Chapter 4

Page Four.

I was born to the Lightsun city, and I grew up in piles of gold, silver, and jewels sent by the Sun Dynasty for all royal fae children no matter which dynasty they were born, but my heart…it called to the dark. To the moon, and he was my ruin.

Istand before a row of vampyres. Each of them looks nearly the same to me. Same grey or very pale skin, white cloaks, white hats, fangs flashing every time they talk—scientists. Vampyres, not very high up ones, but people trained for district selection day. Blaire told me they would only double-check what she had found out, make a detailed file on my health, age, and anything my new owner would want to know before I would be taken to the preference housing. Two dark-haired girls next to me are crying hysterically, and the other two boys are completely silent. I wonder what is wrong with their health, why they are here with me. They are all a similar age to me, but not from the breeders' camp I grew up in. I don't know how many camps there are, but my mother once mentioned there were many.

I can't help the tears from rolling down my face when I think of my mother, of how she held me and said goodbye. How she looked broken and sad—and there wasn't anything either of us could do to fix it. My body is shaking from head to toe, but it's not cold in here, it's actually warmer than expected in winter. I keep my head up, my shoulders straight, just like my mother told me to do before she left me with Blaire. They both promised me that everything would be okay. That was three days ago, and now I'm going to be taken to a hellhole to be picked like a fruit hanging from a tree. For nothing more than a snack whenever he wants one. Or she. I am hoping for a woman. She might be kinder.

The door opens and all the scientists turn and look as a man walks in. He has curly locks of hair, very pale skin, and he is older. Vampyres age slowly and this man has grey-tinted red hair and a wrinkle on his forehead like he has been frowning too often. His skin is completely drained of any colour, a grey so light it could be white. His eyes are brown, unusual for a vampyre from what I've seen in the breeder communities, the few I've seen when they come round to do their checks. All of the guards never take off their helmets, but there are vampyres who come to visit fae women who are paid to see them without armour. I didn't need my mother to tell me why they visit. The horror in her voice was a story enough, and she always hid me when they came.

There's a pin clipped to this vampyre's cloak, and I don't recognise the symbol. It's a broken hammer, gold on red. The vampyre speaks to one scientist, nodding his head towards me. The scientist turns once and raises his hand to me, indicating for me to walk over. Sickness rises in my throat as I force my legs to move, and I stop next to them both. "You are coming with me, Story Dehana. Don't fight or I will have them inject you to sleep, and you will still come with me."

His voice is sharp, clipped, and every time he speaks, I see a hint of ruby red fangs. Why are his fangs red like that? I don't know how my legs manage to work as I follow him out of the room, down old stone corridors and out into the busy streets. There's a brown, highly decorated carriage waiting, two white horses tied to the front, and a fae driver sitting on the seat. I only see his fae ears tipping out of his brown hat and his brown clothes. He is a worker.

The vampyre opens the door for me, and I step in before plastering myself to the back of the carriage seat. He steps in after me, and the carriage takes off the second the door is shut. He looks down at his hand before reaching forward and touching the sides of the carriage. I smell magic as it whips through the air, washing over the carriage until there's almost a shimmery shine on the windows. Magic smells like ash, like something has burnt to a crisp and blown through the air. "We can speak freely now and no one will hear us, courtesy of my driver, a very talented fae who is not meant to have any powers. That will be kept between us, alright?"

Why is he telling me a secret? He doesn't know me. "O-okay?"

He picks up a pocket watch from his suit pocket, looking at the time before sliding it back. "Story, I don't expect you to trust me, but Blaire asked for a favour. Blaire, I owe her a great deal. She keeps a lot of secrets for me, which you will have to do as well, living in my house. I was told you can be trusted, just like your mother."

My voice is too high pitched as I manage to speak. "Did you know my father?"

His eyes flash with something, but he looks away from me. "No. My name is Professor Aleksander Wollke, and you are a blood slave to me now. I have no others. I have never needed to take one, and frankly, I find the whole idea cruel and unneeded. When I want to feed, I usually just get blood from the docks, but I won't be able to do that now. I will not feed from you directly, but it has to come across that I do. I have no intention of hurting you."

"Why?" I whisper. A vampyre that doesn't want to hurt a fae? My mother told me they didn't exist.

