Chapter 19
19
CAT
W e left the Underclaw Market and wandered the streets of the Southern District, pondering a dozen different theories. Damien still hadn’t released my hand. I wasn’t sure what he was nervous about, but he had a death grip on it. And for some odd reason, I didn’t mind. That thought worried me, but that was a problem for another day.
Personally, I thought my idea was pretty awesome, but Damien said there was no evidence to back it up. Which was true and all, but damn, he didn’t have to completely dismiss me. I felt like it was a solid theory. All my years of acting and watching television had finally paid off! Or so I thought.
Damien came to a sudden stop without warning. I looked up at the building we stopped in front of and realized we were standing in front of the infamous brothel, The Gilded Serpent.
My eyes widened with excitement. I’d been dying to go inside and check it out! I wasn’t one to go to strip clubs very often, but I could honestly say they had the best chicken wings. Chicken wings and a lap dance? I mean, you just couldn’t go wrong. I started dragging Damien up the stairs when he stopped me.
“No!” he barked, his eyes wide and scandalized. “You wait out here.”
I pouted and crossed my arms with a huff. “What? Why?”
“I shouldn’t have even brought you here,” he muttered, annoyed. “Give me my cloak.”
I whipped his cloak off my shoulders and handed it to him. He fastened the neck and flipped the hood over his head. “I’m serious, Cat. Stay outside. The Gilded Serpent is not… for your kind.”
I snorted. “My kind being what?”
“Women.”
“Now that’s just sexist,” I grumbled. I watched him enter the brothel with more than a little disappointment. As Damien disappeared into The Gilded Serpent, a surge of defiance straightened my shoulders.
The brothel’s ornate facade beckoned with a sly opulence that was difficult to ignore. From the outside, the building shimmered under the glow of streetlamps, its columns adorned with intricate serpent motifs that twisted up toward a sign glittering with gold. No reds marred the purity of its decoration—only the gleam of gold that gave the place a regal, if not somewhat foreboding allure.
Ignoring Damien’s warning, I pushed the heavy door and stepped inside. The interior was a stark contrast to the dark, grimy streets outside. Golden light bathed lush carpets that led the way through an opulently decorated hall. More golden serpents adorned the walls, each scale meticulously crafted to catch the light and create the illusion of movement. Spicy perfume and the subtle undertone of incense wove a seductive spell that was hard to resist.
Intense, palpable energy charged the atmosphere. A singer’s sultry voice curled around the patrons, her melody weaving through the air like smoke, enhanced by softly clinking glasses and the discreet rustle of silk. Dancers moved with fluid grace on a small, elevated stage, their bodies clad in scant golden fabrics that clung to their lithe forms, revealing more than they concealed. Their movements were hypnotic, each step and turn executed with a precision that spoke of many hours spent perfecting their art.
The women of The Gilded Serpent were diverse in their beauty, each possessing her own unique allure. Some had long, flowing hair that cascaded down their backs, others sported shorter styles that framed beautiful faces. Their makeup was impeccable, bold and artful, designed to enhance their features under the golden lighting. They moved among the guests with a confidence that was almost tangible, their eyes occasionally catching the light to reveal a spark of ambition or perhaps mischief.
The patrons in the room varied from young men to older gentlemen, all seemingly entranced by the display of charm and sensuality around them. The hunger in their eyes was unmistakable; it was a look of men who saw what they wanted and were used to taking it. Yet, here in this realm, they played by the rules of the house, their gazes merely following the dancers with a mix of admiration and barely concealed desire, unless they had the money to pay for it.
Feeling a blend of curiosity and boldness, I moved deeper into the brothel, my ears tuned to the conversations around me, my eyes soaking in every detail. The opulence of the interior, the heady mix of fragrances, and the allure of the seductive dances created an environment that was worlds away from the gritty streets outside.
I found an unoccupied table in the corner and sat down, hoping to not be noticed and just people watch. Women led men away to private rooms and my imagination ran wild with what was happening behind closed doors. Just then, a server stopped at my table and snapped me from those thoughts.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Her brow was raised, though she didn’t seem surprised in the least to find a woman in this establishment.
My tolerance for alcohol was abysmal. “Uh… water, please.”
She nodded and left to get my drink just as music began to play; a melody so whimsical, I couldn’t help but turn in its direction.
A scantily clad woman stood in the center of the stage. She hummed in tune with the instruments before she began to sing.
In the whispers of a broken town,
When the sun has long gone down,
There’s a tale of dark disgrace,
Of a prince who hides his face.
Never seen and seldom known,
Wanders far, always alone.
A specter in the night so still,
With a lonely heart no love can ever fill.
The melody played and the chorus began:
Hear the song of the Shadow Prince,
Through the alleys where shadows wince.
A dragon’s blood with no flame to dance,
In the darkness, he finds his chance.
The waitress arrived with my cup of water and placed it on the table before me. She was about to leave when I gripped her arm. “Wait.” Entranced, my eyes never left the stage. “This song. Is it about the third prince?”
