Chapter 14
LET ME GO
Ican’t stop thinking about that kiss.
Once we start traveling again, we kind of come to a quiet agreement not to mention it. Basically, that means that I pretend it didn’t happen, and once he catches on, Thane is careful not to bring it up.
Hours pass. It’s still daylight, and we’ve already stopped to fill our canteens twice.
Before I woke up this morning, Thane instructed Binx to watch over me, then walked along the main road until he found a traveling baker willing to sell him a loaf since relieving the other male of his wares…
yeah. Not a good idea when the queen’s guards were patrolling this part of Noctavara, searching for a shadow demoness traveling with a fae bandit.
The bread was delicious, though it left me thirsty, and I drank more than I should’ve.
Which, of course, meant that I needed to pee. Badly.
In Sombra, we have facilities inside of our homes.
They work by magic, where you eliminate your waste into a shadowy hole that disappears it before you wash your hands in the water tube.
In Noctavara, you find a quiet corner of the woods and pray none of the fae critters are watching as you lift your skirts.
The first time I had to go was so awkward, I held it until it was damn near bursting. So many moons into our journey, all I have to do is signal to Thane that I need a little privacy, and he just reminds me to take Binx with me.
As though my soul-pet would listen to me if I tried to tell him to stay with Thane.
I do pass him my sword for safe-keeping. The last thing I want to do is pee all over the metal, and gods forbid I cut my cunts as I squat. I don’t even know if that’s possible, but if it is, you can be sure that Alana of Sombra will figure it out.
So I move further from where he’s waiting for me, putting enough distance between us that he won’t have to listen to me piss out in the open. I’m used to Binx being right there, even if my ungez knows better than to get in the way.
Once I’m sure that Thane can’t see me, I lift up what’s left of my skirts, squat low, and do my business. The whole time, I’m telling myself that everything will be fine. It’s midday. We haven’t seen a single soul since the close encounter with the queen’s guards. The woods are eerily quiet—
A hand clamps around my arm.
My scream catches in my throat as I’m yanked backward, slammed hard into a tree as my skirts flutter down to cover my cunt. The rough bark of the golden trees bites into my upper arms. Something sharp presses into the side of my neck.
Godsdamn it! It’s another sword!
“Quiet,” a voice hisses.
It’s not Thane. I’d be furious if he caught me off-guard like that to engage in more sword practice, though I’d get over it. But it’s not Thane, and it isn’t just the harsh edge of that voice that tells me so.
The male who grabbed me is definitely fae, but something about him is different. Unlike every other fae I’ve met so far, he has no hair. His eyes are a deep bronze shade, his too-slender body wearing a pale brown tunic.
“Alastor,” he calls, raising his voice and giving me a touch of hope that Thane could hear him. “I’ve got an outsider.”
From behind, another fae male appears. This one has dark curls like Thane, and he’s wearing a tunic similar to the fae with the sword at my throat. So does the third male that appears who has to be slaver. They’re probably all slavers.
And how do I know? Because the third fae male is carrying a length of gold chain with match shackles at the ends.
“Well,” he whispers, his voice too lyrical for the hungry look in his pale amber eyes. “Look what wandered off the main road just in time for us to find her.”
My shadows curl around my boots, flaring instinctively, only to stutter. I haven’t senses any movement from them in so long, hope blooms inside of me at the idea that I could create a portal and escape this, but like always, the magic is dampened.
And I’m trapped.
Again.
I know he told me to stay quiet. The sword at my neck is good enough of an incentive to do what I’m told, even if that goes against my nature. But to be trapped… again… I can’t stop myself.
“Let me go,” I snap, trying to yank free while avoiding the point of the sword.
No use. The hand on my arm tightens, grabbing me and shoving me back in place. Pain sparks down my back, and I spit out a Human curse.
“Got teeth on this one,” the second slaver says, laughing, though I doubt he understood what I said. “Pretty, too. The Court will pay for pretty.”
Glaring at him because he’s the only one I can see from this position, I bare my fangs.
That… was a mistake.
I’m not wearing any glamour. When we’re alone, Thane removes it, and since I do feel better without it weighing me down, I’m all for it. We didn’t expect that I would go off to pee and run into slavers so, obviously, my horns are visible.
They may be tiny, but they’re there, and as the stink of sour wine hits my nose, I realize that the slaver holding the sword had leaned in to get a better look at me.
