Chapter 13 Tegwyn
Tegwyn
With a crimson doublet embellished with golden thread, brown leather boots, and a longsword at the belt, the creature resembles a handsome prince from a prestigious court.
Or a knight, even.
But I won’t be fooled so easily, and I’m not the only one. Everyone inside this tavern knows what he is, which is why they keep their distance.
Ivy can’t take her eyes off him, naturally.
Her mouth hangs open, and a vapid expression comes over her lovely face. It’s happening…she’s losing herself.
She can’t be blamed, though. The faerie presents a beautiful facade, one with the most devastating locks of shining sable.
With a bone structure carved as if from the finest diamond, how could she not be smitten? As a mortal, she won’t be able to see the heady cloud of scarlet that surrounds him like a wisp of smoke, the one that completely enraptures her and robs her of all common sense.
My claws peek from my gloves. If he thinks he’s getting his hands on her, he can kiss my ass.
He places his gloved hand on the crescent-moon pommel of his longsword, shooting Ivy a dashing smile filled with brilliant white teeth.
She blushes beet-red. It’s best I get her out of here. I won’t have her falling prey to this predator.
“My, you’re certainly a sight for weary eyes,” he whispers, his voice like silk. “For many weeks I have travelled, yet I have stumbled upon no maid so fair. What is thy name, sweet lady?”
Ivy’s pupils bloom like rose petals, dominating her starburst eyes. “I…can’t remember…”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, heaving a gritty sigh.
I need to end this.
Rising from my seat, I move around the table, getting a good look at our new friend. His mask may be foolproof to a na?ve human like Ivy, but I know better…
His white skin has a powdery texture like chalk, and his glacier-blue eyes are rimmed with red, and don’t forget the overly sensual lips, either.
He makes me want to vomit.
“We’re leaving,” I announce, keeping my eyes on the loathsome creature. “Come along, Ivy.”
The faerie’s eyes dazzle at the sound of her name. “Ivy? A most befitting moniker for a beautiful maid.” He bows low, bending his body at the perfect angle. “I am Lord Valent, High Lord of the Onyx Crescent Court. It is an honour to be graced with your presence, my lady.”
Ivy’s skin deepens with lust, and a feminine giggle escapes her lips.
Shit. Losing her…
I don’t care if this bastard holds his own court; I will send him back to the Unseelie Lands in bite-sized pieces.
He shouldn’t be trespassing in Rogue territory, but as a High Lord, it’s obvious he thinks himself above us. We should be honoured that he deigned to grace our humble little tavern with his presence.
It’s why most of the bar's patrons keep a wide berth. He’s a powerful Fae and rich in magic, as his castle is situated right beside the Pool of Light.
Power ripples from him in waves, and I am simply no match. But I don’t need magic to fight this pompous prick.
Lord Valent bestows me with a courteous bow, and his stench of blood grows ever stronger. “I’m sorry to have troubled you, simple Rogue, but I was simply awestruck by your beautiful maid.”
I hiss through clenched teeth, “She is not my maid. And don’t call me Rogue…”
He cocks a brow, straightening once again. “I dare say. I did find it rather peculiar that a female of her standing would be taken with someone so...” he stops, searching for the right word to describe a Rogue like me, “alarming.”
His lordship regards my fangs, horns, and claws, and I toss my head back, barking a laugh. “And I could say the same about you. You’re not so glamorous yourself.”
Lord Valent palms his chest, feigning indignation. “Well, I never, but I do think we should leave the debate up to this sweet female.” He turns to Ivy, “Tell me, Ivy, do you find me charming?”
He winks, and once again, she turns beet-red.
“Yes, your lordship, I…I do,” she gasps, chest heaving, “very much.”
This time, she bites her lip.
I frown at her. I know it’s not her fault. These creatures are masters of seduction, but does she have to be so goddamn obvious?
“Why are you still sitting? We’re leaving.”
She tears her gaze away from Lord Valent at long last, and it’s like I no longer exist. All she sees is the vile predator.
I finally understand the human expression of chopped liver… because that is what I’ve just become.
“Did you say something?” she asks absentmindedly.
Before I can reply, Lord Valent gets down on one knee, taking her dainty hands in his fingers.
A low sound reverberates in my chest, rising from the darkest pits of my soul.