She nodded. “Aye. It’s the song of the Shadow Prince. He’s very well known here in The Gilded Serpent, though none of us has ever seen him.”
I frowned. “No one has seen him? Then how do you know he’s real?”
She shrugged. “Don’t all legends start with a hint of truth?” she questioned. “The third prince has been exiled to Obsidian Reach his entire life… but he’s a thing of stories here on the mainland.” With a seductive grin, she spun out of my grasp, gave a slight bow, and sauntered away.
Silent secret under the moonlight
Flying free in the cover of night
On stolen wings he stalks the streets
Disappearing to his dragon’s keep
No open arms, no welcome home
Rage burns within his bones.
A specter in the night so still,
A wayward heart no love can ever fill.
Hear the song of the Shadow Prince,
Through the alleys where shadows wince.
A dragon’s blood with no flame to dance,
In the darkness, he finds his chance.
The singer continued her mesmerizing melody. As I listened to the words of the song, it seemed like it was no secret that Damien had acquired his dragon. Or perhaps the people didn’t know it had been taken away. Either way, I wondered whether the emperor had heard this folk song. It could cause a lot of trouble for Damien.
Under moonlight, he bears no scales,
In his eyes, a sorrow that never pales.
He walks the land in silent plea,
A dragon’s form he’ll never be.
Mystery and magic cloak the dark night sky
And cast quiet shadows as he glides by.
So if you feel a chill in the air,
And the touch of a gaze that’s barely there,
It’s the prince who walks alone,
The dragon heir to no throne.
A specter in the night so still,
With an empty heart only a flame can ever fill.
Hear the song of the Shadow Prince,
Through the alleys where shadows wince.
A dragon’s blood with no flame to dance,
In the darkness, he finds his chance.
Sing the ballad, soft and low,
Of the prince who roams in the shadow’s glow.
A legend wrapped in the night’s embrace,
A hidden prince in a hidden place.
The song ended and a chill ran down my spine at the mournful tune. This was probably the last place I would expect this kind of song to be played, but it appeared that I was the only person paying attention to the singer. Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I was about to turn around when I heard his voice.
“Enjoying yourself?” Damien came around to sit beside me.
I turned to face him and grinned. “Immensely. Why you wouldn’t allow me to come along is beyond me.”
“ That’s why.” He pointed to my cup of water. “Don’t drink it.”
I frowned, then picked up the cup and sniffed it. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Whenever women, especially beautiful women, come into The Gilded Serpent, they’re recruited, and not usually voluntarily.” He slightly raised his chin so I could see his face under his hood. “There’s probably something called maypop in your drink. An odorless, heavy sedative. With one drink, they would have forced you into a contract of servitude.”
My eyes widened as I grabbed the cup of water and looked at it again. “I was about to get roofied?” I gasped. “Son of a bitch!”
“I told you to wait for me outside, but you didn’t listen,” he growled. “Let’s go before they come searching for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I hurried to stand, not even protesting when Damien reclaimed my hand and escorted me out of the brothel.
As we walked through the Southern District back toward the Northern District, Damien still hadn’t let go of my hand. It made me chuckle. He was acting really weird lately. When he thought I was Arya, he couldn’t stand my ass, but now that he knew I was Cat, I didn’t know what he was thinking.
“I heard your song,” I said. “Back at The Gilded Serpent. The song of the Shadow Prince.”
He grunted. “Obviously, the people of Elaria don’t have anything better to do than make up songs.”
“A lot of it seemed… true,” I whispered. “Aren’t you worried the emperor might hear it?”
He shrugged. “He probably already has. Nothing goes on here that my father doesn’t know about.”
“So he knows about you sneaking around the mainland?” I questioned curiously.
He peered over at me and shook his head. “No, he doesn’t know about that part. He would execute me without blinking if he learned that truth.”
We moved silently through the empty streets, Damien's grip on my hand almost vice-like. It was strangely comforting, despite his brooding silence. The empty streets of the Northern District, bustling during the daytime, lay silent and shadowed, adding a layer of tension to our late-night journey.
“You seem tense,” I remarked, trying to pierce the quiet with a gentle probe. The dim glow from the sporadically spaced streetlamps cast eerie shadows, making the quiet more profound.
He shot me a quick glance, his face shadowed under the hood of his cloak. “When am I not?” he murmured.
“I think it's more than just a song,” I continued, not ready to drop the subject.
Stopping in his tracks, Damien pulled us into the shadow of a tall building, ensuring privacy even in the deserted street. “You’re right, Cat; it’s not just words. It’s a catalyst that could ignite a lot of unwanted attention. If certain ears catch wind of it and start putting pieces together…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair and knocking the hood off his head. “I’ve managed to stay beneath the radar, but Elaria is a fortress of secrets and lies. One wrong move, and it’s not just me in the firing line. It’s also my uncle… and others.”
“Royal Prince Bai?”
