Chapter 3

3

KASSANDRA

I never really considered betrayal to have a taste before, but just now, as I look up at San’s smiling face, something bitter coats my tongue. Something sour and acerbic and surprisingly potent with an almost ashy texture.

I stare into his white-blue eyes and feel my heart sink like a lead boulder in my chest.

“We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way, you’re coming back with me. I think it’s time you returned home. Don’t you agree?”

No.

Not again.

I won’t be someone else’s prisoner.

I take a step backwards—my mind chanting away, away, away —and San counters it with one forward.

Aleksander, I remind myself. Not San.

San—the flirty, cocky, jovial peasant who was unwittingly dragged along on this adventure—never truly existed. He was nothing but a fa?ade in an attempt to carve his way beneath my defenses and get me to trust him. Open up to him.

“I’m not going to hurt you, my sweet cherub.” His voice is a low, husky murmur that seems to balance a precarious line between humor and barely leashed violence. His grin is as sharp as a knife's edge, but it’s juxtaposed by his light eyes that seem to glimmer with amusement.

I want to tell him to go away, to stop, to leave me alone, but I can’t. As always, my voice fails me, rendering me mute. This time around, I can’t even use my hands to communicate with him.

Because he’s blind.

Gaia, I feel like an idiot!

How could I have missed the warning signs?

Was I so desperate for a friend that I willingly turned a blind eye to all of his strange quirks and mannerisms?

He misinterprets my racing thoughts.

“You’re probably wondering where I’m taking you, yes?” He arches an eyebrow, though that cocksure grin never fades from his face. “What if I promise you that you’re safe? That you’re going somewhere you belong?”

He takes another step closer, but this time, there’s nowhere for me to go. My back meets the hard, unforgiving wall of the rocky tunnel. Stones dig into my spine.

“How about I tell you a little secret?” He chuckles and waggles his eyebrows. “Actually, let me show you.” In a singsong voice, he adds, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, my sweet, perfect cherub.”

I brace myself, but for what, I don’t know. Every muscle in my body locks together, and tension radiates across my shoulders and down my spine, causing me to stiffen. Bile burns the back of my throat as angry tears prick my eyes.

Is he going to hurt me?

Kill me?

How could I have read this situation so wrong?

San pauses, licks his lower lip, and then he…changes. That’s the only word I can think of to use, though even that fails to encapsulate the strange phenomenon I witness. One tick, a normal fae with obsidian-colored hair, blue-white eyes, and a belligerent smile stands in front of me. The next, he transforms into a creature I’ve never seen before.

He certainly looks fae—but a warped, distorted version of one. His limbs have lengthened, making him taller than anyone I’ve ever seen before. Even taller than Blaze, a feat I once thought to be impossible, considering he’s the biggest male I know.

His hair remains the same length, but the black is interspersed here and there with dark-blue streaks. His features turn sharper, almost pointier, and his eyes become a strange shade of blue with eerie white flecks around his pupils. Scars mar his cheeks and forehead. Some of them are red and puckered, while others are nothing but white lines. But his ears…

They are what give me a pause.

Most fae have slightly pointed ears, but his are significantly longer, arching upwards like a curved triangle. I only know one species that has these particular types of ears, and they haven’t been seen on fae lands in centuries.

Elves.

Aleksander is an elf.

A freaking elf.

Gaia.

He gives a dramatic bow, bending at the waist.

“Aleksander, Hunter of Amorite, at your service.” When he glances back up at me, a cheeky smile plastered on his lean, angular face, I realize that he can see . Those blue orbs of his lock on mine with an unerring focus and intensity.

Was he faking being blind this entire time?

Amorite…

Elf…

Oh my Gaia.

Terror sends my heart racing.

Is he here to kill me? Is that it? I don’t know why my thoughts immediately run in that direction, but once they do, there’s no turning back. All I can think of are worst-case scenarios.

Death.

Imprisonment.

Torture.

Pain.

Suffering.

Death.

Death.

Death.

I place my palms flat against the cave wall and pray for it to be swift and merciful.

Because death would be preferable to whatever else he plans to do to me.

Sell me to the Elvin king?

Use my powers for himself?

Gaia, save me…

His lips tighten at whatever expression he sees on my face. Some of the mirth from only ticks earlier dissipates.

“I told you that I wouldn’t hurt you, cherub, and I plan to keep my promise.”

“Cherub?” My hands move instinctively to spell out that strange word. I’ve never heard it before in my life. “What does that mean?”

A dark shadow falls over Aleksander’s face.

“I do not speak Falkan, my dear cherub. That is a fae language, not an elf one.” He extends a hand to me, and I notice that even his fingers are longer than that of an average fae, the tips riven with callouses.

His appearance conjures up images of another male I saw…

It takes me a tick to realize why he looks so familiar.

That strange fae I saw at the marketplace and then again at the inn. No, not fae. Elf .

There had been another elf following me. Watching me. Stalking me.

An elf who is currently dead, his decapitated head lying on the ground by Aleksander’s feet.

Why did Aleksander kill him if they’re both elves?

And why is he taking me now , after all this time? Why not earlier?

What does he want with me?

Does he know the truth of my identity?

Question after question battles for dominance in my mind, but I have no idea which one will win in the end. A splitting headache threatens to rip my brain apart, and I can practically see the smoke billowing from my ears.

