Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
HASANNAH
I woke in a strange room. Disoriented, I flung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, darting to the door.
Unlocked. I opened it and ran down the hallway, heart pounding, barely noting gleaming blackwood floors and cream walls. I passed a curved threshold and stopped, backtracking. On one side of a spacious living room was a set of open doors leading to what seemed like an outdoor corridor and courtyard.
I stepped into the living room. Flat black walls accented in gold, a seating area consisting of a large couch, settee and arm chairs all covered in velvet green. The blackwood tables were low and square and scattered with a combination of decor and personal items. Plants and smaller tables holding tall vases were placed strategically throughout the room and as I walked towards the open doors on the other side, I glimpsed myself in gilt mirrors.
The open doors framed an inner courtyard, an outdoor corridor surrounding it in a square and broken by sets of doors.
“Lady?”
I jumped, whirled, and smacked into a wide chest. Mathen grabbed my upper arms, steadying me.
“Where am I?” I asked, my voice barely calm enough not to be hysterical. . .though hysterical was about how I felt.
I’d fallen asleep in Andrei’s arms—probably. That was the last thing I remembered. I hadn’t slept last night, and his heat had soothed me in the coach. I must have been more tired than I’d realized, unless he had some Faeish way to make a human pass out.
Belatedly, I realized I was barefoot. I’d panicked, still on the edge of sleep, and ran instead of stopping to think.
Mathen glanced over my shoulder. I twisted. The Legolas template who’d been with Andrei approached from across the courtyard. They’d changed out of the jade-green armor and were in casual wear; sleeveless tunics, loose pants. Legolas’ a brilliant blue, Mathen in russet to match his eyes.
“Lady Hasannah,” the blond said and halted a few feet in front of me.
“I’m not a lady,” I said.
He smiled though his eyes remained grave, studying me. “Are you hungry?”
“I want to go home. Where is—where is. . .Lord Andrei?”
“He was called away.”
I relaxed. “Perfect. I mean. . .never mind.”
I pulled away from Mathen, putting several feet of distance between myself and the men. They watched, hawk-eyed and deceptively relaxed, Legolas with his arms crossed, Mathen’s head cocked.
“I’m going to go home now. Um, thank you.” But Mathen was standing in the living room threshold.
Legolas sighed, lowering his arms to his sides. “Why don’t we go make something to eat? We didn’t expect you to sleep this long.”
“No!” I cleared my throat. “Thank you for, uh, your hospitality, but I want to go home.”
Legolas curled a lip at me as if he thought I was funny.
Mathen sighed. “Lady, our Lord requested you remain in our care until he returns.”
“I’m a prisoner?”
“A guest,” Legolas said smoothly. “A hungry guest.”
“If I try to leave, are you going to stop me?”
They said nothing.
I wrapped my arms around myself, blinking. “Why? What did I do?”
Mathen turned to Legolas and spoke sharply in Cassanian. Legolas retorted, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I told him she’s awake,” he said, “he’ll come as soon as he can.”
Legolas strode towards me and took my upper arm, gently tugging me past Mathen. I inhaled, angry, and jerked away from him. His hand tightened.
“I’m not in the mood for a romp,” he warned. “We’ll make dinner and eat and when Andrei is home, he’ll explain your new living situation.”
I had brothers. I let my body go limp. He cursed, halting. It was either that or dislocate my shoulder dragging me.
“Gently,” Mathen snapped. “Let her go.”
“If she runs, you get to chase her down.”
“What the devil do you mean my new living situation?” I demanded.
The blond grimaced at me. “Do you like pasta?”
“I don’t want dinner! I don’t even want explanations, I just want to?—”
Legolas stepped close, lowering his face to mine. “You aren’t going anywhere, girl. We’ve been charged with keeping you put, so accept it.”
“What gives you the right to—” I stopped.
Andrei. High Lord.
“Exactly,” Legolas said. “Welcome to House Casakraine.”
“You were nicer in the movie,” I spat, and turned to Mathen, looking up at him with big eyes. “Please.”
He blinked at me, shook his head. “I—I can’t.” He frowned.
“Please.” I stepped closer, placing my hand on his chest. “Please take me home, Mathen.”
Another long, slow blink. “All. . .right. . .I’ll take?—”
“Are you mad?” Legolas said. “He’ll take your head. What’s wrong with you?”
Mathen shook himself, stepping away from me. “I’m sorry, Lady.”
“You come on.” Blondie grabbed my arm again.
“Let me go, Legolas!”
He halted. “What did you call me?”
My cheeks warmed. “I mean—forget it.”
Mathen began chuckling. “Legolas?”
The blond turned to me, glaring.
“I just, I don’t know your name, and your hair. . .” I waved my hand up and down. It was loose rather than bound back in a tail.
