Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
MAX
It’s days later when I’m taken from the dungeon and up into the dizzily, grand Black Palace. A place of nightmares and forbidden secrets; a place that no Witch would dare enter, and I’m walking these dark halls, mouth agape, eyes wide.
This is it. They’re finally bringing me to Zelos. I’ve push the heir too far and he’s giving me to his father for world domination.
I inhale, preparing myself. It’s not the first time I’ve wished for some kind of weapon.
But the minutes tick by as I’m led through these maze-like halls, the black granite floors under me a sea of glass. The walls are painted a lighter hue, with rich silver framed priceless art passing me in a blur. This palace is grand but haunted, wealthy but meant to evoke fear instead of awe.
None of the six guards explain where I’m going or why, as they surround me and lead me through the corridors. Heavy chains still bind my wrists, but the guards don’t hold me. Zeke is the only one who sticks to my side, arm slightly behind me, as if to halt me from running.
I would, if I could.
Soon, I’m deposited in front of a pair of big black doors, the panels etched with some beastly scene.
Peering closer, my breath catches. Dark Fae. It’s them from legend, who they used to be. Nessa would describe them to me—seeing how the Dark Fae used to be, fierce, war-like, seemed to be one of her few truths.
I look at the gnashing, pointed teeth and the powerful arms holding weapons above their heads. It’s a battle of some kind, with blood dripping from their fangs and etched into the wood with harsh lines. But before I can study more, the door opens and I fall back, startled.
The heir stands on the other side, dressed far too simply for this palace.
His black tunic is loose around his throat, the strings hanging against his glistening pale white skin.
His trousers are dirty with red sand, smeared onto his knees and his weathered boots.
Sweat drips off his chin, gluing rogue locks to his cheeks and neck.
He looks spent, wild like his ancestors, and my stomach twists along with the devious thoughts shining in his eyes.
He was either training or spent time rolling around with someone outside. I’m not fond of the curdle of jealousy swirling in my gut at the insinuation.
“Go,” he commands, ignoring Zeke’s warning glare. Only he seems to get away with doing it to the heir.
They disperse quickly, leaving me in the threshold, alone.
Kaden steps away, and I scan the dark room behind him not bothering to move.
If I thought my chamber in the White Palace was full of wealth and impressive size, then I was mistaken.
This room, decorated with plush ruby couches, soft, padded chairs, and a massive black stone fireplace screams prestige and power.
Dark art lines the wall, more images of Dark Fae but they’re more subdued, hidden by shadows.
They don’t appear as ferocious as the doors, but mournful images of forlorn Fae looking for answers. It keeps the room feeling heavy and somber more so than ostentatious.
It's reflective of the owner of this room.
Shaking my head, I ignore the pang of sympathy, the urge to understand him. No. I will not feel anything for the man who stole me away to his lands and who took my choice from me. Who bound us together without my consent.
When I wait too long, his shadows curl around the chains, tugging me forward as my knees slam into the tile. Pain radiates up my shin, but I bite my lip to keep from yelping.
He doesn’t move. Just watches as I wrestle with my body. Apparently, we can’t physically harm the other, but using magic is fair game.
What I wouldn’t give for my magic. Just one clench of his heart so he remembered who I am.
“You had the same look on your face when you entered the throne room to receive Griffin,” Kaden recalls, turning to fetch a spare rag. He dots his brow, staring at me. “Do you remember that day? I certainly do.”
Cracking my jaw, I glare. “I try to forget the first time I met you, heir.” I wish it were true—I replay the moment I met his eyes, when my instincts knew he was dangerous and I ignored it, intent to figure him out.
Gingerly, I stand, legs shaking, keeping close to the exit.
He may not be able to kill me, but that doesn’t mean I’m perfectly safe either.
That wicked face grins. “So, we’re back to heir now.”
“As we will remain.” The chains clink as I move one more step, the fire burning into my side.
Sweat wets my upper lip and I’m intimately aware of how poorly I look compared to my surroundings. My nails are chipped, painted black from mud as I tried to claw my way out, and the rags I wear are grimy. Black hair falls in greasy strands across my shoulders.
I look as if I’ve been living in the forest for months, and I smell no better.
“You could try my name.” Those burning eyes watch me unabashedly, tongue licking his bottom lip. “Or love. I’m partial to that.”
Snorting, I look away, choosing to stare at the jumping flames than him. “Pet names for someone I despise seems idiotic, don’t you think, heir?”
“Then how about husband?” He’s taunting me now. I’m going to stab him the first chance I find a weapon. Not enough to kill, but a maiming should be nice.
“Maybe I’ll kill you before the wedding?”
“And die along with me?” He cocks an eyebrow, eyes laughing. “If you kill me, I’ll wait at the gates of Seti’s home for you, Max. You cannot escape me.”
Clenching my jaw, I choose to ignore the lick of pleasure his possessiveness draws in me.
Growing up in the Blackwoods Coven, no one ever wanted me—desired me. I felt abandoned; always the outcast. It was a dark dream to wish for someone to claim me, to take me as their own because they could not bear to be without me. I practically begged the Gods for it.
This is a cruel joke by Fate, to be given what I want by someone like this.
“What is this place?”
“Our sitting room.” He doesn’t stop looking at me, and I shift, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. “Through those doors,” he directs, pointing, “is our bedroom.”
