Chapter 2 #2
A slender figure with a cloak obscuring her face walks to the front of the line, and when I catch a glimpse of golden hair, I find myself walking closer to her. But when she looks up and stares directly at me, my heart sinks. It’s not her. It’s not the human female from my dreams.
I growl and return to my place on the steps. Occasionally, a scream echoes from inside the castle, and it causes the humans in line to startle and whisper among themselves. But surely they must know what the screams mean.
Families who arrive without the required tribute must instead hand over a daughter or a son. Some will be used as slaves, others will be used for pleasure, and some will even become valued concubines.
Before I can feel a speck of pity for the humans’ plight, I remind myself of the faefolk that were recently killed by the Braemar soldiers, several fae children among them.
My resolve hardens as I stare at the line of humans.
The citizens of Braemar and other human cities and towns must learn to live in close proximity to my people.
They must learn to make peace with the will of the gods.
Eventually, the sun dips below the horizon, and the fae soldiers patrolling the courtyard light torches.
I watch, with a growing sense of trepidation, as the line of humans begins to dwindle.
When I glimpse the very last household standing in line, I find myself holding my breath until they come close enough that I’m able to glimpse all their faces.
My pulse thunders in my ears, and rage courses through me.
The golden-haired female isn’t among them. She didn’t come to the castle today. Why not?
Dear gods. I think of the runners, the foolish humans who’ve tried to escape the walls of Braemar recently, and I immediately summon wings and shoot into the sky. Soaring over the dark city, I head straight for the corral where the runners and other prisoners are being kept.
I ignore the greeting from a fellow commander as I scan the faces of the women who are huddled in the corral. But my golden-haired mate isn’t among them. Fucking fires.
After returning to the castle, a trip to the dungeon reveals she’s not being held prisoner there either.
I hasten through the corridors of the castle, visiting all the rooms where servants and slaves are housed, leaving no corner unsearched.
Eventually, when the hour is late, just as I’m on the verge of descending into madness, I encounter King Theron in the corridor.
Immediately, I summon an aura of casual calm.
I have no intention of admitting to the Winter King, or anyone else, that I’m searching for a human female I keep dreaming about.
A female whose name I don’t even know. I suppress a growl.
“Good evening, King Theron.” I give him a deep, respectful nod.
“Good evening, Commander. How fortunate that we ran into one another. I have a task for you that requires the utmost discretion.” A flicker of unease enters the king’s eyes, but he blinks fast and his expression turns serious but composed.
Perhaps I’m not the only one who’s hiding something tonight.
“Ah, a task that requires the utmost discretion.” I force a wide smile.
“As always, my king, I am at your command. Though I do hope the task can wait until morning, as I was on my way to have some fun downstairs.” It’s a lie.
I wasn’t actually on my way to join the drunken revelry in the banquet hall, but he doesn’t need to know that.
One corner of his mouth twitches. “Yes, the task can wait until morning. It’s quite simple, really. I need you to visit 12 Marlow Street and check on the people who live there, a human man and his daughter. Their names are Tomas and Isabel Sinclair, and they are friends of my… latest acquisition.”
His latest acquisition. Ah. He’s referring to Helena, a human female that his brother, Prince Alaric, recently gifted to him.
The human female who happens to bear a striking resemblance to Elssandra, his late mate.
I was in the banquet hall when the prince carried the trembling human woman inside and set her down before King Theron.
How interesting that the king is trying to help Helena’s human friends.
At least I get the sense that he’s trying to help them.
“Did the Sinclair household fail to show up today? All households were required to visit the castle and pay tribute, and the extra patrols we deployed on the streets of Braemar were supposed to ensure no one skipped the event.” As I speak, I think about the one face I expected to see at Braemar Castle today, the golden-haired female who never made an appearance.
Gods, could the missing human woman and the female from my dreams be one and the same?
Isabel. Why does that name suddenly fill me with warmth?
“As I said, the utmost discretion,” the king says. “I want to know if the Sinclairs are still living on Marlow Street and why they failed to show up today. But regardless of what you discover, you will take no punitive actions against them. You will leave that up to me.”
“Very well, King Theron. Consider it done.”
I start to move past him, but he grabs my arm and glances around as though to ensure we have complete privacy.
“If the Sinclairs are not in residence at 12 Marlow Street, I trust that you will quietly track them down and inform me of their whereabouts,” he says in a commanding tone.
“Of course, my king. I won’t fail you.” I give him a sincere look as the hopefulness continues to rise inside me.
Whether Isabel Sinclair is the female from my dreams or not, I’m starting to suspect my mate is no longer within the walls of Braemar.
I’m starting to suspect she recently fled the city.
Which means… even if Isabel isn’t the woman from my dreams, perhaps as I search for the Sinclairs outside the walls of Braemar, the gods will smile upon me, and I will encounter my fated mate.
The king exhales slowly, gives me an appreciative nod, and we exchange a quick farewell.
To my surprise, as soon as he rounds the corner, I hear him break into a run.
How curious. If he’s running to his quarters to reunite with Helena after a long day spent accepting tributes from the humans, surely she must mean something to him.
But I nearly break into a run of my own as I rush down the stone steps toward the banquet hall. Not to join in the revelry, but so I might make a quick exit.
Though I told the king I would visit Marlow Street tomorrow at first light, I see no reason to wait. The slightest possibility that my golden-haired mate might be in residence at 12 Marlow Street has caused an urgency to erupt within me.
I rush outside the castle into the courtyard, then I summon wings and surge into the cold night sky.
Even if I must scour the entire realm, I will find my mate.
The golden-haired female from my dreams will soon belong to me.
I will not rest until I find her.