He lifted a pale brow. “You like my hair?” Legolas glanced at Mathen. “The mortal women have a thing for this Legolas, right? I remember that movie. It came out a few months ago.”
“Um. . .it’s been about twenty years,” I said.
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Same thing.” But he smiled at me, relaxing abruptly. A mischievous, masculine smile. “So. . .you like a man with long blond hair. Too bad for Andrei. Short and emerald-black isn’t your thing, darling?”
“His name is Constin,” Mathen said, voice dry. “And he’s clearly neither vain nor a flirt. You were going to feed her? Or seduce her?”
“There will be no seducing,” I exclaimed. “One of you is enough. ”
“We’ll see,” Constin murmured, but turned and dragged me into the kitchen.
The massive kitchen—someone liked to cook. Or eat.
He shoved me in a chair, bared his teeth at Mathen who’d barked at him again to be gentle, and stomped to the cabinets and began pulling out implements of torture—a large pot for boiling pasta and a colander. Then the ice box and pulled out a paper wrapped ball revealed as a mound of dough, setting it on the counter.
. . .they were too fancy to eat boxed spaghetti. Why was I unsurprised.
“I’m not eating pasta,” I said, folding my arms and sinking into the chair. “I can’t carb load right now. I bloat.”
“He told me you’d say that,” Lego—Constin said. “Do you want me to tell you what he said in response?”
“No. Because he’s not the effing boss of me.” Neither of us had to specify the he, of course.
Constin laughed. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. You’re the trouble that boy deserves.”
Mathen slid in the chair next to me and smiled. “A little, Lady? And how about a salad to go with it? I can mix an olive oil and vinegar dressing.”
I gave him a sideways look. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”
“So she can cooperate,” Constin muttered. “Shock me dead.”
“Or you could let me leave,” I muttered back.
He slammed a sauce pot on the stove.
“Why are you so agitated?” Mathen asked him. “We didn’t expect her to go along with this easily. There’s no cause for your temper.”
Constin stilled, and I heard him take a deep breath and release it. “You’re right.” He turned halfway to glance at me. “My apologies. We’re all a bit off balance right now. Andrei is at Court without me, and I don’t like that either.”
“Why aren’t you with him then, Constin?” I asked, ignoring the word Court.
“Well, Hasannah, because I’m babysi?—”
“It is our Lord’s will,” Mathen said. He rose. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“I don’t drink,” I said. Paused. “Yes, please. Thank you. You know what, maybe bring the bottle?”
We ate, Mathen keeping Constin and I from each other’s throats, though I kept my hostility confined to polite passive aggressiveness. I wasn’t actually trying to provoke a fight. I’d lose, since walking away wasn’t an option. For now, I had to bide my time.
“When will he be home?” I asked for the fifth time, glancing towards the hallway. We’d moved to the living room where they watched me pace.
No response. I was learning they wouldn’t answer the same question more than twice.
“I have rehearsal in the morning,” I said, my agitation growing. “Am I going to be confined then too? What if he doesn’t come back tonight?”
“I will escort you to the Arts building,” Mathen said. “I promise you aren’t a prisoner, Lady. Why don’t you try to sleep? You rose early.”
“I don’t want to sleep.”
This wasn’t in my plan. Attracting the notice of a High Lord, agreeing to a. . .whatever this was devolving into, getting kidnapped. If he could get away with this, what else could he get away with?
I turned back to Mathen, widening my eyes with a plea. “Mathen, please?—”
Constin turned toward me slowly, eyes silver steel. He’d been staring out at the courtyard, arms folded. “Lady Hasannah. Begging is pointless and beneath the dignity of a High Court consort. Andrei is our Lord, and we will not disobey him.”
Ugly anger rose in me. “If he told you to—to chop off my feet, would you do that too?”
“Yes.”
I reared back. He continued watching me, and some of the flatness in his eyes softened. “This is not Earth realm. This is?—”
“I know where I am.” A sharp quality in the air warned me he was reaching the end of his tolerance. I had been curt, and they were only doing their job. I lowered my head. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
A moment of silence. Mathen said, “It’s difficult for you, Lady. Don’t trouble yourself.”
I nodded, not looking at them. “Can I go outside? In the courtyard?” I couldn’t sleep, so I’d do the next best thing, dance.
“Yes,” Mathen said.
“I need my shoes.”
Mathen brought me the flats I’d been wearing. I slid them on and went outside, testing them on the smooth stone surface with a pirouette.
And then I danced.
And danced.
Danced away my confusion, abandoned fear and frustration. Drifted in the warmth of the satin rising in my blood.
“Lady,” someone said. “You need to rest.”
“How long has she been dancing?” A female voice, a murmured masculine reply. “Damn. She crazy?”
Constin tried to intervene. Once.
