Chapter Nine

"I CAN'T BELIEVE WE HAVE an actual dungeon," I gasped disbelievingly as I continued my slow trek down the stone and sand hallways.

We were deep under the palace, and the windowless hallways were dim with only sconces lighting the way. The damp space got muggy the farther in we went, and I quickly decided I didn't like it down here.

"We don't really call it that," Dallas said beside me.

"What do you call it?"

"Purgatory."

I nearly tripped over my own feet as I whipped my head around to look at her.

She stared straight ahead with a forlorn look painting her face, but when she glanced sideways at me, she smirked. "That was a joke."

"Not a very good one," I mumbled.

The space practically sang doom and gloom, so purgatory wasn't too far off. I wasn't fond of all the images flittering through my mind as we passed empty cells—prisoners chained to walls, men and women strapped into chairs to undergo some heinous torture. I didn't know if those things really happened here or if I was letting movies get in my head. Still, being down here made my skin crawl.

Despite not liking the atmosphere, I had to keep my wits about me. I was finally going to face Dax, my ex and the man who'd tried to have me killed. He was volatile, and I never knew what to expect with him.

Except his dick of a personality.

"Here's the dungeon headquarters where the guards work and store gear," Dallas said as she opened one of three large doors at the end of the main hallway.

Inside, it looked like your typical break room at an office—table and chairs in the center, cabinets lining the back wall, and extra seating around the edges of the room. What was different than your average office were all the weapons lining the sides of the room.

"Your Highness!"

The shocked greeting came from a man and woman who'd been seated at the table. The two quickly shot up from their seats before kneeling and bowing their heads with hands placed over their hearts.

"Uh—" My brain stalled, because I still wasn't used to such a greeting, and I doubted I ever would be. I didn't like people bowing to me, but it came with the whole Princess gig. Clearing my throat in an attempt to recover from my momentary loss of words, I said, "As you were."

Sure. Sounds like a legit response.

The two got back to their feet, and when their eyes met mine, recognition sparked. "Hey, I know you guys." I turned to the tall, broad-shouldered man with warm green eyes and dark curls. "Marcus, right?" I noted the girl's petite freckled face framed by her chin-length black hair. "Mingxia?"

The girl's eyes immediately glittered in awe, and her head bobbed animatedly. "Yes! I'm so honored that you remember me, Your Highness."

The two had been a part of my team of personal guards, and I'd briefly met them at the gathering where we'd ganged up on Dax to arrest him for treason.

"Are you here to question Dax, Princess?" Marcus asked.

"I am."

"Have you managed to get him to talk at all?" Dallas asked.

Mingxia shook her head. "Other than him going on and on about how we're fools and how he's our ‘rightful King,' no. He won't talk."

"Give me a break," Dallas huffed, running an aggravated hand through her red locks. "‘Rightful King,' my ass . He's lucky he's been allowed to breathe this long after what he did."

"Can I go talk to him?" I asked Marcus and Mingxia.

"Sure," Marcus answered, going for the door. "His cell is right this way."

"Maybe you'll have better luck getting him to talk than we did," Mingxia grumbled ruefully.

I doubted it, but I kept that pessimistic thought to myself. The bottom line was Dax loathed me. Apparently, he'd been my betrothed, and he felt that gave him some sort of claim over me. Before I knew this bit of info—or anything about Fae—I'd even dated him for a time. Not that he could stay faithful long enough for it to matter. It was shortly after we broke up that Dax had tried to have me killed—something that still didn't make much sense. That's why I was here now. To figure out why he'd hired someone to assassinate me.

I followed Marcus, and I realized they were keeping Dax close. He was the first cell down the right-side hallway, closest to the guard's room. The musty cell was a tight, dim space, and when I saw Dax standing against the far side with his head propped against the sandstone wall, I couldn't help but feel pity for my former friend.

Oh how you've fallen, Dax.

Marcus cleared his throat, and at the sound, Dax's muted green eyes opened. The moment his gaze locked with mine, a contemptuous sneer peeled his lips back. "Well, look who has decided to grace me with her presence. The ignorant, dim-witted, wanna-be Queen. This should be fun."

There had been a time when hearing such nasty words from him would've broken me, but I'd finally gotten to a point where Dax's words no longer held power over me.

"Do you think hurling insults at me will help your position here?" I deadpanned.

"My position?" He spat. He suddenly rushed to the bars separating us and gripped them tightly. "My position ? I'm King, damn it! King !"

"My, my, Dax," I said, shaking my head. "You've only been here a day, yet you're already hallucinating. Marcus, we may need to get Dax a drink here. He seems to think there's a crown atop his head and has this room confused with the spacious Queen and King's quarters upstairs."

