Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The golden cuffs around my wrists bite against my skin.
Or more precisely, the magic within me.
It's a horrible sensation, somewhat akin to being dumped in a swamp absolutely teeming with midges, and try as I might, I can't Sift.
"Are you done?" asks a cool, demanding voice.
Slumping against the chair I'm bound to, I look up at the speaker.
Prince Keir paces in front of me, and he looks furious. If he had a tail I'm fairly certain it would be lashing behind him.
"Nice chains." I shrug. "Chair's a bit hard though."
His golden eyes narrow to thin slits. There's no more pretense of hazel in them, and it makes me a little nervous for he no longer looks entirely fae. It's like the glamour he wields can't quite hide what's stretching beneath his skin.
And whatever it is, it looks like a predator.
"You'd prefer it if I tied you to the bed?"
I glance at the mess of silk sheets, and the knife still lying on the floor. A shiver runs through me. "No. No. Chair is fine."
"Good choice." This time his voice drops several octaves, practically humming with power.
He lashes out with his fingers, and half a dozen rips suddenly appear in the sheets.
"I dislike being played for a fool. Who are you?
" he demands, in a silky, dangerous tone of voice.
"Because I'm fairly certain you're not Merisel of Greenslieves. "
Excellent guess, Your Highness.
"Not quite."
"And that was your… sister?"
Who has left me to the prince's mercy without a backward glance. "One would think we owned such familial ties, but I think I got the lion's share of all the best traits."
"Honesty?" he purrs. "Loyalty? Compassion?"
"I did try to warn you."
If anything the words only seem to make him angrier.
"Is this a good time to remind you that I did just save your life?"
"Perhaps you'd be wiser to keep your damned mouth shut," Keir growls. "Considering your sister just tried to put her knife in my heart."
"Well, if you hadn't had your tongue halfway down her throat, I daresay she wouldn't have gotten close enough to try."
He pauses, looking momentarily interested in the bite in my tone. "Jealous?"
"Very," I snort. "Why wouldn't I want a male who's fool enough to fall for a simple glamour and a few pretty words, no doubt?"
His eyes narrow. "The low neckline might have had something to do with it. I was distracted. And her eyes were definitely saying yes. I thought you'd changed your mind."
"Even better. After everything I've said, you thought I'd finally fallen at your feet?"
There's a growl in his voice. "She was very convincing."
Males often want what they can't have. No doubt Soraya used it against him. A little resistance, and then she starts to soften. Starts to fall for his charms.
It's an old trick that's won my way through many a locked door in the past. Show a man you simply can't resist him, and his ego does the rest.
I'm not sure why it bothers me so much.
Keir flips the blade, and snatches it from the air. "Goblin-forged blade. I assume these runes down the steel mean it can cut through any ward?"
"Any ward," I say, with a sigh. "Any armor. Any flesh."
"So she meant to kill me."
Admitting it will probably not go well for me.
I press my lips together.
"Ah, you think you can hold out. I can wait for the truth," he purrs, grabbing another chair and hauling it in front of me.
He straddles it backwards, resting his forearms on the chair back.
"It won't take long for those cuffs to eat their way through your glamour. You can already feel it, can't you?"
I shift uneasily. The itch is definitely getting stronger.
Is that…? Shit. There's a faint, luminous glow to my hands.
And I'm not the only one who's noticed.
"Interesting," says the Prince of Dreams.
Only, this time I'm convinced I'm in a nightmare.
"You glow," he muses. "Very few creatures glow. I think the truth of your nature is not so far away, after all. You could simply tell me. I might feel more merciful."
There's no love lost between the Seelie and the Forbidden. If he realizes what I am, he'll have my head on the next pike.
"What if I make a deal?" I blurt.
"A deal? Go on?" he purrs. "What could you possibly give me that I can't take?"
"Information. You want your relic back? I can tell you everything."
"And in exchange?"
"You can't kill me. You can't harm me. You will forbid your men or anyone in or at the court from harming me."
"Or I could wait," he replies eyeing the faint glow creeping up my arms. "It looks like it won't take long now."
Sweat trickles down my spine. "I could get the Dragon's Heart back for you."
At this he pauses. His eyes meet mine. "What makes you think I can't get it back myself?"
"Because if you do so, it means war. You'll be challenging a dangerous court. A powerful king."