"Because it's cruel and you are a person. I have tools in my home ready, and they will make it easy for you to pierce your arm and drain blood into a glass for me. I will drink that, but if anyone asks, you are bitten when I want to feed, do you understand?"

I nod. "Yes."

"In my house, you'll be safe, and blood slaves are relatively safe around the city when you go out. You'll need to wear these and the colour red at all times." He hands me two silver bracelets. They have his name written on them, and also a symbol.

The hammer symbol again. "What does this mean?"

He looks away from me. "I work in the palace." My blood goes ice cold. "I make metal work for the royal soldiers, with the powerborn fae under my command. My estate is just outside the castle. It's tiny, but it's nothing for you to be concerned about living in. You'll be able to enter the city with the carriage whenever you wish. I will not bring you into the castle, so you have nothing to fear from the royals."

"Why should I trust you?" I ask after a long pause.

"Because your mother trusted Blaire, and Blaire loved your father," he bluntly informs me. She loved him. "I will keep you safe."

Little does the professor know, or I know at this time, that by picking me, he would never, ever be able to keep me safe.

I wake up to the sound of light tapping, like rain pinging off a glass window. Lifting my head, I first see a massive black boot in front of me as I breathe in the smell of whatever is still on my skin. There is a foul taste in my mouth that reminds me of the man who kidnapped me from my room and shoved a cloth into my face. It's an herbal scent, and my eyes are burning from it. I draw my eyes up his immense body to come face to face with King Ziven as he towers over me, his thick arms crossed, tight black shirt and heavy dark trousers. He was the man in my room. His black hair is just as messy as when we met, locks of it falling down his forehead as his silver eyes watch me. No mercy, no empathy. There is nothing but bitter hostility lingering in his weighted gaze. He leans down and before I can blink, there's a silver dagger pressed directly to my throat, the tip cutting the skin just underneath my chin. "Give me a reason not to kill you."

That should be an easy answer for most people. Most people would say their loved ones' names, speak of the future they planned out or the dream they want to live. The problem is, I don't exactly have a reason, other than the very basic, the obvious answer. "I want to live, but I won't beg. I promised myself that I'd never beg a king again."

His eyes darken, the silver going impossibly grey. "What king could you know before me and Daegan? Has he had you begging already?"

I won't tell him anything, but that slip of the tongue was a mistake. He can kill me if he wants, I can't tell him more. "Killing me is not going to get you anything that you want." He pushes the dagger into my neck, nipping my skin. I gasp. "Killing me will just leave you trapped in here."

He smiles at my bluff, like he got exactly what he wanted. I don't know why I just said that. "You do know exactly how you got in here, little liar?" He grabs the back of my neck and lifts me up to him. Somehow, he doesn't hurt me more with the dagger as he leans down over me until our faces are inches apart. There's nothing but fury written in his eyes. "You come in here on the night of the greatest storm I've ever seen and cause trouble, unrest through our people. I was going to let you live until you tried to blackmail me with your knowledge."

"I-I wasn't?—"

"Don't lie to me, Storm," he sneers. "Knowledge like that is going to get you killed."

His breath mixes with mine with how close he is holding me to his body, only an inch apart. He smells like stormy nights full of rain, a deep masculine oakmoss and lime scent and everything forbidden. He makes it hard to focus. "I told you all the truth. Etena would have known if I lied."

"Etena can see when someone lies, but it does not mean she can't lie to protect Daegan's interests." Ziven runs the dagger up my chin, up my cheek and back down. "It would be so easy to plunge this dagger into your heart and stop it all before it goes too far."

"Stop what?" I breathe out. He lets me go. I finally feel like I can move as he takes a step back, blinking more than once, his long dark eyelashes fluttering. Now the dagger's not on my throat, and his hand's not burning into the back of my neck, everything feels a little less intense. He walks away from me and sits down on a chair, a single chair in the dark room we are in. Oil lanterns burn on the walls, but they burn silver, casting a strange light upon both of us. He leans elbow on his knee and watches me like he is bored. We say nothing for a long time, and I wonder how long I've been in here. Will anyone come for me, or will he let me go? "Tell me a secret, Storm."

"My name is Story Dehana, and I am proud of my name. It is not Storm," I answer, lifting my head high even when all I want to do is bang the walls, beg for someone to save me from him. I'm shaking again and I hate how much he can see it. He must think I'm weak. "And I have no secrets that would interest you."