"You fucking bitch," Dax hissed, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

"Your only position, Dax," I said, walking closer to the bars and dropping my voice low, "is that of a traitor. And you made that choice. Not me."

" I'm the traitor?" Dax heaved an incredulous laugh. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one riding the cock of a Land Fae. That traitorous whore would be you."

"You can call me all the names you'd like," I stated, careful to keep my stone-cold expression firmly in place. "It won't change which side of the bars you're on. That being said, maybe I can make better arrangements for you. If you cooperate and answer my questions."

Dax snickered, but it was all malice. "I'd rather eat my own shit than give you anything. You can fuck right off."

He walked backward and slumped against the back wall with his glare still trained on me. He thought he had some sort of power over me by withholding the answers I wanted, and that, no doubt, gave him a rush to hold some semblance of control over me.

It was in that moment that I realized how twisted Dax truly was. And how delusional I'd been to ever like him. Back in high school, I'd fantasized endlessly about Dax's dimples and his green eyes glittering with the promise of excitement. I'd doodled his name in hearts in countless notebooks and drew one too many sketches of him. When we'd finally started dating at the tail end of senior year, I'd thought it was a miracle.

It was only now, after experiencing real love with Rune, that I understood how wrong everything had been between Dax and me. When Dax and I kissed for the first time, I'd thought it was magic. I'd tricked myself into believing that I was living my own little fairytale.

Looking back now, I knew that kiss had meant absolutely nothing. It hadn't lit a fire within my chest that sent embers soaring on the wings of a phoenix. It hadn't made me breathless, had my toes curling, or made me feel cherished. No, back then when I had thought I loved Dax, what I truly loved was the idea of Dax. I loved and wanted the dream I'd built in my head, and I'd foolishly thought that dream was him.

If only I could go back in time and tell myself that our Prince Charming wasn't going to appear riding in on a white steed, but rather, he'd come as a fox rising from the flames.

And how much more badass was that?

"Forgive me, Your Highness," Marcus said from behind me. He watched Dax closely and came to stand next to me. He dropped his voice low for my ears only. "He isn't going to talk willingly. I think we should try something else."

"What do you have in mind?"

He waved for me to follow him back to the guard's headquarters where Dallas and Mingxia waited at the table.

As soon as Dallas saw us, she crossed her arms and eagerly leaned forward on the table. "Well?"

I shook my head. "He's definitely not open to talking."

"So, what now?"

"I think we should use it," Marcus suggested, exchanging a serious look with Mingxia.

Mingxia tilted her freckled nose higher into the air. "I told you so."

"Use what?" I asked, bouncing my gaze curiously between Mingxia and Marcus.

Marcus went to the back of the room where he opened a cabinet and produced a small, clear vial that looked like it contained water. He approached and held it up for me to look at. "This. They are the tears of an Owl Fae."

Offering a wry smile, I said, "That's nice. I'm sure we aren't collecting Owl's tears for funzies since that would be sad and morbid, so what do they do?"

"Owl Fae are knowledge seekers," Mingxia started, her excited eyes darting between the vial and me. "They are of the highest intelligence bracket, and in their pursuit of knowledge, they also seek the truth. Their tears act as a truth serum. Drink their tears, and you'll be forced to speak the truth while they're in your system."

"Owl tears are rare to come by, so we only use them as a last resort," Marcus added. "We like to give all prisoners a chance to be honest, but some, unfortunately, require a little assistance. This is our last vial of Owl tears, so Mingxia and I didn't want to use it without your permission or without you here."

"Woah," I mumbled.

I reached for the vial and studied it closely. The liquid didn't look like anything special, but a truth serum ? That was a very powerful thing and could be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands.

Glancing between Marcus and Mingxia, I asked, "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Not at all," Mingxia answered. "The questionee only has to drink it, and within seconds, it's kind of like a fog blankets your mind. You can't filter your thoughts or words, so only the truth comes out. The person who drinks it actually feels pretty peaceful. The aftermath can be ugly depending on how the questionee reacts when they realize they've just admitted everything. Plus, depending on what they admitted to, the sentencing and punishment is typically not pretty."

The idea of using this truth serum on Dax was far less unsettling when hearing that it wouldn't hurt him or permanently alter his state of mind. Despite all he'd done and his hate toward me, I still didn't wish him harm. I just wanted to understand why—why try so hard to kill me if he needed me to get what he wanted?

"Well then," I said after taking a deep breath. "I guess we'll be needing some more Owl tears after today."