Pain seeped through my muscles. I was overextending, but I couldn’t stop. This was the only thing that kept the shadows away. I stopped long enough to take off the shoes. It wasn’t enough. I needed to feel ground beneath my feet. I needed. . .needed something.
So empty.
So hungry.
My life was unraveling, but this couldn’t be taken from me.
This was mine, unto death.
Distantly, I worried. A toenail cracked, and someone exclaimed about the blood. Mathen tried to grab me mid spin and I jerked my head up, stabbing him with a glare.
“ Go. ”
He fell away.
“Hasannah.”
This time, I stilled. That voice wouldn’t be ignored. I came back to myself enough to realize my breaths were coming in harsh, fast pants, and sweat trickled into my eyes. My feet. . .I looked down and closed my eyes, mouth thinning. I’d take care of them before I slept. This wasn’t the first time I’d?—
“Hasannah.”
I looked back up at the Fae Lord approaching with slow, silent steps. The moon, high in the sky, cast his pale skin in an otherworldly glow, his dark hair wild around his shoulders.
“Lord Andrei.”
He wore a long brocade duster in sapphire blue and gold, and I glimpsed pants and heeled boots underneath. His fingers were ringed in gold, tiny hoops winking at his ears.
“Come inside now, Hasannah,” he said in a soft voice meant to cajole a small feral animal.
“Are you taking me to my apartment?”
“No.”
I turned away from him. “Then I’m going to dance.”
“Consort, your feet are bleeding.”
En-pointe already, I lowered back down, arms falling to my sides. “I know.”
He circled in front of me and slid his fingers under my chin. “You’re upset.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“Your former dwelling is unsafe for you now. You’ll remain here with us.”
Deflating under his steady, unblinking stare, I lowered my eyes. “I don’t want to stay here with you.”
“No?” He shrugged. “In time, you will. And I promise, you’ll want to reside in a Coal District rathole even less once my enemies become aware of your existence.”
I gave him a small, bitter smile. “It only took you twenty-four hours to upend my life.”
“Not an entire twenty-four,” was the even reply. Andrei lowered his head slowly, broadcasting his intent.
I stiffened, pulling away from him. “Fifteen more minutes.”
When I glanced at him from halfway across the courtyard, he hadn’t moved. “Are you trying to punish me?” he asked.
I frowned.
He glanced at my feet. “Your injuries make me unhappy.”
Oh. No one had to tell me Andrei, unhappy, would be sure to distribute the misery. He didn’t strike me as the suffer alone in silence type. “I dance when I’m upset.”
Eyes dark from the night remained inscrutable, his expression alabaster remoteness. “Fifteen minutes, Hasannah. And I will not tolerate this behavior again.”
I danced.
But with him present, it was. . .different. He added a new heat to the air, a shimmering of power and silent, pressing need that demanded my attention. He pulled at me the way I pulled at everyone else. A new wildness rose, my endless empty need coalescing into a creature who turned to him and wanted .
So she would take.
I swayed towards him. “Are you mine?”
He could be mine, the way dance was mine.
His eyes flashed, then darkened. “You know I am. Am I enough, cygnet?”
“I need.”
“What, Hasannah? What do you need?”
I could take him, drink him down, and he wouldn’t tell me no.
“Everything. I am. . .starving. Dance with me.”
But my time was up. Andrei approached, arms snatching me out of the air. “No more, little dancer.”
He set me on my feet, hands grasping my shoulders.
“No,” I breathed, leaning against his chest, “let me dance. Dance with me.”
Eyes on mine, his grip on my shoulders loosened, hands sliding down to my waist, his eyes dark with the same need unfurling in me. He cupped my bottom, pressing me against his hard groin. The part of me alarmed by his touch faded under the part of me drowning in hunger.
I smiled, lifting my arms over my head and called up music, the notes flooding my mind and traveling along our. . .bond. . .until he heard its song, until he began to sway with me.
I spun away from him, ignoring my abused toes, ignoring shrieking muscles, bathing in the moonlight and the glitter of his eyes as he flowed towards me, sensual mouth soft with a dreamlike smile.
“Moon nymph, from where do you hail?” he murmured. “You take my breath and balance and leave me with nothing but longing. The ground rises up to throw me to my knees at your feet.”
I laughed, delighted by the courtly compliment, and began a pas de deux from Swan Lake. I let him catch me again, his hands on my waist as he responded to the pictures in my mind, let me dance, let me play, let me seduce.
He chased, but when he caught me the next time, he lifted me into his arms, striding towards the open double doors.
“Andrei.”
“You need to rest, prima,” he said, voice deep and quiet in the night. “You’ll dance your toes to the bone if I let you. I am learning who you are.”
I settled my head on his shoulder but sated, didn’t protest.
“And I think,” he added as I heard a door click open, “that you are a touch other than merely human.”
I sank into sleep.