Chapter 7
Kaden
The ballroom builds with sweltering heat.
Skirts lift and flap, sharp plucks of harps and the simple beat of drums have the entire rooming spinning, couples dancing. There are laughs and shouts of joy. Wine is poured freely.
Compared to Fae balls, this is… tame.
But I see what this mockery of a ball truly is. It’s the calm before the storm, a way for Griffin to appear the savor as he displays his wealth and makes false promises to endear him to the masses.
Similar to what my father does.
It’s all such a fucking farce.
And yet, I’m here, drinking his horrible wine, nodding to lords who would wish me harm. I chose to be here because as terrible as this situation is, I wasn’t lying to my father. This is the perfect excuse to figure Griffin out, find his weakness and attack.
Once entering these halls, my siblings and I have been to work.
Fee hunted the corridors, mapping the layout, searching for escape routes.
Reid searched for information or correspondences of what weapon Griffin held.
As the only Human to be this powerful he must know something—have something that gives him this kind of power.
Because of my curse, my senses are better than my siblings and I’ve kept my ear open to the Humans, listening in on their gossip. Any little tidbit, or clue, I’ve heard, kept close, a trunk full of secrets to use at a later time. But nothing on Griffin. Yet.
Ironically, they have much to say on my kind since we arrived. Do they not realize that though they may see us as the monsters, who haunt these halls, their men are the despicable ones? They chain their women into servitude.
Dark Fae don’t hold the same prejudices against our females. Both serve together, both tend and cook. It’s rare for a Dark Fae male to strike a female. Nylxa above would never allow their creations to be treated as such. Not as if anyone would know, no one trusts us to hear about our ways.
Dropping the empty chalice to the table, I gesture for another, eyes scanning the room once more. It’s habit, to always know who is in the room and find the threat before it finds me.
Across the way, I see the tall Blackwoods Witch, the only male present, get yanked on by twin blonde Human females. Dressed in glimmering blue, they look like glittering gems compared to his dark looks.
I don’t trust him. Taylay, being a Witch already bothers me, but he is from the Coven that has continuously refused trade with us.
If not for the wards preventing our arrival, I would go in person to force the matter.
It’s because of their standing that the other Covens do not trade with us—which means my people suffer.
If my prejudice is large, theirs is greater.
Gulping the wine, I watch as the twins pull him to the dance floor.
Behind him is the woman who has captivated me since my arrival.
When I arrived, my mind whirled with possible needs: entryway points, weapons, routes and guards stationed should things go south.
But when I locked eyes with those oceanic blue orbs, the thoughts stopped.
Everything quieted. It was as if she laid a blanket of calm over my mind and withdrew the air in my lungs.
As that has never happened to me before, it’s made her… intriguing, to say the least.
I don’t know what to make of it. Make of her.
The Witch reluctantly goes, pulled into a complicated dance that has his partners laughing. He spins the twin girls, and they move further into the crowd, leaving the woman alone.
Growling under my breath, I drop the chalice with a solid plop. For Bel’s fiery sake, what is he thinking?
This place is not safe for females: Witch, Fae, Human, or other. In this court men rule, and women are thought of as little more than stock. Like that of a cow to be milked or a sheep to be shorn, they serve only one purpose—to be used by men.
Glancing to the Blackwoods Coven guards stationed at the back, I bite back my insults. They’re old, uncomfortable in their armor. Are they guards or Witches pretending? They’ll be of no use in helping the woman.
Fee adjusts next to me, her gown tight and uncomfortable. She grumbled the entire time changing, our rooms connected by one sitting area.
My eyes cut to her. “What?”
“This place. It doesn’t feel right.” Her mouth barely moves. “And it’s too hot. My skin feels like it’s on fire.”
“You always feel like you’re on fire,” Reid quips, earning a quick slap from our sister. Placed between us, she has full access to hit either of us. “It feels good in here. Like home. Maybe you’re just getting old and can’t handle the temperature change?”
My brother is almost a century younger than Fee and I, making him so much more immature and innocent. Unlike him, we were trained to be warriors since birth.
I was beaten into submission. Fee was tortured into it. By sheer luck, our father ignore him.
