Chapter 15 Quentin
The conversation with Archer must have brought more peace than I realised because I woke to a thin stream of light piercing me through the gap in the curtains.
With heavy muscles, I pushed myself out of bed and opened the curtains fully, allowing the full force of the sun to stream into the room.
Elysia was made for sunshine and peace. But in the distance, something caught my eye.
I noticed a darkening on the horizon brought by heavy clouds.
The sight of it stirred unease in my chest. I’d never known it to rain here, but I’d only been part of this world for a minuscule amount of time.
For now, I’d take my lead from Archer and be patient while he spoke to Tobias and checked Teixeira’s lab for the oleander.
If Archer made good on his word, in a few days’ time, I’d be working my way towards freedom.
The thought alone was enough to buoy me.
Who knew what would come after I rid myself of Hunter?
One thing was for certain—Elysia would no longer be my home.
Strangely, that thought placed some weight on my chest. My time in Elysia was short-lived compared to my time on Earth, but something about the heavens called to me.
The beauty of it never failed to take my breath away.
The way Gray’s house had recognised me as his bound and allowed me to make my mark there.
That it was a part of me and I belonged here just as much as I did in London.
As sad as the thought of being exiled from Elysia made me, I would welcome that option over being sentenced to death.
It was the option that I would offer to the rest of the residents once the deed was done.
I’d tell them I wanted nothing more to do with them.
That I was happy to return to Earth and never darken their doorstep again.
It wasn’t like I could just whisk myself back here.
Controlling my aura to that extent was still beyond my abilities.
Taking the cue from my rumbling stomach, I walked downstairs and into the kitchen.
“Good afternoon, Quentin,” Hunter greeted me, causing me to jump. “I see you slept well. I’m glad to see that you’re feeling more comfortable in your home.”
My home? The thought was laughable. I wouldn’t even classify myself as a guest, but as a prisoner.
It was the first afternoon that I’d seen Hunter at the house, casually sat in the kitchen.
He never did anything casually. He was always wound tight.
Always on edge. Always ready to strike. The house was just another prop for him to make people believe he was the doting leader and perfect family man.
The scene was so domestic it was jarring.
A cup in his hand, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, papers across the counter.
He leaned against the worktop, surveying his work, and only looked up when I’d appeared.
The facade he usually put on was securely in place.
An aura of softness laid over the usual animosity, but I caught the tightness in his jaw and the twitch of his fingers when I stopped in the doorway.
My hesitancy didn’t play into the games he orchestrated and that irked him.
Why would I play the stupid charade when there’s no one here to witness it? I thought to myself. The answer made my stomach churn, and the bile threatened to rise.
This was an arrangement that held nothing more than political ambition on one side and no choices on the other. If Hunter was suddenly after something more, then I was in much more trouble than I’d anticipated. And I already knew that he didn’t know how to take no as an answer.
“It’s typical for a wife to respond to her husband when he greets her,” Hunter gritted out, unable to stop the tendrils of his aura from creeping out around him.
“Afternoon,” I shot back quickly as a phantom pain throbbed in my cheek. It took all my self-control not to raise my fingers and press the space the bruise had occupied yesterday afternoon.
Just like that, the blue disappeared, leaving the natural light of the day to filter through the French doors.
The brightness that I’d noticed in the bedroom had dimmed, as the sky was taking on a reddish tinge.
It looked ominous. Like a warning. The clouds that had gathered on the horizon continued to look heavy, and I wondered if we were in for a storm.
“I have some news for you,” he said. His eyes remained focused on me, and I knew better than to make any sudden movements. “I’ve set a date for our wedding.”
Nausea rolled harder, and I gripped the doorframe to steady myself. “When?”
“This evening.” My eyes widened at his announcement.
“Don’t look so shocked, Quentin. I cannot trust you.
The sooner we solidify this union, the sooner I can push forward with the rest of my plans.
It would have been sooner if you’d been awake.
” He pushed himself away from the counter, collecting all the papers and shuffling them into a neat pile.
“Mabel will be here soon and will help you get ready.”
My brain kicked into gear. “We haven’t had an engagement party.”
Hunter gave a snort. “I already told you, I hardly care for the trivialities.”
“But you know everyone else cares. You said it yourself. You want to feed them the delusions so they buy it all.”
“They’ll buy what I tell them. A whirlwind romance that culminated in a brief engagement. I’ll regale them of tales of how we couldn’t wait. You have your dress, so why prolong it?”