He dares lay a hand on her…
“Please, not yet. Stay a while longer.”
Ivy’s face warps with guilt, and she has never looked more conflicted. But then she produces another hazy smile, murmuring, “Well…I could always stay and finish my drink.”
Before she reaches for her tankard, I pick it up and chug it back. Once again, Stannog’s gnat’s piss taints my bloodstream, yet like the stubborn shit I am, I continue.
Anything to save Ivy from a wretched fate. I’m losing her to this monster, and if I don’t do something fast, then she’ll be gone forever; I can already hear the bar’s patrons placing bets on her life.
They can bet on my ass.
I burp close to Lord Valent, hoping the stench melts the skin right off his creepy face, and his mask cracks for the briefest moment.
“Most commendable, Rogue...”
I can’t help but feel proud of myself. He may act aloof, but deep down, I know he’s seething.
Wiping my lips, I slam the tankard down on the table, giving Valent an impish smile—except now I see two Lord Valents.
Fuck.
“Now we leave… Ivy?”
She shakes her head, finally coming to her senses. “Erm…sure,” she stammers, joining me.
My shoulders sag with relief, and we head for the door.
His silken voice projects through the bar, so confident, so self-assured. “Goodbye, sweet Ivy. I’ll never forget you.”
Ivy stops, gazing back over her shoulder. Sadness shimmers inside her big starburst eyes, and it looks as if I was wrong.
She’s already so far under his thrall. Now the poor thing will pine for him day and night until she’s driven to the brink of insanity.
I never should have brought her here. Unarmed, helpless…
In the end, this tavern is a writhing nest of vipers.
And I’m the worst viper of all.
“Ivy, what are you doing? Let’s go,” I whisper.
She can’t take her eyes off Lord Valent, and again, her pupils explode, leaving nothing but a bright ring of sea green.
“We’re staying,” she intones, inhaling his red smoke.
Mumbling echoes through the bar, followed by the clinking of coins, and I spy Stannog shaking his head in disappointment.
“No. We leave,” I reply desperately now.
Ivy completely ignores me as she saunters back to Lord Valent’s side, taking her cloak off at his request. The rest of the bar watches the show unfold; it's not every day they get to see a master at work.
Ivy will belong to Lord Valent by the night’s end, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
It looks like I failed to keep my end of the bargain.
I did not protect her.
Lord Valent orders honeyed wine for the entire bar, and Stannog begrudgingly obliges.
Now Ivy will become drunk on faerie wine, a drunkenness the likes of which she will never wake from.
Beautiful girls materialise from thin air, floating around the tavern like neat swathes of silk as they hand out shimmering goblets.
These must be Stannog’s ‘nighttime’ staff. Some of them possess bright wings of gossamer, and others bear horns and antlers, yet they all have one thing in common—they’ve shared my bed.
One with the peppered wings of a moth approaches Ivy’s side, pouring a generous amount of wine into a silver goblet, and the human tries her hardest not to stare at the large appendages sticking out from her back.
“Fermented for one hundred years for the lovely girl,” the female croons, her voice as clear and resonant as the pealing notes of a wind chime.
Ivy takes the goblet from the faerie’s long, slender fingers, and the moment it vanishes down her throat, she giggles like a happy idiot.
Just as I thought… Spiked.
The Fae female smirks, whirling back towards the bar with all the lethal grace of a feline.
On her way through the gate, I grip her wrist, whispering into her pointed ear, “Don’t.”
She bats her yellow, cat-like eyes. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Fuck you. You know exactly what I’m talking about, Mellow. Leave her be.”
As far as faeries go, Mellow was pretty average in bed. Let’s just say that desperate times call for desperate measures.
Mellow bares her straight white teeth. She’s always been a jealous, petty bitch. She must think that Ivy and I are courting. We’re not, but Mellow won’t see it that way.
“You made a mistake bringing that dung here, and my name is Minnow, prick.”
Who cares what her name is? I didn’t care when I was fucking her, and I sure as hell don’t care now that we’re no longer paramours.
I tighten my grip on her frail wrist, flashing my eyes in warning. Then I let her go once Stannog growls at me to stop.
Milda, Merrow, or whatever her stupid name is, is one of his best workers, so he doesn’t want me to ruin her face.
