Chapter Five #2
As we enter, the conversations quieten in an instant, and many of the patrons turn and stare. Heller quickly ushers me into a dark booth at the back.
“I’ll be back in a second, I promise.”
I feel uncomfortable as the Fae continue to stare and whisper, but true to his word, Heller is back in a flash with two slopping tankards of brown liquid and a wide grin on his face.
As he sits, the bartender gestures to the gathered Fae. The buzz of conversation rises, and they go back to whatever they were doing before we entered.
“I had a word with Ned, the barman. Assured him we didn’t want any trouble, just out to enjoy some good company and debatable Ale.” He grins, picking up a tankard and taking a long pull of his drink. When he puts it down, froth coats his upper lip and I giggle at him.
“Is that what this is?” I ask, looking down at the frothy liquid in the tankard Heller has placed in front of me.
“Try it. Get through the first bitter taste, and it gets better. After three or four, you kind of forget what you are drinking anyway.” He chuckles, wiping the froth from his upper lip with his shirt sleeve.
I take a sip and nearly spit it back out over him as the bitter taste hits my throat. He laughs, and we fall into an easy conversation. I love hearing him talk about his work with the horses, and I mainly listen, asking the odd question here and there.
He tells me how his favourite horses have been recently—that the chestnut mare Clover has been stubborn refusing to stand still for saddling and the old grey gelding Hercules has been having difficulty eating.
His eyes light up when he talks about them, and I can hear the genuine affection in his voice.
I feel the Ale warming me from the inside out, loosening the tight knot of tension I’ve been carrying in my chest. My shoulders drop, my breathing slows, and for the first time in ages, I don’t feel quite so isolated or alone.
There’s something comforting about this moment—the simple pleasure of conversation, of being heard, of connecting with another person without pretence or pressure.
“It’s getting quite late, can I walk you back?” Heller asks as the tavern is emptying out.
I’m shocked that I had been enjoying myself so much I hadn’t noticed how late it was getting.
“Sure,” I reply as he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the door, tossing Ned a quick wave as we leave.
“So,” he says once we’re outside, swinging our joined hands between us. “Scale of one to ten, how much did you regret coming out with me out tonight?”
I laugh. “Maybe a three at the start. Negative five by the end.”
“Negative five?” His grin widens. “That’s basically saying you owe me another night out.”
“That’s not how numbers work.”
“It’s exactly how numbers work,” he insists, squeezing my hand.
As we round the corner of a building, we hear shouting and laughter.
“Oh Gods …” Heller sighs, nodding towards a group of three men coming out of the building in front of us. “Looks like he’s been enjoying the pleasures of Madam Eden and her girls.”
Being held up in the centre of the other two Fae males, Prince Kiernan is staggering towards us.
My heart drops into my stomach as he looks up, his eyes unfocused until he realises who stands in front of them.
“Alaya?” he slurs, standing up a bit straighter and shrugging off the two Fae beside him. A flash of something suddenly changes his features into a hard tightness as he looks between Heller and me. “What are you two doing out together?”
“Just been to the tavern for a few drinks,” I reply. “You were the one that suggested I let my hair down a little.”
“Is this the bitch you’re being forced to marry?” one of the Fae asks. He’s tall, well over six feet with short brown hair, a menacing glint in his dark purple eyes. “What’s she doing holding this idiot’s hand?”
“So, Alaya has a little boyfriend.” Prince Kiernan scoffs, his lip curling in a mocking grin. “I wonder if he’ll have better luck prying her legs open than the rest of the Thorn Court.”
The atmosphere chills. Heller doesn’t move, but his hand gripping around mine crushes with bruising pressure, his pulse thrumming violently against my palm.
“Come on, guys, we were just out for some fun like the rest of you. I’m walking Alaya back to the castle.” He drops my hand, puts his arm around my waist.
As we turn away, I hear a low growl from behind us, and Heller is wrenched away from me.