"We both know you're lying. I don't need the precious Etena to tell me that," he smirks. I glance at the moon mark on his cheek. How it moves slightly, like it's alive. The dragons on his hands and arms move too, flying slowly around. He follows my gaze, and I snap my eyes up. "Ask."

"What are those marks? What is your power?" I blurt out.

His eyes are nothing but amused. "You wouldn't want to know what my power is, and I said ask. I didn't say I wished to be your tutor, Storm."

That nickname again."Can't be that great if you're trapped in here with the rest of them," I snap and instantly regret the words when his eyes bleed of all amusement, leaving pure anger. Shut up, Story. For the love of the deities, don't wind this king up. I lift my hands in the air. "Look, I'm sorry about hitting you in the balls, but you were kidnapping me, so I feel like that was your fault, too. I'm going to go, because apparently you demanded I go do some kind of crazy ass trial thing, and I don't want to do that, but I doubt I'm getting a choice."

"You're going to walk straight out the door, Storm?" He sits straighter. "Tell me how you did that. Did the king you knew tell you we were here and sent you to be a spy to kill us all?"

My mouth parts. "No! Deities above, no!" I shake my head. "And it's Story. I don't appreciate nicknames, and I'm not a spy."

"While you continue to lie to me, you will be called whatever I wish, Storm."

I snap my teeth together. "Fine, call me whatever you want. I'm no liar."

He laughs, a cruel, taunting laugh. "Everyone is a liar. You're going to tell me your secrets and exactly how you got in here, why you're here, and if you take one step against us, I'll make sure your death is painful. Your king will only get your ashes back."

He's insane. Completely insane.

"King Ziven, we don't know each other, but I don't want an enemy. I'm not here to?—"

"More lies." He waves a hand, cutting me off. "I was told about how you believe you have no powers. Lessborn? What a bullshit name."

That might be the only thing we agree on. "I'm not powerborn?—"

Suddenly light shines in from behind me, and I turn just in time to see a wall literally collapsing on itself, bright burning golden light shining in through it. Daegan steps in and the light is coming from his hands, pure sunlight. He looks me over, clearly checking for injuries, and walks straight to my side. His hand rests on my back, and it's a possessive move that I see Ziven smirk at. I'm not sure I like it, because we barely know each other, but he might get me away from Ziven, so I don't move. "Do you want to start a war, Ziven?"

"Are you suggesting we have a war? The last was fun," Ziven answers, casually leaning back.

Daegan clenches his jaw. "Fun is not a word I would use for the deaths. Our peace treaty is simply paper, easily burnt in the light, and you know what that would mean."

They both look at each other. Ziven yawns. "You're not the only one that gets to keep her like a pretty doll you've picked up from a shop. I don't see any sun marks on her hands, on her cheeks or neck. Therefore, she's not yours. I did not break any part of our treaty. Have you even dared to ask her to be in your dynasty yet?"

"The treaty has no part about fae outside the dynasties," Daegan responds. "She is coming with me, if she wants to."

"I do," I answer quickly.

Ziven only winks at me. "Go then. She's not going to talk yet, but I'm sure the Decidere will loosen her tongue. If she survives the first day, then she spends half her week here, in my dynasty, so she can make a choice of her own. That's my offer."

It sounds like there is an "or else" missing at the end of his words. "I didn't know I was up for discussion about where I lived here."

Daegan glances at me, his voice softer. "There are old laws from the fae. Back before the doom, when a fae turned eighteen, they would spend six months in each dynasty so they might choose where they wanted to pledge to. Once pledged in blood to a dynasty, you cannot change."

"And what if I don't want to do that and just be me?" I question. "No dynasty."

Ziven laughs at me, and my cheeks brighten. "We can go back to the previous topic of war. You'd be the first one I'd kill."

Deities above, he is a lunatic.Daegan gives in pretty quickly to Ziven, most likely to protect me. "Fine, we'll be leaving, and I agree to your terms. Her trial's only an hour away now, as you've had her all night."

"All night?" I gasp. "But?—"

"Leave my dynasty," Ziven interrupts me, and I bite down on my tongue before I snap at him, at this powerful king. Daegan leads me out, but before I get to the broken wall, Ziven's voice echoes to me. "Your secrets will come out one way or the other, Storm. I look forward to breaking you."

