword hilt as those otherworldly eyes fixed on Ari with laser intensity. “What do you want with the queen?”
“I have a way to open the portal.”
The portal. My stomach lurched as I remembered what I’d already done—what I’d been forced to do.
The soldier’s sword point wavered, dipping toward the checkered tiles beneath my feet. Something flickered in those shifting eyes—hope, maybe, or hunger. “How?”
Ari’s smile held no warmth—cold, calculating, the expression of someone who held all the cards and enjoyed the power. “I will only tell the queen.”
The soldier’s beautiful, inhuman face darkened like storm clouds gathering. “If this is a trick—”
“I know. I know.” Ari flicked his hand as if he were bored. “We’ll both die a horrible death.”
The guard's weapon lowered another inch, but his stance remained coiled, ready to strike at the first sign of deception. A flicker of relief coursed through me—small, tentative, but there.
Until he spoke.
"Yes. By beheading."
The casual way he said it—like reading from a menu—sent ice water flooding through my veins. I pressed closer to Ari, hating myself for seeking comfort from my captor but terrified of what these creatures might do if left to their own devices.
And once again, my chest ached with a longing wish that Enzo was here. His steady presence, his protective strength—god, what I wouldn't give to feel his hand in mine right now.
"Shackle them," the soldier commanded.
Heavy footsteps thundered across the checkered tiles behind me, each boot fall making my heart skip faster. Rough hands seized my arms from behind, fingers digging into my flesh with bruising force. I jerked forward, trying to twist away, but their grip was unrelenting.
Cold metal kissed my wrists before snapping shut with a sound like breaking bones. The shackles bit into my skin immediately—not just metal, but something that hummed with malevolent energy, making my shadows recoil deep within my chest like frightened animals.
I thought about calling on them—letting them surge out and unlock the manacles—but would they even work here?
These were Unseelie—my supposed kin—and the shadows that obeyed me may fail in comparison to whatever powers they possessed.
I had to escape, but not here, not now. I needed to be alone, away from these guards, somewhere I could try using my shadows to open a portal.
Attempting it while surrounded by armed Unseelie would be suicide.
Fear nearly choked me, and I trembled so hard my bones rattled.
Beside me, Ari released a long, theatrical sigh, as if he were standing in a grocery store checkout line instead of being bound by otherworldly warriors who could kill us with Unseelie magic.
His carefree attitude only heightened my fear.
How could he be so calm when I could barely keep from hyperventilating?
“We go to the palace and let the queen decide their fate,” the soldier said. “If they try to escape or to harm any of you, kill them.”
As we began moving, I caught my first real glimpse of our destination.
Through the gaps in the trees ahead, a massive palace rose against the lavender sky, its white towers spiraling upward like frozen flames.
The structure seemed to glow with the same inner light as the homes around us, but brighter, more commanding—a beacon that both drew and repelled me.
I shivered as I broke into a cold sweat.
The soldiers moved around us in practiced formation, their armor clanking with each synchronized step that sounded like a death march.
I forced my trembling legs forward, my knees threatening to buckle with every stride.
The checkered path was uneven beneath my sandals, and I stumbled more than once, earning sharp prods from the sword points that followed my every movement.
Poke. The blade tip bit through my shirt, just piercing the skin between my shoulder blades. I winced and quickened my pace, my heartbeat spiking higher and higher with every step.
Poke. Another jab, this time lower, making me arch my spine to avoid the razor edge. Warm blood trickled down my back where the metal had found flesh.
What if I died here? The thought of never seeing Enzo, Serenity, my brother, Steve, and all the others again turned my throat bone-dry. I blinked away tears; tears wouldn’t bring me any mercy.
I fixed my gaze on the soldier ahead of me, his pale hair gleaming like spun moonlight under the double suns, trying to focus on anything other than the growing panic rising at my throat.
Enzo. Where are you? The thought consumed me, stealing what little calm I had left.
Did you escape? Do you even know how to open the portal to come after me?
The smell of my own fear-sweat overpowered the sweet floral air, marking me as prey. They could probably smell it too—my terror. I wished I was as cool as Enzo in the face of danger, unshakable no matter the threat.
As I marched deeper into this mysterious realm, the crimson pines and white-barked trees began to thin out, revealing glimpses of white homes that emerged from between the trunks like pearls scattered across green velvet—some grand as palaces with soaring spires that twisted toward the lavender sky, others more modest like fairy tale cottages with curved walls and arched doorways.
But they all shared one breathtaking quality: they glowed. Not with electric light, but with an inner radiance that pulsed gently like a heartbeat, casting everything in soft, ethereal illumination that made the air itself seem to shimmer.
Some of the residents had emerged from their glowing homes and lined the checkered path like spectators at an execution. Heat flushed across my skin under their scrutiny as dozens of otherworldly eyes tracked our procession.
A woman with silver hair cascading to her ankles tilted her head, studying me with the detached curiosity of someone examining an exotic insect. Her pale lips curved into a small, cold smile that made my stomach clench with dread.
Others weren't so subtle in their hostility.
A man with scars crisscrossing his face spat on the ground as we passed, his expression twisting with such raw hatred that I shrank closer to my captors—a move that disgusted me even as I did it.
His eyes burned with the kind of fury that came from deep, personal loss.
But it was the pity that unnerved me most. An elderly Unseelie woman pressed her hand to her heart and shook her head slowly, her ancient eyes filled with something that looked dangerously close to sympathy. She whispered something in a language that sounded like wind chimes and regret.
My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.
Obviously strangers—especially human-looking ones—weren't welcome here.
I thought about the Supernatural War Enzo had told me about, and my gaze swept over the watching faces with new understanding.
How many of these soldiers marching beside me had fought in that brutal conflict?
How many of the residents lining our path had lost children, lovers, parents to that war?
If they had—and judging by the scarred faces and haunted eyes around me, many had—they would be hungry for revenge. The kind of soul-deep vengeance that had been festering for decades.
And would put my own world at risk.
This wasn't going to end well, and not even my shadows—cowering and weak as they felt in this place—would be able to stop the inevitable outcome.
I was walking toward my own execution, and everyone here knew it. Everyone but Ari. He acted as if he had an ace up his sleeve. Maybe he’d escape the hangman’s blade, but I wasn’t sure I would.
The closer we got to the palace the more sadness cut into me, knowing I’d never see Enzo again. I don’t know why Ari thought I could protect him. I couldn’t even save myself.