As such, I raised Reid, training him the proper way. He’s adequate with a sword, but better with his daggers. Because of that, I’ve earned Reid’s loyalty. And I’ve earned Fee’s due to shared trauma.
It’s why both of them were chosen to attend with me. That and I don’t trust leaving them behind at the palace without me there to protect them.
“What have you heard?” Fee asks, kicking our brother. Wincing, his smile doesn’t falter. He lives to irritate her. “From the crowd?”
“Resentment, hatred. The usual disdain.” My eyes find the woman again.
The purple she wears gleams against the firelight, highlighting her thick curves and wide hips.
But her lips? They’re a spot of red against a creamy white face.
It’s the kind of face armies would be sent to war over.
“What do we know about the Blackwoods Coven?”
She snorts. “Not much. They keep to themselves. They rarely trade and they don’t speak to Fae.
Most of the Covens hide among their kind.
Their ruler, Nessa, died three years ago and the daughter took over.
People consider her to be a strong leader, though brash.
Her brother holds no power, but due to being a twin, is considered the second. Everyone says he defers to her.”
“I wonder what that’s like?” Reid quips, earning a reproachful glare from Fee.
“There’s rumors that the brother can heal with touch,” Reid continues, calling over a servant. He winks when she places a new cup in front of him. “They say his hands can mend any wound.”
I tilt my head, mind spinning even as my eyes stay on the woman at the outskirts of the dance floor. Magic? No one has magic in this world.
Well, no one except for me.
The woman shifts again, nursing a chalice, eyes darting to the large fireplace by her side. She keeps away, sidestepping it, as if the flames will leap out and take her into the hearth.
But I see it—the fear in her eyes. It taints the air as I inhale—deliciously sweet, though curious. What does this delicate kitten have to fear from the flames?
Then, as if a torch as been lit, she stands taller, spine straight. She gives one final glance to the dance floor, watching her companion tower over the crowd before she strides toward a door.
A servant’s entrance that I only discovered hours earlier, she all but throws herself into the hall, the door shutting behind her with a silent finality that causes my jaw to clench.
On fucking Bel’s fiery balls, she can’t be this stupid. It’s too dangerous here for females to be without escorts and she just delivered herself to a male on a silver platter. Does she have no self-preservation skills?
Fuck, I shouldn’t care that she just ran away. She’s not my responsibility, but something compels me to notice. To care. And I hate it.
Standing abruptly, my knee smacks into the table, knocking our glasses over. Azure above, give me patience.
“Where are you going?” Fee asks, eyes darting from me back to the ballroom. Griffin enters, people cheering and bowing before his feet. He acts like some benevolent leader, bestowing them with his presence.
Maybe to his court he is. To me, he’s an insect ready to be squashed.
“I need air,” I ground out, eyes never leaving the door. I grip Reid’s shoulder, mouth lowered to his ear. “Watch her. She doesn’t go anywhere without you.”
He nods resolutely as I leave, Fee cursing me out as I weave through the crowd. My sister is a warrior, better trained than my guards, but I don’t trust this court. I sure as fuck don’t trust their king.
I made that mistake once. I won’t again—not with my family.
Stopping at the door, I look back, glaring at them both, a silent message to stay.
My gut twists. I should stay to protect them both. But an invisible thread is pulling me toward her and I have to see it through.
I need to understand her—figure her out. How could something so small, so tiny, rob me of all thought and steal my logic?
Walking into the hall, I see her against the back wall, head crushed into the stone, arms at her side. Eyes closed and mouth parted, she looks as if she’s in prayer.
A silent goddess with blood-colored lips, she could crumple men with just a look and it’s then, something shifts inside my heart. A lock opening, a pop within my chest. A claw of longing so powerful clamps around my throat, fumbling my steps as I stare, pulled close to her.
My air gets trapped in my lungs and it’s a battle just to inhale, my beast yowling in my head as if he too, is being suffocated.
What is that?
Startling blue eyes look my way, and that breath exhales, as if pulled into her gravity. She is the sun and I’m drawn to her like the ground beneath our feet. I want to understand her, figure out the puzzle that is she with such a fierceness that I’m floundering for words.
What magic has she cast on me?