“I was engaged to Gray a few days ago. No one is going to believe this. That I fell out of love with my bound and just decided that I was in love with you enough to get married. It even sounds like madness.”
“None of that is my concern. What they think about you behind closed doors doesn’t matter to me. They’ll eventually learn that you’re a useful tool if they don’t already know that. They’ll herald you purely because I say so.”
Whenever I was stuck alone with Hunter and these conversations unfolded, the feeling of panic rose hard and fast. He’d mapped out the rest of my life and I had no say in the matter.
No escape route. The onset of anxiety made my tongue and fingers numb.
With Herculean effort, I reminded myself that I needed to breathe.
That when Archer knew the wedding was happening, he would find a way to stop it.
To hurry his process along and find what we needed.
Until then, I would stall as much as I could.
“We’ll show them just what you are capable of. That you can get the mortals to praise us so that there are no more issues with our existence.”
“I’m not going to be the saving grace of Elysia,” I told him, barely keeping the scoff out of my voice.
“But you are,” he replied. “I’ll train you how to use those powers of yours to get the mortals to fall in line. You are exactly what all of Elysia has been waiting for.”
The weight of his plans settled on my shoulders.
Hunter wasn’t just planning to use my gift to help him manipulate the Gods.
He wanted to help me manipulate mortals.
Ig had once said our types of gifts were the most dangerous, but I never grasped how dangerous they could be.
Hunter was going to leverage my success as his own and everyone else wouldn’t have a choice in their participation.
“For both of our sakes, I would advise you not to do anything stupid, Quentin.” Hunter stopped in front of me and I tipped my chin to look him in the eye. “I need to run a few errands before tonight. I won’t be long.”
He used a hand to push me aside, and I stumbled over my feet. My appetite had vanished, and I watched as he walked down the hall and out of sight.
Pacing around the kitchen, I thought about Archer and tried my hardest to summon him, but the minutes ticked by and I remained alone with nothing to do but wait for my fate.
A few hours later, I heard the door slam downstairs, and I walked out of my bedroom.
“Quentin!” Hunter’s voice boomed through the space.
I hurried my pace towards the steps, but as I descended them, I slowed. I expected to see Mabel waiting there with him, but instead, he was flanked by Tobias. The God of agriculture was exactly how I remembered him. Tall and slender, with his glasses sitting askew.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Hunter said, uncaring about how I had stalled.
My blood ran cold. Hunter only changed plans if he knew his original one wouldn’t work. Earlier today, he had been certain we’d be getting married. He’d mentioned Mabel. And now we were standing here with a glorified gardener and Hunter looking like he could kill.
“What do you mean?” My eyes kept flicking between the pair.
“We’ll not be getting married tonight,” Hunter said. “You’ll be taken home. Tobias will escort you.”
“Home?” I repeated, trying to catch up with what was going on. “Why?”
But Hunter was done with me. “Return her home and then come straight back here. Understood? I’ll be in the square making the announcement.”
“What announcement?”
It was no use. My words were being drowned out by the sound of thunder cracking overhead. This was nothing like what I’d heard before. The sheer power of it made my ears ache and my head pound.
“Understood,” Tobias answered Hunter meekly.
He strode towards me with a weak smile as he grabbed my wrist. I didn’t fight him.
“Hunter?” I asked, looking over to him, but swathes of green the colour of fresh grass were beginning to obscure everything from sight.
The familiar drop in my stomach ran through me as I was transported away from Elysia, and as Tobias’s aura cleared, my room greeted me.
It was no longer a dream, but a part of my reality again.
However, it didn’t offer the comfort I thought it would, thanks to the circumstances that brought me back to it.
“It’s best for you to stay here,” Tobias told me, releasing my wrist. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before we come to get you again. It’ll probably be soon, but just in case. Wouldn’t want to do anything to anger Hunter any further.”
He turned away from me and his aura began to protrude from his body, but I grabbed his arm. “Tobias, please. What is going on? Why has Hunter suddenly sent me home? I didn’t think I’d see this place again.”
“It’s the best place for you.”
“No. It’s the best place for me to be to make things easy for him. We both know he doesn’t do anything that doesn’t benefit him. So, what is it? What has he got you involved in?”
The look on Tobias’s face hardened and one green tendril shoved me away until the backs of my legs hit the bed and I fell onto it.
He left me with his parting words. “Some of us never wanted a war, but Grayson forced our hands.”