5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

I really need to pee now. It’s getting uncomfortable. Mabon left a while ago and I’m just sitting here on the floor, butt naked and trying not to wet myself.

Did he forget to tell a servant? Is this punishment? A test? What is he going to do if he comes back and finds me sitting in a puddle of my own piss?

This is awful. I need him to come back. I want him to come back. Even if being made to piss myself is not my punishment and he is going to do something far worse to me. Because surely he is going to do something? I tried to escape. I broke my chains. I scared the crap out of his friend.

Actions have consequences, or so the saying goes. And I’m damn sure that angering a fey prince is going to have repercussions.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opens and I have never been more delighted. As long as I get to pee first, I don’t care what happens next.

Then my brain and eyes argue for a moment before I finally have to accept that I am looking at a person that seems to be made entirely of shadows. With glowing red eyes. I continue to blink several times, but he is still here.

He stares down at me. I say he, because somehow the shadows seem male. I force a swallow down my tight throat. Maybe I don’t need a pee so badly after all.

But he doesn’t even ask. He just strides up to me, unlocks the chain from the bed, and then tugs on it like it’s a leash and I’m a dog.

I get to my feet. I’m not going to argue with a literal monster over the way he is treating me. I have more sense than that. I’ll be a dog. I’ll be whatever he wants me to be, because there is absolutely nothing wrong with a healthy dose of self preservation.

Shadow man nods at me and then starts leading me somewhere. I’m taller than him, so that’s something. I’m taller than most people, but on this occasion, it feels bloody good.

He shoves a door open to reveal a gleaming white washroom, complete with toilet. My bladder clenches painfully at the sight of it and before I know what is happening, I’m barrelling past shadow man and relieving myself with a groan of satisfaction. I don’t even care that he is watching. He is behind me, and it’s no less private than a public urinal. Though I don’t usually stand naked at urinals, so there is that.

“Can I have some clothes?” I ask as I finish my business and look over my shoulder at him. I can’t believe I’m being so brave.

He shakes his head. I sigh and walk over to the sink and start washing my hands. It was worth a try. And at least he seems less intimidating now.

I dry my hands on the most luxurious towel I have ever felt, and then stare at him expectantly. Now what? Shadow man is still holding my leash. I’m not going anywhere unless he takes me, because while I’m taller, I’m sure as hell that he is stronger. He is a monster made of nightmares and shadows. I know when I’m out matched. I’m not stupid.

He nods at me again, turns around and strides away. I sigh again and hurry after him before the slack in the chain is eaten up.

He takes me through a couple of doors to a gorgeous room. It’s all pale colours, stupidly high ceilings and an enormous bay window. The room is scattered with various sofas and plush armchairs, with a large circular two-seater table set up in the bay window. Is this a sitting room? Dining room? Drawing room? I have no idea.

Shadow dude takes me over to the table. It’s laid with a selection of cold meats and a glass jug of what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice. My stomach rumbles loudly.

Shadow man gestures for me to sit and it’s an order I don’t mind obeying at all. The cloth of the seat feels strange against my bare arse cheeks, but I’ll live.

I look up at my guard. “Is this for me?”

He nods.

Thank fuck for that. If he had said no, I think I might have burst into tears. It would have been the cruelest torture.

I grab a slice of what looks like chicken and shove it into my mouth. Protein. Just what I need. Delicious flavours explode in my mouth. I moan in pleasure before I can stop myself. Oh my god, this is the most delectable chicken I have ever had. How is that even possible? It looks like a simple slice of roasted meat.

I give shadow guy a questioning look. He smirks back at me. Well, fuck him. I shove some more meat into my mouth and groan again. Then I pour myself some juice. It zings on my tongue. Cold and fresher than anything I’ve ever tasted. I gulp it down.

Maybe I’m simply really hungry and very thirsty? Surely nothing can truly taste this good?

But as I munch away, devouring everything on the table, shadow man starts to giggle. My heart sinks. Poison doesn’t taste good, does it?

No, I’m being ridiculous. Why the hell would they poison me? If they wanted me dead, it would be easy enough to do. I’ve experienced how fast and strong Mabon is. My scalp and ass cheeks replay an echo of pain as that memory floods me. I wince. Yeah, Mabon doesn’t need to resort to poison. I’m being paranoid.

The soft click of a door closing grabs my attention. I look up. And then around. I’m alone. Shadow guy has left. He has simply dropped my leash and vanished.

I get up, pick up my leash, and try the doors. All of them. There is a set in each wall, apart from the side where the window is. And they are all locked.

I drift back to the table and pick up another slice of meat. I think this one is beef. It’s divine, whatever it is.

Being locked in a fancy room in a palace, with the most wonderful food I have ever eaten, isn’t all bad, I suppose. There are definitely worse ways to be imprisoned, I’m sure. I’m even getting used to being naked.

Unease coils through my guts. Am I being ensorcelled to be compliant, or was my earlier panic just that, a stupid blind panic?

I feel embarrassed about it now. Regardless of the truth, that was the world’s most idiotic escape attempt. Did I really think I could run around Buckingham Palace buck naked and find my way out without being stopped? What was I thinking?

Escapes need to be carefully planned and timed. Lulling one’s captor into a false sense of security is a good idea. I need to do better. I need to pay attention. Watch and learn. Then, when the time is right, then I can escape. Hopefully, with a shit ton of information for the Resistance.

My hand scrabbles at the empty plate. I’ve eaten everything. Disappointment gnaws at me, even though I’m not hungry anymore. It was just so delicious.

Sighing, I finish the juice. Now what? I look around the room. There is not a lot to do in here. I could sleep on one of the sofas, but I’m not tired. I’ll guess I’ll do some pushups, situps and squats. It won’t be as good as a proper work out at a gym, but it’s better than nothing. I don’t want to lose all the definition I’ve worked so hard to gain.

With that thought in mind, I drop to the floor.

I can’t do anything too vigorous or exciting since I just ate a shit ton of food. But a gentle workout won’t do me any harm.

I zone out as I exercise and the familiar calm feels great. I work through some reps and then start again. Just as I’m getting really sweaty, a soft noise makes me look up from my pushups.

Mabon is standing right in front of me. Hands clasped together as if in prayer. Amethyst eyes sparkling in rapture, and fixated on my naked ass.

Where the hell did he come from, and how long has he been standing here ogling me?

I scramble to my feet and his gaze drops immediately to my cock. I protect myself with my hands and try to fight the blush that is spreading across my face.

Mabon licks his lips. His gaze slowly, very slowly, tracks its way up my body. Eventually, he finds my face.

He sighs happily. “You are far too pretty to punish. But if you try to escape again, I will seal your eyes shut with hot wax. I like your lovely eyes, but I don’t need to see them all the time.” He stops and cocks his head to the side. “Or maybe I will hammer a nail into your eardrums. That won’t ruin your looks.” He pauses again and taps a finger against his pursed lips. “But then you won’t be able to hear your orders. So eyes it is!”

He claps his hands and seems very pleased with his decision. I can’t see any mockery in his expression. There is no idleness to his threats. He means every word.

I swallow dryly. Fucking hell.

“You may wash me now,” he says brightly.

Then he walks away. Mutely I follow. His threats ringing in my, for now, intact ears.