Chapter 35
D rip. Drip. Drip.
It was the sound that roused her. Then came the damp feeling. She was in a cave.
When her eyes opened slowly, it was to velvety darkness except for the candles strewn around the ground illuminating pockets of yellow light. Her arms would not move; they were tied behind her.
A figure in black made its way toward her.
“Wake up.”
She was slapped across the face.
Unperturbed by the attack despite her current predicament—her assailant had a weak hand—she turned her head back around to meet whoever greeted her in such a rude way.
She recognized the face as the female she had seen in the study, if only just briefly before getting knocked out.
Petite, dressed in black leather, white hair long on one side and shaved on the other, with a black dagger in her hand, casually showing it to Aelrie along with a not-so-casual murderous gleam in her eyes.
“I hate you,” the Dark Elf spoke in a low voice. “I want you dead!” Her voice rose to a yell, and the dagger, clenched in her hand, was held low at her hip, pointed at Aelrie.
“Sister, behave yourself.” A male Dark Elf appeared behind the female. His voice was the same as the one she’d heard in the hall, and he too was dressed in black leather with half of his hair long and half shaved, but on different sides from his sister.
They were twins.
“But! She was the one with Shikra.” The female turned to her brother to protest.
“Mistress said to keep her alive. You’d just end up killing her. Besides, I want to play with her a bit.” He turned his attention to Aelrie after he said this.
They were younger than her, and this, coupled with their less than intimidating presence—bickering in front of her like children—quieted her fear and agitation after waking up in this dungeon.
What harm could they really do to her?
But there was something about the wickedness in the male’s deadpan glare, cloaked somewhat by shadows, that induced an involuntary shiver.
“Fine, Falco. I hate you for this.” The sister sounded like a brat. She then stomped off and left. Aelrie could just make out stone steps cut from the rock that led out of the cave through the candlelight.
Turning back, the brother still stared at her with that impassive look on his face. This “Falco” was not quite still a teenager, but not much older than one either. He was barely out of childhood; she did not fear him and held her head up high to prove it.
He made deliberate steps closer to her. The flat part of a dagger touched her cheek once he got close enough. But she just stared back at him, not responding to the touch of the cold blade on her skin.
“You’re lucky you have me instead of my sister; otherwise, you’d be dead by now.
” He used the dagger to turn her face around so he could inspect it on all sides.
“She is jealous by nature and tries to kill all his lovers. You should’ve heard how mad she was after she came back from Sintal and told us how she’d witnessed Shikra walk out of a tavern with a filthy Ljósálfar. ”
She hardened her expression, but Falco did not care; his face remained as impassive as ever as he examined her. “But she is stupid, blinded by a love that doesn’t exist.” He removed his dagger from her face.
She thought the show of intimidation was over until his leg knocked her knees apart, and he came up in between her thighs, moving himself closer to her. “That’s what Shikra did, right? Got you to spread your legs? He’s good at that.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. For a brief moment, the Dark Elf finally cracked a grin, but it faded as soon as it came and did nothing to comfort her, wicked as it was.
She’d been taught what to do when interrogated during her soldier training.
Stay calm, don’t withhold but don’t spill everything, value your life, and tell as little as you can to survive.
Earlier, while he’d been speaking to his sister, he said they were told by their “mistress” not to kill her.
If she could believe that was the truth and not a lie.
Even so, she didn’t like the evil look in his eyes. It unnerved her.
“I’m not his lover.” She looked down, not willing to say more about that.
Her top was ripped off her. Gold beads went flying as it flung to the ground. She was topless, her breasts completely exposed. Shock could only register for a second before his hands wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up at his blank face again.
He squeezed harder.
“Don’t lie to me. Bad things happen when you lie.” His voice rose slightly.
Her voice caught in her throat. His grip loosened, but barely enough for her to make out words.
“We … had sex, but… I am not his lover.”
She didn’t want him to know how close she’d gotten to Fyn, but she had to tell him something. If she passed out from him choking her, it would not kill her, but it was hard to consider that with his hands wrapped around her throat.
“That is what a lover is, is it not?”
She relented, nodding as much as she could with his hands still on her neck.
He released his hands and stood back. “See, you could’ve just said ‘yes’ and spared yourself the dignity.”
Her chest heaved. He watched it rise and fall with an unreadable look on his face. Revulsion pushed up her throat. How sick was he?
He then tilted his head, still staring at her. “Why did you come here?”
“I came here …” She paused. She had to give him an answer, but how should she answer that?
His hand cupped under her breast, holding it up.
“Hands off me …” Her words started strong but trailed of f.
The sharp end of his blade was set against her nipple, one deep breath away from slicing it off.
The blade then lay flat on the skin of her breast. The cold sensation sent a chill down her spine.
“Think very carefully,” he said with a slither, leaning closer to her face until his nose almost touched hers. “About how you’re going to answer that.”
How dare this little shit touch her! She was furious, but the dagger on her breast quieted an outburst. No rash movements. He was too sick and unpredictable. Her training never went over how to deal with this kind of depravity.
“I came here to find Shikra.” It was a lie, but one he wanted to hear.
Her pulse was frantic as the blade rested on her breast. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slower than her pounding heart.
He then released the dagger and stood up straight. His red eyes narrowed as he assessed her. Giving nothing away, she lowered her head in a show of defeat.
He moved in closer to her again, spreading her legs out wide as he leaned forward.
The dagger pressed between her legs, against the most sensitive part of her body.
The flat blade gave an icy touch through the flimsy material of her skirt.
In a breath, the blade turned, its sharp edge dancing against her clit.
She let out a whimper.
“Shh, shh, shh.” He hushed her. “Look at me.”
She looked him in the eyes. Red, like Shikra’s, but so different. They were hard to look into. There were no tells of emotion in them .
“Very softly, for any sudden movement might move my blade. Tell me who you are.” His voice, almost a caress, was barely above a whisper.
“I am … Aelrie Everstar. I was … the personal guard to the high priestess.”
He withdrew his blade, and she started breathing again. He still stood between her legs, though.
“The Ljósálfar Shikra was sent to kill? The mission he just came back from.” Falco didn’t need an answer to that. He was mulling it over to himself.
“Oh,” he then sighed, and his impassive eyes found hers again, but this time they held the tiniest bit of humor. “This is about revenge.”
She nodded emphatically.
“You’re Shikra’s lover, yet you came here to kill him?”
She nodded again.
“But why not kill him during or after sex when his guard would be down. It’s what I would do. And remember, there are many of your lovely body parts I can cut off without you dying.”
A lie came out quicker than she could form in her mind. “I had to get him to trust me. I wanted the surprise, wanted it to be when he least expected it. I needed to see it in his face. The betrayal would kill him first before my blade ended him.”
This wasn’t the truth, at least in her current frame of mind. Though the thought did poke at her now that she’d said it out loud, and as much as she hated to admit, enticed her even now .
“Oh, I like you.” A smile was now fully evident on his face. She much preferred it the other way. This was worse, creepier.
He turned and picked something up from a distance. When he walked back, he held a collar and leash. “Come. It’s time you met the mistress.”
He kicked the chair out from under her, and she landed sideways on the ground.
The stone was hard and unforgiving, as was her interrogator.
A leather collar tightened around her neck, and a quick jerk brought her up to her feet.
As he pulled on the leash, she stumbled forward, hands still tied behind her back.
Not giving the leash any slack, he led her up those stone-cut stairs, and she had to fight to keep her head held high.