I look over my shoulder, watching him as I walk away, deciding right here and now that I hate him. Ziven is an asshole. We walk out over the broken pieces of brick and down a corridor, past several archways. I can't help but look in through the open doors, spotting that everything here isn't exactly golden like I've seen. There are dark wood floors, silver wallpaper, the silver couches lining the walls, and matching plush armchairs that face the enormous fireplaces.

We come to a guarded door that must be the way out of the Moon Dynasty, and instead of the gold-plated armoured guards Daegan has by his doors, the two female fae standing there are both dressed casually. I would guess they're twins, with their matching black hair and beautiful features. I couldn't tell them apart if I tried. They hold the door open, both impassive as we step through, and they shut it behind us. The corridor is all golden out here, from the carpets to the walls, and Daegan doesn't say anything until we've walked quite far. Only when we come out to a balcony on the second floor does he take his hand away from my back.

I can't hear him as I look at the massive statue in the middle of the mansion. It's huge, with wings spread out to make pathways on the top floor, and the fae walk across them. There are ten floors by my count, all with balconies and pathways around the dragon leaping for the ceiling, its nose touching the top of the ceiling where a crack is spread across it. Almost like this dragon was trying to escape and it got frozen in time. "I'm extremely sorry. I didn't think he'd have the balls to come in and take you."

He makes me laugh for only a second as I think about the fact I hit Ziven in the balls. I'm not sure if Daegan would find that funny. "It's not your fault. I'm not in your dynasty, and we've only known each other a day or so. You don't owe me anything."

"I promised you protection, Story," he bites out. His anger is directed at the Moon king, not me, but he frightens me for a second. "It's not as easy as you think to find you in that place, but I want you to know I was looking for you all night."

"Thank you for coming for me," I answer with a tense smile. I really hope he doesn't think I owe him anything. "You didn't have to do that."

He stands, looking at the dragon with me. "I did."

People walk past us as I touch the banister, the metal cold and soothing. "What would happen if there was a war between you two? I don't want to cause that."

"We don't get along. There's history—family history—between us," he hedges. "It means that we'll never be friends. Ziven took you to piss me off, to show that he can if he wants to. He knows I am interested in how you got in here, and want to find a way out. Whereas Ziven? I'm not sure he ever wants to leave."

"Why wouldn't he want to leave?"

He looks at me like he wants to tell me more, but a bell rings softly. "I want to show you somewhere before I take you to the beginning of the Decidere. We've only got three quarters of an hour, I'm afraid."

I look down at my clothes. "Is what I'm wearing appropriate for this?"

"It's fine," Daegan answers as we walk away from the balcony and to a massive staircase that wraps tightly around the body of the dragon, all the way up to its wings. He takes me back to his apartments, to my room on the top floor, where I use the bathroom and quickly freshen up before he walks me down to what I think is the eighth floor. There are three massive archway doors, almost like small tunnels with lines drawn into the stone, and we head through one into one of the biggest rooms I've ever seen. Each tall wall is lined with books on shelves, and they are a rainbow of colours. My mouth pops open. There must be hundreds of thousands, if not more, books on at least twenty levels of this gigantic room. There are many tables around the floor with oil lanterns burning, but this entire library is empty.

Daegan clears his throat. "I got the feeling you like books. I'm not a huge reader, but my mother was, and she loved this place. You're free to come here whenever you want and read whatever you wish, but we insist on the books being put back once they've been taken out of here. We try to preserve this library; it is all the books we have left from our cities. The ten grand libraries of the dynasties…and these are all that is left of the stories of the world."

A single tear falls down my cheek, and I don't notice it until Daegan wipes it away, resting his hand on my cheek for a few moments. He shakes his head, stepping back. "Do you like it?"

"Like? I love it," I whisper in awe. "It's like a dream."

He smiles so brightly, and I realise that he is handsome. So, so handsome. "I thought it would give you a reason to survive for me. All the books that you can read if you survive today." He searches my eyes. "I know that you feel probably like you're trapped in here with us, but there's something good about being trapped here. We can find the light for you." I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and even surprising myself. He seems surprised too for a second, before he hugs me back just as tightly.

I'm blushing as I pull back. "Thank you."

He tucks a strand of my loose hair behind my ear, so casually, like he has done it a million times. "Give them a reason to write a story about you and survive the Decidere."