Chapter 1
Camryn
Ireek of sweat and vomit. Normally, this would offend me. Instead, I smirk like someone who’s lost their sanity. Maybe I have. Whatever I can do to keep the cursed lord away and make him lament bringing me to his shithole palace, I do.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Days maybe.
Weeks possibly. I try to keep track of time by the cyclical schedule of when I’m served meals I refuse to eat.
I’ve survived only by consuming the barest amounts.
And when my nerves can’t even handle that and I stop eating altogether, they feed me.
Well, one in particular makes it his mission to shove food in my mouth.
The first few days are a blur. Having sobbed out my spirit, I lay in bed, desperate for sleep to deliver me to my grave.
But every time I drift off to bliss, large, warm hands cradle my head, waking me.
A rich voice speaks, encouraging me to open my mouth so he can trickle in a broth.
When I don’t comply, he sighs, his firm chest pressing against my shoulder.
“Drink, Camryn. Survive.” He’s commanding. But something more lingers in his tone.
“No,” my voice croaks out.
“Please. If you won’t eat, he will keep you alive. One way or another. He’s running out of time. I want to help you.” A finger strokes down my cheek.
Air expels from my lungs and I crack open an eye to see an angel holding me.
The angel’s wings burn bright red behind his broad shoulders.
Dark, midnight hair streaked with red and orange fall across his forehead.
His amber eyes hold such sorrow that I don’t understand why he won’t just ferry me away to the pearly gates I’ve been promised.
As if he read my thoughts, the angel speaks. “You will survive, and you will walk out on your own. I will be here, doing everything I can to help you. But I need you to fight.”
His face is so beautiful that I’m shallow enough to stick around simply to gape at him. Ugh, I loathe myself for finding my keeper attractive.
The angel’s lips twitch and amusement streaks across his face before he shifts, lifting my head higher in his arm to gaze deeper into my eyes.
“Whatever makes you stay. Now, please, open and drink.”
Whatever you say, Mr. Beautiful Angel.
A low rumble vibrates his chest, and my heart hears its song. I begrudgingly like this one. Hell may be my prison, but at least I’m not alone.
The angel’s name is Caelum, and I let him feed me until I’m strong enough to feed myself. He visits me almost every day. Sometimes several days pass and he doesn’t come. Those are the hardest, and I often slip back into my depression.
On those days, Vespera, a silent sprite, comes and helps me bathe. Her hands are soft as they brush through my ratted hair. I don’t mind her silence. Her aura is warm and comforting. But she doesn’t fill me with the same sense of ease that Caelum does.
The worst days are when the slimy lord requests my presence at dinner. He is beautiful in an otherworldly way, like a high-fashion runway model, but his icy eyes spear into my soul and send chills down my spine.
Vespera is skittish around him, which makes me more on edge.
I always wish Caelum would escort me to dinner with the cursed lord, but the two are seldom in the same place at the same time.
I wonder where Caelum goes when he’s not at the palace, but then my anger bubbles to the surface, thinking he’s out trapping women to deliver to the mountain.
I’m torn between anger about him being complicit in other women’s fates, or that he holds them in his arms. He’s my angel.
I wake one morning to find Caelum hovering over me beside my bed.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” he beams.
I scowl at him. He hasn’t visited me in at least a week. And his absence has taken its toll on my attitude. “Where have you been?” I grumble.
His lips press into a hard line. “I’ve had business to tend to.”
I narrow my eyes. “Hunting down more innocent women to deliver to this hellhole?”
His face falls. “Camryn…”
“Save it. I don’t care where you’ve been.” I swallow the lie. “Get me out of here or leave me alone.” I’ve had enough of waiting around for someone to tell me what I’m doing here.
He lowers his broad form to crouch beside my bed. I roll over to evade his alluring, golden gaze.
“Look at me, please,” he commands.
I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but I also don’t enjoy staring at the stone wall, reminding me of my imprisonment.
I begrudgingly turn to face him. “What?”
His face softens. “I want to tell you why you’re here. But I can’t. Only Arc can explain it to you. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to take you outside.”
My eyebrows lift. I haven’t been outside since I’ve arrived here. I’ve only caught glimpses of the foreign land through the windows. It’s bleak and overcast, which honestly matches the vibe of the place. “Is this like granting my last wishes before you kill me?”
His expression falls as he dips his head. “No. I will never hurt you, and no one is going to kill you. I just wanted to get you fresh air in the gardens.”
I hesitate. Is it a trick? While I find odd comfort in Caelum’s presence, I don’t exactly trust him. After all, he’s the one who stuck me in here.
His face cracks as if I’ve stabbed him straight through the heart.
“Fine,” I say, if only to placate him.
He rises to his full height and offers me a hand. I glance at it before kicking off the covers and huffing myself out of bed on my own.
He lowers his hand. “I’ll wait outside while you get dressed.” He turns and exits through the door before shutting it softly behind him.
I exhale. At least no one has tried to assault me. Obviously, being a woman, that was one of my first fears. But no one has attempted to touch me. Yet.
