SEVEN #2
My lips curved numbly up even as my feet stumbled. If not for his hand pressing bruises into my flesh, I would have found myself hurtling toward the floor. Something that would surely draw the crowd's eyes.
I couldn't quite decide if that would be a good thing or not.
On the one hand, I knew I definitely didn't want the Unseelie King's attention on me. I didn't want him finding me. I didn't want him to know I even existed.
On the other, though, what reason would Jet have for being honest with me?
Wouldn't it be a smart move to try to gain my trust by creating fear regarding his own father... and then drive me right into him?
My thoughts were shooting off in a dozen different directions, making it hard to seize onto one, let alone come to a rational conclusion about it.
So I let myself be pulled. Down past the triceratops, out into a corridor.
Even as we went to turn the corner and get out of sight, I saw him.
Cass.
And them.
His guards.
My blood turned cold in my veins, making the hairs on my skin prickle, making my flesh break out in goosebumps.
"Head down," Jet demanded again, voice tense even as he dragged me down a hall, looking around quickly, then opening an employees-only door, and pulling us both inside.
We were surrounded by darkness for a long moment, a blanket of black that let my panic be hidden, let my trembling be my secret alone.
But there was the scratching sound of skin running across the wall, a flick, and the room bathed in light, piercing to my eyes, making them squint for a long moment, unseeing.
But as soon as they adjusted, I saw him.
The future Unseelie King.
My betrothed.
Jet.
I hadn't seen him up close.
My parents, technically Light, had no reason to be seen associating in the Dark Court, let alone cozying up with the King and Prince. Whatever their dealings, they had done them undercover.
I had seen a slight glimpse of him as he climbed out of the carriage pulled by centaurs and satyrs, but had only made out his pale skin and dark hair.
Up close, he was lovely to look at.
The kind of handsome that most young women would count themselves lucky to be betrothed to, even if it was against their will.
At least he was young and handsome.
You could have just as easily been traded like chattel to someone old and wrinkled, skin thin, hair gray or nonexistent, that perpetual scent of decay clinging to their skin.
I guess I was lucky that my mother chose Jet.
Then again, even if he was old and decrepit, if he was the next in line to the throne, she wouldn't have cared about my disgust.
It was really just happenstance that he was lovely.
Tall, lithe, with the aforementioned strong jaw, severe brows, straight nose, and almost haunting honey-brown eyes.
I had seen those eyes before.
They had stared at me across a table for tea at my parents' compound.
Cece.
His half-sister.
"You're hurting me," I told him, proud when my voice didn't shake even if my body was trembling slightly.
His brows drew low, looking down at his hand, making mine do the same, both of us watching as his fingers lessened their grip before finally releasing me entirely. Long blue marks marred the flesh already, likely to darken as the night went on.
He didn't apologize.
I wondered if he even knew the definition of the word.
"Why are we hiding in a broom closet instead of being escorted back to the Dark Court?" I asked, lifting my chin, refusing to cower even if my body was still betraying the depth of my fear of my possible fate.
To that, he snorted. "I am a lot of things, Amethyst," he told me, rocking back on his heels.
"But I am not stupid. Nor am I desperate.
You don't want me. I have no use of some starry-eyed virgin who wants cuddles and happily-ever-afters," he told me, lip curling at the very idea of being stuck with me.
And, as ridiculous as it was since I had no interest in him at all, my ego took a small hit at that.
"You're good-looking enough, but I can't have a woman moon-eyeing me. I have important shit to do."
"Wow. You're so charming," I drawled, shaking my head, thankful that he didn't want me, that I wouldn't spend my life shacked up with some, well, asshole.
"We're both dodging a bullet by hiding in a broom closet," he told me, voice final.
But there were too many questions left unanswered to stay silent, to accept what he had given me as the whole truth.
"You said you weren't stupid," I reminded him, backing up into the wall, aware of the pole to my side, attached to mop, no doubt, but big and heavy, something I could use to defend myself with if necessary. "How so?"
To that, he snorted, leaning back into the wall nearest him as well, arms crossing over his chest as those freaky eyes stayed fixated on my face.
"When my father told me of our... betrothal," he said, spitting the word like venom from a snake bite wound, "it got me wondering. Why you? You're Light. You're lacking any skills to speak of. Your lineage, while decent, is certainly not worthy of royalty."