“Keep your filthy hands off her!” Prince Kiernan yells into his face, and as I stand there staring in shock, he throws a punch into Heller’s face, catching his nose, which explodes with blood and sends him sprawling to the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shout, trying to go to Heller, but a rough hand jerks my arm. The other Fae with Prince Kiernan, equally tall as the other, with long black hair, blue eyes and broad shoulders, holds me back.
The Prince kicks out at Heller on the ground, his black boot crashing into his stomach. Heller lets out a cry as he curls into a ball around the pain. He looks up towards me, blood spread over his face and terror in his eyes.
“Run, Alaya,” he mouths.
I look between the three Fae males and quickly jab my elbow back into the stomach of the Fae holding me. He lets me go with a wail, and I run.
We are nowhere near the castle yet, and my sense of direction is muddled with panic.
I run blindly, anywhere away from them. My feet pound the packed earth and my legs start to tremble as I dart in-between two houses down a long-shadowed path.
As I come to a dark stone wall and a patch of bare grass, I realise my mistake.
It’s a dead end.
Processing where to go next, I feel a hand bunch my dress at the back and wrench me off my feet, throwing me onto my side.
I quickly turn and see Prince Kiernan and the two Fae looming over me.
Their faces are shadowed, the flash of their eyes and the smirk on their lips the only features I can make out in the weak moonlight.
I scramble to my feet and back away, right into the dark stone wall.
“What’s wrong, Little Princess?” the Prince drawls. “I thought you wanted some fun. You know, running off like that gets the blood pumping. We all love a good hunt.”
I’ve never seen him like this. He’s wild, almost primal.
“And we like to share,” the black-haired Fae leers as he walks towards me. “Does she need to learn how to be a proper Princess, Ky?” he asks as he stalks towards me, running his tongue over his bottom lip.
I press my back closer to the wall as he approaches me.
He leans down, lying his two hands flat on the wall either side of my head.
I smell Fae Wine on his hot breath as he nuzzles my neck.
His tongue darts out and licks down from behind my ear down to my neck, leaving a wet trail. I recoil with disgust.
“Well, she tastes like one.” He laughs and looks into my face as he brings a hand down to the neckline of my dress, his rough fingers brushing the bare skin above my breasts.
He suddenly crushes his cold lips onto mine, and I squirm against him, trying to push him away with my hands on his hard chest.
His tongue is pushing insistently against my lips, but I press them together tight and a low, jagged growl vibrates from his throat, the sound muffled and hot against my skin.
His hand tugs down on my neckline, my dress tearing easily under his strong grip, exposing the tops of my breasts.
His hips press into me, pushing me painfully harder into the wall at my back to keep me trapped.
He brings his other hand down from the wall and grabs the top of my thigh, dragging my leg up towards him, his hand near my breasts dips into my cleavage, his strong fingers cupping me.
A thumb traces a nipple. My body responds involuntarily—a physical reaction I have no control over. I let out a gasp.
A flutter starts in my stomach and drops between my legs, a heat pulsing deep inside of me. The sensation is purely mechanical, my body reacting despite my mind screaming in protest.
“You’re hard for me, Little Princess,” he groans onto my lips, and he kisses me again, his mouth exploring me, and as he gently nips my swollen bottom lip, another small sound escapes me, that feeling between my legs deepening.
His hand drops my leg and starts to bunch up my dress, exposing my bare legs.
Suddenly, his weight leaning against me releases, and I let out a low breath as he is jerked away.
“Enough!” Prince Kiernan roars.
I look up at him, panting rapidly. His gaze is feral, lips pulled up in a snarl.
He holds the black-haired Fae by the neck and shoves him against the wall.
Their shouts are jumbled as I try to clear my head of what has just happened.
I hold my arms across my chest, attempting to keep the broken neckline of my dress up to cover myself.
I can hear punches being thrown and cries of pain.
Out of nowhere something hard hits me; it could have been an arm or an elbow, I can’t tell.
I’m thrust forwards towards the wall, and my head hits it with a crack.
A white-hot explosion of pain rips through me, incinerating every thought.
I don’t even have time to scream before the kingdom ceases to exist and I black out.