“You have questions,” San murmurs, obviously reading the confusion swarming in my eyes. “And I have answers.”

He extends his hand again, but I eye it like it’s a venomous animal preparing to strike at and bite me.

I begin to shake my head rapidly. Not in response to San’s verbal statement but to his unspoken one.

I don’t want him to take me.

I won’t go with him.

I’d rather die.

“I’m the king’s hunter,” Aleksander—I have to stop thinking of him as San, because that fa?ade was apparently a lie—says calmly. “He ordered me to bring you to him. Offered to pay twice my usual fee. He even agreed to add on an entire barrel of freshly polished knives. I like knives. Then again, I like anything that’s sharp and pointy. What can I say? Some people like being tied up and spanked. Others like stabbing people repeatedly in the gut and laughing while they bleed out. We all have our kinks.”

My heart pounds so loudly I’m surprised he doesn’t hear it. I certainly do. It drowns out every other sound and creates its own drum line.

“Now, what I’m going to tell you next is something no other fae knows,” Aleksander continues with a wry chuckle. It’s not necessarily self-deprecating, but there’s a sort of bitterness to it that belies his normally cheerful tone. “You would be put to death under normal circumstances. But considering I’m usually the assassinator…well…” He shrugs unrepentantly. “I’d kill every fae and elf in this world before I’d allow a single hair on your head to get hurt.

“Anyway, when I arrived in the fae lands, I was required to change my form. To fit in, so to speak. I knew it would be a while until I could find and secure you.”

Secure me.

Like I’m cattle for him to purchase and trade.

A strange combination of bitterness and sorrow weaves together in my chest.

All I’ve ever wanted was for one person to care for me because of me , not because of my powers. Is that too much to ask for? Am I fated to always be a tool for others to use and then discard?

Aleksander continues on, oblivious to the morose direction of my thoughts.

“Our magic works differently than yours does. And by yours, I mean the fae species as a whole. They can utilize only the elements in their specific court. Take Winter fae, for example. Usually, they can wield water and air. The Spring Court fae are often known for their abilities to control the earth. But elves? We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

He smiles broadly and spreads his arms out wide. “We could conquer the world if we wanted to. But unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—our dear old king said it’s not nice to go on a mass genocide to rule the world.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t agree, but then again, there’s a reason I’m not in charge. Mass murders every night are a huge no-no in our world. Spoilsport.”

He frowns and then clears his throat with an irritated shake of his head.

“As I was saying, we can do anything we want, but our magic comes with a price. A sacrifice. That price is dependent on the magic one wishes to perform. Want to control the water? You might need to hold your breath the entire time. Wish to bring someone back from the dead? You’ll probably need to kill someone else to do it.” He tenderly reaches upwards to touch at the skin around his eyes. “When I had to change forms and become a fae, my magic took away my eyesight.”

How come I never heard of this? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Amorite is known for being mysterious and elusive. If the other kingdoms learned the truth of their powers, I have no doubt they would use that knowledge to their advantage.

I certainly know a handful of princes who wouldn’t hesitate.

I gesture towards him and then the ground at my feet.

His brows pinch together. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

I once again point my finger at him and then at the ground and then at my wrist, where some of the nobles will have time pieces attached.

When he continues to stare at me in confusion, I throw my hands up in the air. I’ve been trying to ask him how long he’s been in this land, but I can’t find a way to communicate that.

His lips purse together, and a look of irritation paves its way across his face. He folds his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“I suppose story time is over for now,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Which is a bloody shame, because I’ve been told I’m very good at telling erotica. Next time, cherub. But for now, we need to get moving before it gets dark.”

I immediately shake my head.

No!

I still have so much more I want to know.

He claimed the king asked him to grab me… Why? Because of my powers?

And what did he mean when he said he was the Hunter of Amorite? Is that an official title or one he gave himself? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter, but my instincts are telling me that Aleksander is not what he seems.

How did he even find me?

Where are we going?

How in Gaia’s name can I get myself out of this mess?

I slide my gaze to Patric, who lies unconscious on the ground at my feet. The old priest did nothing except try to help me escape after Gaia’s temple was attacked.

The temple…

In my terror over Aleksander’s revelation, I hadn’t allowed myself to think about the place I left behind.

Before I ran through the underground tunnel, I’d been at the temple with Calan, the Winter Prince. Is he okay? Is he hurt?

Who’s attacking in the first place?

Gaia’s temples have always been neutral ground. No one would dare attack such a sacred space, especially in broad daylight.

Fear for Calan, combined with terror for myself, nearly makes me weak in the knees.

“You’ll receive more of an explanation when we arrive. I promise,” Aleksander says with a gentleness I’ve never heard from him before. He’s usually always joking or singing or spewing off some sarcastic quip.

Then again, that was San, a fae I befriended at the marketplace.

I don’t know who this male before me is. Not really.

“Where are we even going?” I sign, not caring that he’s unable to understand me. I just want to get those words out into the universe, to breathe life into them instead of allowing them to fester away inside of me.

But even though Aleksander doesn’t know Falkan, the language of the hands, he understands what I’m trying to ask.

“Where are we heading, cherub?” His eyes glimmer. “Why, we’re going home, of course. Your home. The Amorite castle.”