14. Bare

Ispin around and spread my arms, spooked by the apparition, but the darkness condenses into a familiar silhouette.

"Congratulations, you've passed the first neophyte trial," One says without smiling.

"That's all? I passed?" I bring a hand to my chest. "I felt the magic, it was incredible?—"

His eyes narrow. "Don't kid yourself, seedling. You've barely got enough magic to breathe the same air as the Shadow King. Passing the first trial just means that you can survive in this world—nothing to boast about."

Grumpy, much? I try not to grumble and square my shoulders. "Was it necessary to use my sister as bait?"

"Kaat is a most clever creature. It uses what you love most to lure you inside its lair."

The loving way he speaks of the snake annoys me. "And what if it had succeeded?"

"Its bite is not lethal, but you would have proven yourself too weak-minded to hunt nightmares." He spins on his heels and threads deeper inside the cavern.

I glower at his retreating back and follow him past the underground lake and into a man-sized tunnel. The air grows colder as we descend into the earth, and we squeeze into a crevice at the end of the path. Solid rocks graze my body from both sides until the crack widens to create a square-shaped vault. Mirrors cover the walls of the chamber from floor to ceiling, interrupted only by the crack we just walked through. A shallow natural pool ripples in the middle of the vault, leaving only a few feet of paving stones on each side.

One lights the candles on an altar set up next to it with a snap of his fingers, the tiny lights reflected to infinity by the four mirrored walls.

The warm glow of the candles flickers over the oily surface of the natural pool like fireflies blinking in and out of view in a dark forest, and the slow ripples of the liquid clue me in to the fact it's probably not water.

I squint at my lonely reflection on the right.

One is only visible in the mirror to my left, and I jerk away from him. "What's going on?"

He seems unbothered by the phenomenon. "Penelope Emanuelle Darcy, you've passed the master of nightmare's first trial. Will you take the oath?"

The sizzle of his unseen gaze is both warm and suffocating. I open my mouth to ask questions, so many questions, but a thunderstorm clouds the mirror at the back of the room.

I wrangle my hands, my fingers cold and numb, and gasp when the Shadow King himself steps out of the darkened glass. The bite of his power tickles all over.

One slides backward in an awkward bow, creating a bit more space between us. "Your Highness." The word irks his tongue, and I catch a hint of defiance in his voice.

The king's golden mask shines under the light of the candles, his reflection only visible in the mirror to my right. Fae must absorb more light than mortals, but it's creepy to say the least.

One passes me a piece of parchment. "You must recite this vow to advance to the next phase."

"I—" I skim the elegant script. "It won't make me lose the bet, right?" I sneak a glance at the quiet king.

"No."

His cold response burrows in every crevice of my being, and I shudder under his scrutiny.

He can talk…

One inclines his head. "But from now on, the details of your visits to Faerie will be strictly confidential. The magic will bind you to your word. No enchantment needed."

Sweat gathers on my palms and sticks to the parchment as I read and recite the vow. "I, Penelope Emanuelle Darcy, promise your secrets will wither on my tongue and dry on my quill. I shall never betray the customs of your court to outsiders or try to bring an end to your reign. My word binds me for life, Shadow King, for if I break my promise, all that I am—flesh, blood, and bones—will be surrendered to you. Damian Morpheus Sombra, I ask you to open my eyes."

One's lips tremble as I reach the end, and he takes another step backward.

The king extends his gloved hand. "Your eyes shall be open." The hooded monarch leads me to the edge of the pool where five rock steps sink inside the water.

One walks to the opposite side. "These liquid shadows will crystallize your commitment to our court. Your mask will allow you to walk through glass. As long as you wear it, the nightmares that prowl the in-between won't be able to track you through the sceawere."

I crouch down and skim the surface with my fingers, not sure I want to go in there, but the shadows are warm and inviting. The thought of having a mask and being on equal terms with everyone else…

"Strip," the king says, the harsh command reeking of privilege and cruelty.

I stand up stiff. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe—" One starts.

The rest of the sentence dies on his lips as the king angles his face to him, and the scene freezes like it did the night of the feast. I can't move, only watch, as the king leans into my ear. "I won't ask again."

After a few endless seconds, One angles his face to the ground.

Hot saliva burns my throat, but the imperious desire to obey the king is undeniable. Unable to resist, I slide my pants down my legs and wrangle the long-sleeved shirt past my head. My long braid gets entangled in the fabric, and I slide it out of the way, my hands shaking.

The sheer stretchy black lace that counts as underwear in Faerie feathers to the ground without a sound, thickening the silence.

Tears sting my eyes. I knew it was coming. I just let myself forget where I was and why. Dread simmers in my mouth as I stand stock-still in front of the two men with nothing but my pain to shield me from their metallic gazes.

The king pries off one glove and grazes the length of my spine with the back of his hand. I hold my breath when he reaches my backside and follows its curve all the way to my thigh.

I shall not give in.

I shall not flee.

I shall endure.

"You're a real beauty." The fiend doubles back to my front and climbs my ribs one at a time with spider fingers, all the way up to my right breast. My nipples are hard as stone from the cold and the drugging fear in my blood.

Bile rises to my mouth. "I will never bed you."

The Shadow King laughs like my humiliation is a never-ending source of entertainment. "Never is such a big word. So final."