“You can’t expect me to share a room with you.” My tone suggests he’s insane. Because clearly, he is.
Just this morning he placed me on his lap, shoving bread and jam down my throat while his arm pinned me to his chest. He can’t think I’ll want to be near him after all that?
Those dangerous eyes turn black as his shadows leap from his body and I tense. “I expect many things from you as my future queen. Sharing a bed is the least of it.”
“Don’t queens get their own space? I demand my own rooms.”
“So that you can miss me while you sleep?”
My nails cut into the palms of my hands. “Maybe I want to take another into my bed? Don’t queens have lovers?” I glance once more to his unkept appearance, the flashes of him rolling around with another female appearing in my mind.
It’s been weeks. I’m not delusional to think he wouldn’t have found company with someone else during those long days. He doesn’t owe me loyalty—in fact, I’m very certain he doesn’t know the meaning.
But the idea that someone else has touched what is mine stirs jealousy so deep, I have to fight the urge to cut his heart from his chest.
He smiles like I’ve told a joke, eyes alight with deranged humor. “Queens might. But not you.”
Before I can say something else, he closes the distance. Wrapping one hand around my throat, he pulls me against his chest and I freeze—body fighting the urge to flee and to melt into his embrace.
“If I find someone else in your bed,” he begins, words deliciously dark, “you’ll find their head at your feet come morning.” He plucks my bottom lip. “Don’t test me, kitten.”
Footsteps echo behind us as he throws me back like a forgotten doll, my chain rattling as I steady myself.
“Ah, good.” He waves the newcomers forward. “Take the future queen to bathe and change.”
“Excuse me?” My eyes bulge out of my skull. What in Cella and Ger’s name is going on here? A servant puts her hand on my shoulder as I bat her away. “I can bathe myself.”
“Queen are expected to be served.” His nose wrinkles looking to my clothing. “I don’t need you looking like an inbred Witch before important members of the Dark Court.”
“No one serves me,” I argue, feet skidding against the floor as another servant pulls me closer to the bedroom. It’s no use, these Dark Fae are stronger than me and I trip over my feet, stumbling to catch up.
He grabs my arm, wrenching me close, whispering, “You can either go with the servants, Max, or I can bathe you myself. The choice is yours. Personally, I wouldn’t mind touching you without clothing in the way.”
By Cella’s graces, bond be damned, I’m going to kill him.
“Get fucked, heir,” I growl, shoving him away. My face heats and I ignore how my body trembles at his words. “Release my chains and let me bathe in peace.”
He chuckles, fingers twirling as he commands the shadows to break the lock. The weight slips away, puddling at my feet. Rubbing my red and sore wrists, I glare at the asshole.
“Make sure you allow them to scrub everywhere, kitten. We have dignitaries and lords arriving to prepare for talks of strategy and battle, and I need you looking every bit the capable mate I’ve made you out to be.”
I ignore the hint of pride in his words. There are Fae kingdoms coming to use me to control the world and he’s going to parade me around them. Tonight.
My stomach rolls in unease and disgust as I push pass the heir, seeking comfort and privacy away from him. He has other plans.
Latching on to my arm, his fingers dig into the sensitive part of my inner elbow.
“Listen well, Max,” he rumbles. “Your chains are removed, but you are not free. You will never be free of me. Do not attempt to run. Do not attempt to hide. I will find you. And I will bring you back.” His fangs glint, lowering his head so our eyes lock.
“And I will make you suffer for thinking you can rid yourself of me. Do I make myself clear?”
The conflicting emotions muddle my brain, as the bond flares to life in my chest. Whimpering from the pain, I jut out my chin in defiance. “There’s not much else you can do to me, heir. Not that you haven’t already done.”
He broke my heart, obliterated my trust, kidnapped me, and claimed me against my will. How else could he hurt me?
Kaden smiles cruelly, and I brace for what’s next. “She’ll dress in the bedroom.”
Seething, I rip my arm away. “You do not get to dictate where I dress.”
He grabs my wrist before my finger pokes his chest. Emotions pass over his handsome face, twisting it into something horrific but he hides it all away quickly.
“You’ll realize, kitten, in this castle, I can do whatever I want with very little consequences.
If I want you to parade naked in the great hall, I will.
If I want to watch maids touch your skin and dress you in jewels, I will. You’ve yet to realize my power here.”
“And you’ve yet to realize mine.” My body tenses as he leans closer, inhaling at my temple. I sway, craving his heat and touch, even as the anger inside me builds.
Smiling against my head, he whispers, “I look forward to seeing it again. Now…” He shoves me toward the bathroom. “Make haste. We’ve an audience to receive and I’m in the mood for a show.”
The bastard smirks as the servants haul me back into the washroom. All of them remind me of Fee with tall, willowy bodies but strong hands. They don’t let me argue, taking the heir’s word as law, before stripping me of the ratty clothing and throw me into the bath.
I want to fight, to hate this. I am no simple maiden, used to being cared for or served. But the hot water feels so good against my tired, filthy skin. I haven’t bathed in weeks.
Groaning loudly, I open my eyes just as Kaden leans against the doorway, smug smile firmly in place.
Soon, I’ll cut it off, soul-bound be damned.
“If I knew giving you a bath would get those noises from your lips, I would have done it sooner.”
Flipping him off, I turn my back to his chilling laugh.