He nodded. “He has been responsible for me all my life. If I go down, he goes down with me. Any mistake I make is his mistake as well.”
I thought about the song and who could possibly be behind it. “Do you think the song came from the fae?” I asked, thinking about my own song that I was chasing after.
Damien frowned. “What makes you ask that?”
“I’ve come to learn that a lot of the folk songs here in Elaria originate with them. It’s just a thought,” I said. “I can always ask Klau—my fae friend,” I said, recovering from almost saying Klaus. Garrick told me to keep his identity a secret, even from Damien.
He shook his head. “It’s fine. In all honesty, I don’t care where it comes from; the damage is done. All I can do now is shield myself from whatever is to come, and shield those who might get hurt as well.”
“Those? That sounds plural.” I knew about his uncle, but I couldn’t imagine anyone else getting involved in his shenanigans.
“There’s you .” He nudged me against the wall of the building, caging me in.
“Me?” I gasped. “What the hell do I have to do with any of this?”
“Everything,” he whispered. “You have everything to do with this.”
With a frown, I peered up at him and placed a palm on his chest, attempting to push him away, but he didn’t budge. “Look, I don’t know if your uncle informed you or not, but the emperor made it very clear to my so-called father that neither of his daughters was to have anything to do with you. You already know I’m not from here and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize me getting back home. So that means I’m not going to rock the boat.”
He raised a brow, confusion etched on his handsome face. “Rock the boat?”
“I’m not going to stir up any trouble,” I clarified. “I’m just going to do as I’m told – within reason – until it’s time for me to go. Getting involved with you…” I trailed off.
His dark eyes glittered. “Getting involved with me, what ?”
“It can’t go any further.” I waved between us. “Working together to figure out the vampire mess is all we can do. Whatever else you have going on, that’s your own personal problem. I’ll have no part in that. I just want to make myself perfectly clear.”
I sounded more serious than I had in my life, but I had to be because my life was on the line. It didn’t matter if I actually wanted more. This emperor was no joke. I mean, the first and only time I met him, he mentioned ripping out my tongue because I got a bit cheeky. And he said it with a smile on his face. It was obvious he was not one to be trifled with. Damien was cool and all, but not cool enough for me to risk my life.
I think.
Elaria wasn’t my home. I had to get back to where I belonged. He could solve his own issues.
Damien placed his hands against the wall on either side of my head. Leaning in, he whispered, “You’re already in it, Cat. Whether you like it or not. You’re in my mess and there’s no getting out unscathed. The minute that mark on your arm showed up, your fate was sealed.”
The mark on my arm? Does he mean the stupid tattoo I got the night before the accident? What the hell did that have to do with anything?
I pulled up my sleeve and showed it to him. “Are you talking about this? Because this is just something I came up with at random. I remembered it from a dream and had my tattoo artist draw it for me.” I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s nothing special.”
“Tattoo artist?”
“Yeah…” I nodded like he was dumb. “The person who drew all these marks on my body.”
He frowned. “It didn’t just appear?”
I shook my head. “No, I had them made. It’s body art.”
“But this one,” he pointed to the tattoo he was obsessed with, “came to you in a dream?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. So what?”
“So why did you pick this spot to place the mark?” he asked, pushing for a specific answer.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “It was where I had the tattoo in my dream, so I got it done in the same spot.”
He smirked. “Exactly.”
“Exactly, what? Dude, I’m not following.” I tried to push him away from me, but he wouldn’t budge. “Move!”
“There are things you don’t know… things you wouldn’t understand,” he murmured. “I don’t have time to explain, and in all honesty, I don’t want to.”
I scoffed. “Are you serious right now?”
His expression switched from flirty to serious in a blink. “Just know that the mark on your arm needs to be hidden at all times. Don’t show it to anyone, much less anyone from the royal family.” He tipped my head up to look at him and tightly gripped my chin. He lowered his head and softly grazed my lips with his. I froze in place, unsure what the hell he planned on doing.
I would be lying if I claimed Damien wasn’t beautiful. His otherworldly beauty was borderline dangerous. I knew it the first moment I laid eyes on him. And after this moment, as my heart pounded to the beat of a thousand drums, I knew things would never be the same. I’d just gotten myself into something I couldn’t talk my way out of. My eyes widened as I stared up into his obsidian gaze that was full of wonder and loathing. I wondered if that loathing was aimed at me or at himself. Or possibly the circumstances. Either way it was there, and it was strong.
He leaned back a fraction. “I promise to not show anyone,” I said carefully, my mouth brushing against his. I refused to make him any other promises, though. I couldn’t. All I wanted to do was get back home. Falling for Damien wasn’t part of my plan. It never was.
“Good girl,” he murmured, caressing my cheek and brushing my hair back.
Those two words did something to me that I don’t think I could ever explain. I was frozen in place, swallowing tightly as my mouth dried up and my heart started to beat wildly.
That was when I knew Damien and I could never be just friends . We weren’t enemies, but we certainly weren’t friends.
Far from it.