"I get it. I'm beneath you," I shot back, annoyed, words sharper than I had ever heard them on my tongue.
"Exactly," he agreed, shrugging. "My father is nothing if not opportunistic, cunning. Your mother seems cut from the same cloth, so surely you know what I mean."
"I do," I agreed, a bit frustrated that there was any kind of kinship between us.
"It didn't take more than a moment or two to put the dots together. Care to prove you're not utterly useless and come to the same conclusions yourself?"
My spine stiffened at that.
Sure, he was raised as royalty, he was aware that as a future king, he could do or say anything he wished.
But that didn't make it okay.
"In case you weren't aware, Jet," I started, voice cutting. "This is not your kingdom. I am not some peon you step on for fun, who you can belittle to prove how big and mean you are. Watch how you speak to me. You might be bigger than me. Stronger. But I have a hell of a lot more to lose."
"Are you threatening me?" he asked, brows drawing down as though he almost couldn't process that information.
"Yes."
"With a mop?" he asked, lips twitching, seeing where I was standing.
"A mop, sure. Or that piece of steel to my other side."
"Interesting," he said, nodding, almost sounding impressed.
"I underestimated you. I won't apologize.
I don't apologize. But I will attempt not to condescend to you.
Unless, of course, you prove too stupid not to put this little puzzle together.
The one where we stand off to the side in our wedding finery with our parents smiling in satisfaction.
Not for the marriage, of course, but because they both got something else they wanted. "
This was a test.
And, sure, I owed this man nothing.
But I still somehow felt as though I had something to prove.
Maybe because he had pressed his cruel fingers into a very sore spot.
My so-called uselessness.
My lack of skills.
My utter unspectacular-ness.
Maybe I was not graced with powers, but I was not stupid.
Why did his father want his son to marry the likes of me?
His only son.
His only heir.
Oh.
"Cece," I told him, feeling a bit of pride as he nodded slightly.
"What about Cece?"
"She's the heir. And she is powerful. A child of both Courts. If she could be persuaded to your father's side, the balance would tip entirely to his side. He would have all the power in the realms."
"Precisely. And how do you play in?"
My saliva went bitter in my mouth, hard to swallow. "I'm the bait." There was no question about it. It was the only thing that made sense. "He wants to use me to draw out Jasper. Who would then bring Cece with him. Then he could capture them. Brainwash Cece. Kill Jasper."
"And you," Jet piped in, making my stomach swirl. "You'd be useless. Wedded and bedded and disposable, easily replaceable."
"You'd let your father kill your wife?" I asked, whatever bit of kinship or even begrudging respect that had been building evaporating at the very thought.
"Wife," he spat, shaking his head. "Just a title, Amethyst. You're speaking as though you'd have captured my heart when I got between your thighs. Make no mistake, babe, I don't have a heart."
"Clearly," I grumbled, not even able to make eye-contact with him.
"No one is taking my throne from me. Especially not a sister who doesn't even want it. I have earned the title. The Dark Court will be mine. So this plan of my father's can not come to pass."
"He will be looking for you," I told him in case the idea hadn't occurred to him before.
"Which is why I am going to head back out there, find him, and steer him back toward the dinosaur you were standing beside for so long. While you sneak out some other way. Go home. Pack. Leave. And this time, don't leave a fucking trail of breadcrumbs leading right to you. What were you thinking?"
"I didn't leave..."
"A note?" he cut me off.
My stomach dropped at that.
"You should have known better," he added, tisking his tongue at me. "Innocents having to lose their lives because you needed to be loved so badly."
Oh, God.
No.
Had I freed him only to be the reason he was dead?
My heart shrank, dried, splintered at the thought.
"Mourn later," Jet demanded, pushing off the wall, moving toward me, hand moving out to snag my chin, dragging it up.
"Survive now." His voice almost seemed to lose its edge, its coldness for a second.
"Maybe I don't want to marry you and become your widower, but I like your spirit, Amethyst Winters.
I'd kinda like to know you were still around in the world.
Even if it is in this hellhole of a human realm.
So go. Start over again. Never try to reach out to your family.
Unless you want everything to fall apart. "
With that, he released me, moved to the door, and threw himself outside without another word.
The tears stung at the backs of my eyes. What was left of my heart crushed to dust.