His eyes widen, and he lets out a crowing sound. “Oh, ho, fellas. I think we hit the jackpot.” He moves the sword a little closer. “It’s her.”
No. No.
“Who?” I ask, doing my damndest to bluff. “Because I’m no one. Just a halfling trying to make her way through the woods—”
“With this beast?”
My heart nearly stops to see the second slaver holding Binx up by his tail.
His fury and pain at being held like that slams into me, and if I wasn’t intimately aware that one wrong step would have that second prophecy of Mom’s coming true instantly, I would’ve dove at the slaver to get him to drop my ungez.
Not Binx. Threaten me all you want, but not Binx. Come on, bud. You got this. Get away from them. Get free.
For a heartbeat, he hangs, limp, appearing harmless. In the next, Binx flips himself up, digging his claws, his fangs, every part he can into the slaver’s hand.
On an oath, he drops Binx.
Go, Binx, go!
He listens. Though I know he wants to attack the slaver holding the sword, my soul-pet is smart enough to realize that we’re outnumbers. Three against two doesn’t work.
But three against three when our third is a fae bandit with a sword of his own?
I know where Binx is going. He’s getting Thane. At this point, I don’t even care that I’m the damsel in distress who needs to be rescued. He’ll come for me. Right? He promised.
The slavers, though, have no idea what’s waiting for them.
As the one with chains moved closer, chiding the second slaver for letting Binx get away, I realize that they must’ve just taken their own fae portal back into Noctavara just in time to stumble upon me at my most vulnerable.
They weren’t tracking me, and they don’t seem to know Thane is nearby, which makes it obvious to me that they think they got very, very lucky.
And that’s my second mistake. Focusing too much on where they came from, I forgot why they would’ve captured me in the first place—until the heavy gold shackles clasp on my wrist, the length of chain connecting them together.
In the next moment, the first slaver takes his sword back.
Before I can even think of escaping, he kicks my knee, sending me falling to the dirt.
The third slaver snags the chains, pulling my arms taut.
His buddy replaces the point of his sword, only he has it directed at the front of my throat this time.
Still holding the sword, the first slaver crouches in front of me. “Look at those eyes.”
They’re dim. I know they are. Glowing gold eyes would always tip the fae off that I don’t belong, so while Thane uses glamour to hide my horns, I’ve done my best to make my eyes look as dead as Mom’s.
I can’t change the color, though, and considering every fae I’ve seen has eyes that are in varying shades of amber, mine definitely stand out.
He reaches toward my face, intent on touching me.
I twist away, spitting. “Touch me and I’ll bite your fingers off.”
He laughs. “Play with me, demoness. You won’t like how I play back.”
Now that he’s not complaining over how Binx attacked him, the second slaver stalks over, nudging my hip with his boot. “What do you think? Should we gag her before bringing her to the caravan?”
“We can.” That’s the third slaver, the one holding the chains. “Though there’s something else I’d rather use her mouth for.”
My stomach flips so hard, I nearly vomit. I may be an innocent when it comes to mating, but I’m not that innocent. I know the mechanics of the act… and I know how much pleasure a female can give her male when she takes his cock in between her lips.
Screw that. If he tries putting his cock anywhere near me, I’ll bite that off instead.
First, I try bluffing. Best thing about being in a world of fae who can’t tell an untruth? They never know when I’m lying. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not who you think I am.”
One of the slaver’s leans in, as if he can’t resist sharing a secret with me. “Yeah? Well, the queen says you are. That the seer’s have foretold it. And, know this: the prophecy doesn’t lie, demoness.”
There’s goes any of my bravado. Just hearing that word… prophecy… no. What? Prophecy? No.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I whisper. “There is no prophecy about me.”
No. There’s two.
“Oh, I do know.” The first slaver straightens, giving the third one a signal to tug my chain so that I’m hauled to my feet while he still holds his sword.
“We’ve brought enough cursed things to the Court to recognize the stink of fate.
Besides, everyone in Noctavara knows about the Prophecy of the Gilded Throne. ”
As they force me to get up, I stumble, boots catching in roots, breath ragged, arms aching—and none of that matters because if everyone knows about the Prophecy of the Gilded Throne, then Thane knows about it, and if he thinks it has something to do with me…