"Will I?" There's a distinct lack of concern in his voice. "It wouldn't be the first time. And it won't be the last, no doubt."
There has to be something he wants.
"A king," he muses. "There are very few kings in the realm.
And few with the balls to challenge me. King Angmar is currently underwhelmed.
Something about a missing trident, according to his dear sister, Ismena.
He needs this match, so he won't risk a direct confrontation.
King Jor is tied to the seas. King Mordred might be ambitious enough, but he's crossed me before.
The Horned King hasn't been seen in centuries.
And every other king is controlled by a queen. "
Do not react.
"But there's one king I'm forgetting, isn't there? The King of the Frozen North. The King Beyond the Shadowfangs. The Master of Bone and Darkness…. They say wraiths glow in the night." He eyes my arms.
"They say they are monsters, too. What monster could hide itself in fae flesh?" I can't control the bitterness in my voice.
"That is the question." He flips the knife expertly in his fingers. "So the Wraith King sends a pair of assassins to my court."
"I'm not an assassin."
"No?"
I clamp my teeth shut.
His eyes narrow. "A thief then. And considering your sister stole the pretty charm around my throat, I assume you were after that."
"Shouldn't you be going after my sister?" I ask in exasperation. "She's the one who stole your relic and with every second that passes she'll be getting closer to the portal."
"The portal's closed. It has been ever since you arrived." Muscle flexes in his powerful forearms as he leans closer, the chair tipping onto two legs. "The only way anyone gets in or out… Is if I let them."
"You don't know my sister. She has a turnkey portal she stole from a blood-witch years ago. She'll be able to steal her way home, without having to use your portal. How do you think she got out of this room?"
"How did you get in? You appeared out of nowhere."
"Magic," I whisper.
Keir eases out of the chair, his bare feet padding toward me.
Every inch of me is alight. There's no hiding it as he tips my chin up, the knife still curled in his left hand.
"A very rare, ancient magic I haven't seen in thousands of years.
I knew a male once, who could walk the shadows.
" He tips my face from side to side. "And yet you glow with the Forbidden's curse.
An intriguing conundrum, for you're far too pretty to be wraith-born, yet you're not entirely fae, are you? "
"Why the fascination with me?" I snap. "You might have paid me lip service in the past, but don't pretend it was more than that."
"When you simpered and flattered me and skirted the truth like a court princess sweeping her train out of a pile of vomit?"
"Sorry," I drawl. "I was trying not to capture your attention."
"You nearly succeeded." His golden eyes are strangely cloaked. I can't read the expression on his face. "But you did. I would have made you my queen."
I close my eyes. "I think you wanted to be fooled."
"And I think the only time you weren't lying to me was when you told me you liked me."
"It was just a ploy." I make a sound of exasperation, because it's better than letting the conversation venture into such dangerous waters. "Anyone would think you didn't give a damn that you just lost a powerful relic."
"But did I?" His smile turns dangerous. "What makes you think your sister managed to steal the real Dragon's Heart?"
My gaze jerks to his. "What do you mean?"
"The real Dragon's Heart has the power to create an Other World. The power to destroy the real world. Do you not think I would have given chase if what she stole was more than mere gold."
"It wasn't in the treasury."
"No." Again, another smile. His eyes seem to glow from within. "Nor hanging around my neck. Guess again, little thief."
Calliope's words bite through me again. Her absolute insistence she needed to eat the prince's heart to transform.
I'd thought her mad.
I'd thought her stories were just that.
But it suddenly occurs to me: What is the best place to hide a relic of such immense power?
You twist the tale. Change the story. The Dragon's Heart. It's been right there in front of me the entire time.
Nobody knows what truly happened to the dragons—the stories are lost to history—but I know they slowly faded from the world. Some say they turned to stone, some say they sought the stars, and some say….
"What are you?" I whisper.
Again, a faint mocking smile. "You're not the one asking the questions."
But his eyes glint gold—dragon gold—and I can't help remembering the other part of the stories. Dragons are invulnerable. Nobody knows how the ancient fae defeated them.
But what if the stories lie?
What if there was no defeat?
My gaze slips to his opened shirt, and the hard planes of his chest. He admitted he created this Other World himself, and I'd assumed he used the relic to do it, but if I'm right then he would have the power of such creation at his fingertips.
Mother of Mercy.