12. Chapter 12

Chapter twelve

T he morning light is teasing at my eyelids. Mabon is a soft, warm weight sprawled on top of me. As consciousness rushes in, so do a thousand small aches and pains. I wince. That was one hell of a workout. I think it was four times? I dunno, I’m pretty sure I lost count.

Whatever the numbers, Mabon was incredible, and that was the wildest night of my life. I never knew sex could be so amazing. And now I’m left feeling all warm and glowy. I’m probably going to spend the day grinning, and with a bounce in my step.

I guess I’m gay now. Or Mabonsexual. There can’t be a person alive who isn’t Mabonsexual, so I’m not going to angst over it. He is the most beautiful person in existence. Anyone, everyone, every single sentient being with a pulse must want him.

It’s simply a fact of life. Like grass being green and the sky being blue. I won’t lose sleep over it.

Mabon stirs and yawns. I remove my arms from around him, but he doesn’t move away.

“Good morning,” he says sleepily.

“Morning,” I grin, and then, “Are you sore?” Because if I am, he has to be.

He lifts his head and stares at me with his sleep tousled hair acting like a lilac halo. His brows furrow in confusion.

“Are you concerned for my well-being?”

He sounds so confused. Utterly bewildered. Are the translators misfiring again?

“Yes?” I say tentatively, somehow making it seem like a question.

His head tilts to the side. His purple eyes blaze and seem to bore into my soul. He is scrutinising the very core of my being.

“Why?” he eventually asks.

The question flummoxes me. Surely giving a shit if you inadvertently hurt the person you just had a night of passionate sex with, is a normal human reaction? Oh, wait. There it is. I’ve stumbled upon the crux of it. Human reaction. Mabon isn’t human.

I gulp. That’s such a strange concept to grapple with. I’m talking with and interacting with a sentient being who is not human. As well as having sex with them. Oh lord, my head is spinning now.

Mabon is still staring at me.

Maybe it is not an interspecies cultural divide. Perhaps he is simply confused because he is my captor and soft feelings toward the man who has imprisoned you are not normal?

Suddenly, the bedroom door flings open. I jump out of my skin, while Mabon calmly looks over his shoulder.

The intruder is a fey with reddish antlers, very pointed ears and chestnut hair up in a bun.

“Gruffydd is going to challenge Osian to a duel today,” he says.

Mabon leaps off of me, exposing my nakedness to this newcomer. But Mabon is also facing the stranger while completely nude, with his hands on his hips. So I guess that’s fair enough.

“Selwyn! How do you know this and I don’t?” exclaims Mabon in a tone of indignant outrage.

Selwyn smirks. “You’re not the only one weaving webs, dearest brother.”

Mabon tosses his long hair over his shoulder. A fair few messy plaits are clinging on for life, but most of his glorious hair is free to tumble down to his narrow hips.

I watch the way it brushes over the very top of his ass as he stalks away towards his bathroom.

A soft noise has me turning towards Mabon’s brother, and I find him eyeing me appreciatively.

Before I can react, Mabon clicks his fingers sharply, sending his bracelets jangling.

“Pet!”

I’m leaping out of bed and scurrying over to Mabon, before I’ve consciously registered a thing. And the shock of finding myself dutifully following him into his bathroom hits me like a punch to the gut.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I ’m being paraded around in my Princess Leia outfit again. Mabon appears to be genially strolling around the palace, exchanging pleasantries with passersby. It took me far too long to realise that showing me off is simply an excuse for him to already be out and about when this duel is officially announced. No doubt Mabon wants a front-row seat, so he needs to be here as soon as it happens.

Selwyn is striding along beside Mabon. The brown-haired fey has his hands clasped behind his back and is rewarding people with charming smiles and generally looking like butter wouldn’t melt. But I’m not fooled. He isn’t innocent at all. He probably only shared his news with Mabon so he’d also have an excuse to be strolling around court. The man needs to get his own pet.

“A challenge has been issued!” someone calls out.

The words are taken up and repeated by others until it spreads out like a wave. Everyone starts moving in the same direction. The people dotted around the palace have become a crowd. A beast of one single intention.

We stream into what looks like an enormous ballroom. The crowd forms a circle, leaving an expanse of gleaming floorboards in the middle. Mabon and Selwyn stride forward, the crowd parting for the princes, until we reach the very edge of the circle.

I can’t believe I’m actually going to watch people fighting with swords. It’s so barbaric. Just how the fey manage to swan around thinking they are superior to humans and far more sophisticated, is beyond me.