Despite it all, a sweet pressure builds in my belly at the fierce sight in front of me. One looks ready to lunge at the king, his back hunched, and the balls of his feet grounded. Even though he's standing on the opposite side of the pool, I have no doubt he'd make it in one jump.

The king lowers his voice. "I told him not to get attached to strays, but he doesn't listen. Look at him, so insolent. Pretending he's not dying to touch you himself. What a joke." Just as the Shadow King is about to squeeze the full and sensitive flesh of my breast and feel me up in front of his underling, he stops and kisses the back of my ear instead. "When we fuck, I'll make him watch, and believe me…he'll enjoy it."

Holy horses.

"Now, walk into the pool," the king adds, a hint of amusement at the tip of his wicked tongue.

The magic hold recedes, and I cross my arms over my breasts, each of my hands gripping the opposite shoulder. In three steps, I descend into the warm, silky black liquid, the pool deep enough for it to reach my belly button.

One gives me an encouraging nod. "Hold your breath for at least ten seconds before you come out, and try not to move. It won't hurt, but it's a bit unpleasant."

The calm instructions keep me from crumbling. I inhale deep and sink inch by inch inside the shadow pool, grateful for the intimacy it procures. My heart pounds recklessly in my chest. The shadows embrace me like a mother cradles her child, the long braid at my back tossed over my shoulder by a soft ripple.

Thank the Mother he's not allowed to force himself on me, but nothing prevents him from finding other ways to torture me.

The skin of my face prickles and burns, the sting not exactly painful but uncomfortable enough for me to wince as I count down from ten.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five…A weight gathers at my brow, and I graze the edge of the thick mask.

Four…Asharp texture appears on it, the part covering my eyes no longer smooth, but spiky as though a few jeweled pieces are now sticking out of the stone.

Three. Two. One… The shadows pull me to the surface, quite literally spitting me back out, and I draw a sharp, delirious breath.

I can see through my newly crafted mask perfectly, as though I'm not wearing one at all, and my pupils adjust to the sudden intensity of the candlelight. Reaching inside the depths of my soul, I summon enough confidence to walk out of the pool with my head held high.

The thick substance sticks to my breasts and bottom half in strategic places like the shadows recognized my need for modesty and were happy to provide it. It's not clothes, but it's better than nothing.

I glare at the Shadow King, unwilling to show how much his disgusting stunt affected me. He shoves One hard with his shoulder on his way out of the vault, exiting through the mirror behind the dark Fae.

I let out a small whimper, surprised to see him leave so abruptly, and the tight knot in my stomach eases.

"Ugh. He's an asshole." One holds out a fluffy towel in front of him. "Here."

I dig my heels in the ground. "And you think that's enough of an explanation? That makes it all okay?"

"Everyone has to strip for the ritual, but it's usually not so crowded…"

I wet my lips. "Lucky me."

I'm not stupid. I can feel the pressure of his gaze on me. On my hips. My thighs. In the hollow of my neck, slipping dangerously close to my breasts…

"My eyes are up here, asshole," I say, trying his slang on for size.

He barely holds in a laugh as he wiggles the white cloth from side to side. "The towel is right here. You chose not to take advantage of it."

Ugh.I finally tip-toe over to him and let him wrap the piece of fabric around my frame. I'm still rattled by the whole ordeal, but One doesn't curdle my blood like the Shadow King does. Quite the contrary.

I wonder if he's really dying to touch me?

The tar-like residue from the pool now feels and smells like water, quickly absorbed by the towel, leaving my skin clean and smooth as a polished pearl.

One spins around to allow me some privacy, the stiffness in his spine gone, his long fingers rapping his thigh in a repetitive motion.

I slip my clothes back on and paw at my belly, still mortified by what happened, but with a little more countenance. "I don't feel any different." Curious, I peel the mask off my face and flip it in my hands.

A wave of emeralds travels from the corner of one eye and over the bridge of the mask's nose only to spiral over its right cheek. The otherwise smooth gold mask is almost weightless despite the size of the stones.

Beautiful.

"Now, can you tell me what happened the other night in the gardens? I just swore fealty to your monstrous king," I croak.

One gives a negative slice of the head, and I want to shake him until he changes his mind.

"Do I have the Faerie sight?" I negotiate, trying to find another silver lining to this wretched, indoor swimming session.

"Not yet."

I draw back as he leans closer. "What are you doing?"

"Do you want the Faerie sight or not?" A leftover from his earlier snark rises to the surface.

"Yes." I'm rooted in place, wondering what's about to happen.

One cups the side of my face and whispers so softly that the wild beats of my heart almost drown out the words, "Close your eyes."

A nervous hiccup quakes my throat, but I obey. Why does he have the power to do this, and not the king? It's odd.

He presses his lips on my right lid, and wicked tremors rock up and down my spine as he switches to the other side. The heat of his kiss is dizzying, and my chest heaves.

Magic spices up the air, but it's not at all like the king's paralyzing power. It's warm and comforting and strangely familiar.

When I open my eyes again, the colors are vivid and slightly askew, and I blink to dissipate the warmth in my belly.

One pulls down his hood. Loose strands of raven-black hair fall over his mask, and I almost raise a hand to brush them back behind his pointy ears.

Almost, but not quite.

"Congratulations, kitten. You're a real seed, now. Tomorrow, I will teach you how to travel through the sceawere."