Chapter 14
NARYA
It lay draped across his palm, the most beautiful necklace I'd ever seen.
No, not a necklace. A collar.
My heart lurched against my ribs as I looked at it. “What is this?”
I already knew what it was. What it meant. But I wanted to hear him say it. Admit he was no better than Gravyn.
He watched me with mild amusement, a smirk curling the edge of his mouth.
“I think you know what this is, Narya.”
I did, but it was no ordinary collar. Prisoners wore iron shackles. This was forged like a piece of delicate jewelry. The thin silver band gleamed with intricate red runes and a ruby moon rested at its center. A sunburst stretched behind the moon, both of them glowing.
The edge of his lips twitched higher.
“Beautiful, is it not? Now I will know where you are, what you do—what you feel,” he added with a low, vicious drawl, “every moment I let you live. Try to remove it and you’ll fail. It was forged by my own hand. To be free of it would be fatal for you.”
My eyes widened on the gem resting at its center. Then it hit me.
It wasn’t a jewel at all. It was my crystal.
The very one I’d plucked from the Tree of Stars.
“You used my own crystal to shackle me,” I whispered.
Tears stung my eyes. I closed them to keep them from falling.
Daigen caught a tear and smeared it into my cheek. “I think you’ll find you shackled yourself. I tried the gentle way. The way I thought you’d want. The way I thought you needed me to be after all you endured. But I see now… I was wrong.”
His tone softened for the briefest moment, something almost tender flickering in his eyes.
Then it was gone.
“You want me to be the monster they warned you about? The savage from your tales? Then that's what you'll get. Starting now.”
I gave a shuddering breath and looked up. His gaze lingered on the tear he’d rubbed into my skin. A crease formed between his brows, then he snapped his hand back, his glare sharpening.
“The only way of severing our bond now would be to remove your head. I imagine you’re quite fond of that pretty head of yours.
Perhaps if it had more sense in it, you’d not be in this predicament.
Such is the nature of Moonstone pride.” He pulled his hand back and narrowed his eyes into glittering slits. “Turn. Around.”
I froze, but his brow arched in warning.
“You’re my slave, aren’t you? Slaves must obey orders.”
Shame burned my eyes. I didn’t answer, but I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
I would not cry. I could endure his hate; I’d endured it all my life. But love? That could ruin me. Hatred was safer. It was what I knew.
I felt his breath on my neck as I turned, showing him my throat.
“Good slave.”
He reached around and held the collar against my neck.
It fit snugly, the jewel resting in the valley of my throat.
Warmth spread through me, the scent of magic in the air again.
My body trembled even as I tensed it. A tear slipped from my lashes again and rolled down my cheek, splashing his fingers which still touched my throat.
“Do you weep now with regret?” His breath brushed my nape, lifting the hairs all the way to my spine. “Even though you chose this?”
I shook my head, my voice breaking. “No.”
Liar, something inside me whispered.
The slight tremble in my voice betrayed me. He huffed a breath that might have been a laugh, though there was no humor in it.
“I see.” His fingers skimmed the side of my throat and over my shoulder before he pulled back. “Then let us go over some crucial points regarding your imprisonment. You—are mine. The gods forced you on me. I didn’t choose you. I didn’t even want you. Yet here we are.”
He spun me to face him, tilting my chin up with the pressure of his fingers. His eyes pinned me, dark fire and fury and something raw that looked too much like longing.
“I had no intention of bringing home a slave. When I watched them about to kill you, I didn’t care about saving your life. It was inconsequential to me. But I did see an opportunity.”
The smirk that followed was jagged and cruel.
“Then the gods cursed me. The moment I tore off that fucking mask, my crystal lit up, and I knew it was because of you. The female whose insignificant life now hung at my mercy.”
His hand ghosted up my throat in a caress. Then he grabbed me and dragged me over to the dressing table before I could resist. His eyes never moved from my own as he roughly lifted my jaw with his thumb and forced me to look up into the mirror.
His reflection loomed behind mine, monstrous in scale, divine in fury.
Fear trickled through me as I looked at us, my pulse fluttering beneath his fingers. Something ugly and familiar curdled in my stomach. The same helpless dread I’d known once before. Was this who he truly was? Had all those soft words, those tender touches, only been another mask meant to tame me?
The thought carved deeper than his touch ever could.
“You see, the gods punished me because I lifted the veil. That’s what the masks represented. The veil that separates our realm from theirs. Lifting it is forbidden. But I just couldn’t fucking help myself. You gave me a chance to lift it, and I just had to look.”
His fingers tightened, and I grabbed his hand, struggling for air.
Then, suddenly, he let me go. We both breathed hard. His chest rose and fell against my back. He didn’t step away. His breath touched my skin, searing the side of my face with warmth that wasn’t entirely cruel.
“So. Here we are.” His voice was quieter now, rougher.
“Both of us punished. Both of us fucked.” He paused, his hand curling into a fist at his side before he forced it to still.
“But this is where I will give you a choice.” He met my eyes in the mirror, and something flickered in them—anguish, fury, desire all tangled in the same storm.
“You get to decide how your time with me will be spent. Either as my queen, or on your knees as my prisoner. My slave.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing the goosebumps along my throat.
“I will give you three weeks to decide.”
I swallowed hard. “And if I don’t?”
He smiled, a slow, broken thing. “Then I’ll decide for you.”
He lowered his head, his lips brushed the pulse at my throat.
I gasped, the sound trembling through us. His mouth was warm, too warm, and then his teeth sank just enough to make me flinch. A whimper slipped free before I could stop it.
He chuckled against me. “Still pretending you don’t want me?”
I moaned as he kissed me again, and closed my eyes despite myself.
“You should hate me for this,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along the mark he left. “I should hate you more for making me do it."
I turned my face toward him before sense could stop me. “Then stop.”
His breath hitched, a sound far too human for the monster he wanted to be.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” The word left me before I could stop it.
Liar, liar, liar. The words slammed through me, clawing at my ribs.
He lifted his head. The black in his eyes fractured with light, like obsidian catching fire. For a moment he looked utterly lost. Then the mask slid back into place and he stepped back.
“Tomorrow, you will make your debut at court. I expect you will not disappoint me.”
It wasn’t a question. I could only nod, too breathless to get any words out.
His smirk told me he knew I was unravelling. That he relished it.
“Good.” He reached out, his fingers brushing my jaw gently, carefully, as if I might break. “Three weeks. Let’s see if you still want to be my prisoner then.”
Then his touch vanished. The sudden absence hurt more than his grip had.
My knees weakened. I gripped the edge of the dresser to stay upright.
In the mirror, he bent forward with an exaggerated bow, before he left the room.
As soon as he was gone, my legs buckled. I crumpled forward, catching myself on trembling arms, my breath tearing from me in ragged bursts. The mirror wavered before me, its surface blurred by tears. Red light from the runes along the collar glowed faintly, reflected in my wet lashes.
I forced my gaze upward. The girl staring back wasn’t me. Her eyes were red-rimmed and hollow. Her throat bore a band of moonlit silver etched in Bloodstone runes.
“You wanted this,” I whispered to her, pressing my fingers to the collar. “You wanted him to hate you, so you could stay safe.”
Warmth throbbed beneath the metal, pulsing in rhythm with my heart.
His magic. My crystal. Our bond.
This was the plan, wasn't it? To make him hate me so I could stay untouched by his kindness. Unbroken by his hands.
"Then why," I choked out, my throat closing around the truth, "am I still crying?"