I turn to the wardrobe, pulling it open to find something appropriate to wear outside. While it was unseasonably warm back home, I remember the temperature was brisk when Caelum flew me to the palace. His body heat kept me nice and balmy, but the frigid air burned my cheeks.
I tug on cozy fleece leggings. They’re loose on me and I wonder how much weight I’ve lost in my protest of food. I throw a heavy sweater over the tunic I slept in and pretend not to notice the hollow of my stomach and sharpness of my ribs.
I twist my dark hair into a bun and secure it with a leather tie. After stuffing my feet into thick riding boots, I pull open the door to meet a silky pair of wings filling my door frame.
Caelum takes a step forward and turns toward me.
His gaze quickly flickers down my body, analyzing my outfit choice before he hands me a grey cloak.
I wrap it around my shoulders while I eye his attire.
He’s clad in dark leather pants and leather armor I don’t know the first thing about.
He looks like a guardian of the underworld ready for battle, which fills me with a dizzying mix of desire and dread.
He offers me his bent arm and I gaze at it before looking up at his face. Sighing, I loop my arm through his as he offers a faint smile. He straightens at my touch but leads me down the hall.
My room is only a few floors above the great hall that serves as the throne room.
He leads me through the expansive space and out a set of glass doors.
The crisp, wintry air caresses my cheeks, sending a shiver down my spine.
I inhale deeply, the icy sensation awakening my senses—a tangible reminder that I am indeed alive.
The confinement of being indoors planted seeds of doubt in my mind, as if I unwittingly stepped into the realm of the departed, my very soul trapped in a barren wasteland.
A tear slips down my cheek, and I turn to see Caelum watching me. His face is crestfallen, and his arm shifts as if he wishes to swipe away my tears. But his hand clenches into a fist at his side.
“How long have I been here?” I mutter.
His face hardens. “It’s been two full turns of the moon since you’ve arrived.”
Two months?
I gulp more frigid air into my lungs, making me choke out a cough. My mind turns to Aurora and how devastated she must be. I hope she made it out of the woods okay.
I blink through a fresh wave of tears. My vision blurs as I gaze at the vibrant gardens that seem to burst with life, despite the biting cold.
The scent of blooming flowers envelops the air, and the sight before me is a visual feast, an oasis of lush greenery and a kaleidoscope of colors that dance against the somber backdrop of the grey landscape.
Caelum takes a hesitant step forward, placing his other hand atop mine that still clings to his offered arm. “Come,” he gently commands.
I gaze at him before following his lead. He looks comically out of place. He shines like the sun against the gloomy backdrop. A beacon of warmth in a desolate tundra.
We stroll through the gardens, a mix of lavender and honeysuckle wafting through the air. We stop in the center, hummingbirds buzzing from bloom to bloom, sucking in nectar, none the wiser to my heartache.
A slight tug on my arm draws my attention back to Caelum, who leads me to the back of the gardens.
There, a weathered pergola stands, its wooden beams intertwined with thick, knotted vines heavy with swollen, fragrant buds.
I recognize the heart-shaped leaves of the moonflower vines. One of my favorites.
I feel his gaze on my face, and I turn to see him studying me. “Why did you bring me here?”
I know he understands I don’t mean the gardens.
His chest puffs with an inhale. “We all have a role here in Silverveil, even you. I don’t have the answers and I can’t see the future.
But I can feel your importance, and I have to believe that I brought you here for a reason.
Something greater than I can imagine. And I know you hate me for it.
But I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Camryn. I promise.”
I stare into his eyes for several breaths, my jaw clenching. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Slipping my hand from his arm, I clutch my cloak tight to my withered body before turning away from him and stomping back to my mountain prison.
I return to my room alone, wondering if Caelum will follow me.
He doesn’t. Later that night, I’m having a pity party for one with hot, angry tears that fall freely down my face.
I don’t have an appetite, so I refuse the dinner invitation when Vespera arrives to escort me to the dining room.
She winces, and I’m sure this will displease the lord.
I don’t have it in me to care.
The fading light outside turns my room dim. Lanterns and the fireplace sputter to life by some unseen magic. I am about to lie back against the pillows when footsteps in the hall make me bolt upright.
When Lord Arc bursts through the door, I leap from the bed, wiping away the wetness on my face.
His eyes burn into me, and a dark grin spreads across his face. I ready myself for an attack. There’s not much I can do to fight off a powerful fae lord, but I’m going to fight like hell.
He stops several feet away from me, assessing my defensive posture. “Your friend who was in the woods with you, what was her name?”
I blink at the unexpected question. “Aurora. Why?”
My stomach twists at the sly smile further tugging on his lips. “It seems she came after you,” he replies.
My heart lodges itself in my throat. Aurora is here? She came after me?
“We better prepare for another guest. How nice it will be for you to have your friend here with you.” Lord Arc’s gaze lingers on me before he turns on his heels and exits my room, leaving me panicked and breathless.
An icy dread grips me at Lord Arc’s plan to capture my best friend, but a selfish flicker of hope ignites at the thought of seeing Aurora again.
Maybe this is our way out. Together. Whatever it takes.