A face that’s as forgetful as her name.
The winged female rubs at the red mark that I left on her wrist. Then she whacks me across the back of the head with her tray, making me spill my gnat’s piss.
I refuse to participate in honeyed wine; I won’t touch anything that Unseelie bought with his gold.
Lord Valent can’t take his cold, glacier eyes off Ivy as she dances just for him, and I hope her death will be quick and painless.
All I can do is brood at the bar while Ivy makes a fool of herself, dancing for the amusement of these wicked creatures. She will wear down the soles of her feet before Valent is through with her.
Everyone cheers her on, and someone even starts to play the flute for her as she twirls and twirls, and whenever she trips or stumbles, I die a little inside.
The bar erupts with cruel laughter.
Mildew caws the loudest, and I growl when the bitch grabs Ivy’s shoulders, spinning her faster and faster.
The human falls into the arms of the puca, and the two toss her back and forth, turning it into a game.
Ivy titters the whole time, and she thinks she’s having the time of her life.
But faeries like to play with their food first. It makes their suffering taste all that sweeter…
“Enough!” Lord Valent bellows, coming to her rescue at last.
The patrons withdraw once the lord makes his presence known. Moola returns to serving punters, while the puca resumes his card game.
Me, on the other hand… I stare down into the bottom of my empty tankard, hoping I’ll find the answers I seek.
The world tips on its axis. Then my vision distorts, making it hard to tell fact from fiction. A small part of me just wants to head home. Why should I care? Ivy made her choice.
Still, I turn on my barstool, my heart plunging to the deepest depths of my soul when I spy her there.
Lord Valent plays with a lock of her beautiful blonde hair, and a giggle pours from her sweet lips, chasing away the darkness, like the pealing notes of a Yule bell... a bell that will soon stop forever.
I can’t bear to watch. Time to head home to my dark mountain.
Yes. Run away, coward.
Rosemary’s taunting voice swirls through my drunken mind, but I ignore her nasty comments, rising from the stool.
“Are ye really going ter leave her trapped in that spider’s web?”
I peer across the bar. Stannog side-eyes me with that familiar disdain, and for once, I deserve his hostility.
Yes. I am going to leave her with the spider. What more can I do? She’s already gone.
“Well?” he demands.
I put up a strong front, hoping he doesn’t notice that I’m dying inside. “Pretty spider... Wouldn’t you agree?”
I go to swig the dregs of my disgusting drink, but Stannog snatches it from my hand, showing me his crooked teeth. “Get that lass home before it’s too late.”
I sigh. “It’s already too late…”
“No. It’s not. Just this once, I’ll help.”
A smirk curves my lips. “Since when did you start loving dung?”
Stannog growls, “I don’t. But I’m not about ter let that poor girl die. Ye brought her here, now ye take her back.”
I groan, rubbing my eyes. Then I twist around in my stool, listening to their conversation.
“You poor thing,” Lord Valent cries in dismay.
Ivy pauses, and it takes me a moment to realise.
They’re talking about me…
“He’s…not so bad,” she replies bashfully, and it’s clear she’s having a hard time trying to find something nice to say about me.
She continues, “Sure, he’s crude and selfish, but I’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”
Lord Valent shakes his head, black locks shining with the movement. “Yes, but not at the expense of your necklace. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that Rogue is not your friend. He only meant to deceive you, and it looks like his gambit paid off.”
I glower at him from the corner of my eye. Such a way with words.
But why do I have a sick feeling in my gut? One akin to shame?
Ivy actually has the stomach to look sad for me. Maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as I thought.
“My mama taught me to see the good in everyone, but… I do really have to try with him.”
My world crashes around me. I am not good in her eyes.
Lord Valent chuckles, “Well, I can think of one good thing about him. If he hadn’t brought you here tonight, then we never would have met.”
Ivy laughs shyly, and I stick out my tongue. Looks like we’ve got a smooth talker here.
“You can’t continue this way,” Lord Valent announces. “He’s a monster, pure and simple, and he only means to hurt you. I have my charger outside. Let us make haste before anyone notices we’re missing.”
The blood crashes through my head like the waves of an oncoming storm, and I kick my stool out from beneath me as I finally face the enemy.
“No!”