A sparkle of light catches my attention. It’s a gleam from one of the many crystals the creepy duke has sewn onto his clothes. I’m glad he is on the opposite side of the circle from Mabon. The creep has a sickening look of avarice on his face. I’ve never seen bloodlust before, and it’s making me hate him all the more. But I can’t show a thing. I can’t even glare at the sicko because Mabon has forgotten all about gagging me in public and I’m sure as hell not going to give him any reason to remember.

And for some stupid reason, I truly do wish to keep Mabon’s secret. I could try to tell myself it is purely because I’m out of my depth and I have no idea what is going on and I need to learn the game before I play my cards. Mabon is scared of the duke but goes to great pains to hide it. And I don’t know yet if it is in my, and the Resistance’s, best interest to let the duke know.

But, while that all does sound rather reasonable, I have to admit to myself that it’s much more likely that the real reason is simply that I am a giant softy.

The crowd titters in excitement and parts briefly to allow two fey into the circle. These must be our combatants, but I can’t see any swords. However, the way they are glaring at each other and each holding their posture ramrod stiff is unmistakable. The hostility is so thick I swear I can taste it. I wonder what their beef is? I’m suddenly acutely curious. I guess I’ll ask Mabon later. I strongly suspect he is not averse to regaling gossip.

The duellists face each other. The one on the right has sapphire blue hair, all tied up in neat coils and twists. He doesn’t have any horns, only princes seem to have those. He does have what looks like cat ears, sitting on top of his head and not on the sides like a human’s. His skin has a very unhuman greenish tint to it too. And he has a long fluffy tail that is the same shade of blue as his hair. It is swishing back and forth now, for all the world like an angry cat’s.

His opponent has long hair that is russet at the top and coal black at the tips. The top half is neatly up in braids while the rest tumbles down to the small of his back. His ears are where a human’s would be, but very pointed. His eyes are yellow and slited, and he has cloven hooves instead of feet.

I swallow uneasily. Fey really aren’t human. And that’s terrifying. My mind can comprehend humans and animals. This strange category of something ‘other’ is freaking the hell out of my primal senses.

I think my survival instincts are in denial about Mabon and just categorises him as human so I don’t have a complete meltdown every five minutes.

Suddenly, a gong sounds and an expectant hush falls over the ballroom.

The blue-haired fey moves his hands. The cloven hooved fey stands stock still. I blink in confusion. Where is the explosion of violence? The weapons?

The gong sounds again. Now it is the hoof guy who is moving. What is going on?

I watch in utter bewilderment for a long while. Slowly, I start to make sense of it. They are fighting with magic and politely taking turns. The gong signifies the end of one turn and the beginning of the other person’s go.

The blue-haired fey makes a strange noise. A squeaking noise sounds out far behind him. The crowd shift and move. Hundreds of mice run between their feet and swarm to the hoof guy. They run up and all over his body. He stands stoically.

The gong sounds. Hoof guy makes a gesture with his hands. A series of small, awful thuds sound as all the mice fall off of him and lie unmoving on the floor.

Blue guy winces, and a cold fury fills his face. His fists clench by his side.

“Be still!” snarls hoof guy.

Blue guy’s sapphire eyes grow impossibly wide. He pales. He sweats. Poor bastard, I know exactly how that feels, except I never tried to fight it. This man clearly is. With everything he has. Long minutes tick by.

The gong sounds. The crowd erupts with excitement. Sapphire eyes flash with absolute horror.

“Gruffydd won!” exclaims Mabon.

The crowd is moving, jostling and elbowing one another. What is going on? The fight is over, isn’t it? Why has the atmosphere grown so giddy with anticipation? As if this is the good part?

I watch in confusion as the hoof guy, Gruffydd, walks around his defeated foe. He pulls pins from sapphire hair and it tumbles free. Each time a strand falls, the crowd gasps.

The blue-haired man is shuddering now. All his long hair is loose. It looks really pretty.

“Poor Osian,” whispers Mabon, and I don’t think he meant to speak out loud.

I look at him in surprise. His expression is one of vague interest. His eyes are blank. My leash is slack in his hand. Frowning, I look at his hand very closely. He is trembling. Ever so slightly.

My attention is snatched back to the ring. Gruffydd is pushing Osian down onto the floor. Now he is lifting his robes up. The crowd is cheering and shouting out encouragements.

Oh my god. No. Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.

But it very clearly is.

This can’t be happening.

“Stop this!” I say to Mabon in a strangled gasp.

He gives me a confused, slightly irritated look. “Why would I do that?”

Then he turns back to the entertainment.

I’m going to be sick. I close my eyes and cover my ears. This is awful. Horrendous. Downright evil. Fey are such cruel motherfuckers. I can’t believe I was softening towards Mabon. He is not human. He is my enemy. He doesn’t have compassion or a sense of justice.

Mabon has no soul.