Chapter 6

6

KASSANDRA

” N ot that I’m necessarily complaining,” Faye says a few ticks later as she reclines back in her chair.

The two of us sit in her sparsely furnished living room. Well, Faye sits. I pace incessantly. Relentlessly. Almost obsessively. My slippers wear a hole in the multicolored rug.

“But why do we have an elf in our dungeon? And what happened to the Winter fae who was hanging off of you?”

I don’t know how to respond to either of those questions.

An uneasy feeling twists and writhes in my gut, and that foreign sensation grows and grows the longer I pace. I want nothing more than to go to Aleksander and demand answers, but I have a feeling he won’t be so forthcoming after my “betrayal.”

Honestly, I wasn’t even sure my plan would work. Everything hinged on Faye recognizing me and taking immediate action against Aleksander. I was relieved when I saw her and her followers marching down the sandy hill, their swords and spears drawn and held at the ready. But that relief quickly transitioned into guilt when they carted Aleksander away.

At the same time, there’s no reason for me to feel guilty. I did absolutely nothing wrong. Aleksander was the one who stalked me. Aleksander was the one who murdered two males. Aleksander was the one who sought to kidnap me.

So why does this sinking, nagging feeling persist?

Instinctively, I lower my gaze to the strange brand on my bicep. The Mark of Chaos, if I’m to believe Aleksander.

Is he telling the truth?

What reason would he even have to lie?

I realize Faye’s staring at me, patiently waiting for an answer, so I stop my pacing and swivel on my heel. I don’t know how much to tell her, mainly because I don’t know if she’s sincere or not. Apparently, I’m horrible at judging a fae’s true intentions.

Yet something in my gut tells me that Faye is a friend, not an enemy. It’s the same voice that told me to put my trust in Cayetana and Serena.

I decide to give her an abridged version of the events that transpired.

The temple getting attacked.

Patric leading me into the secret tunnels.

Aleksander’s unexpected appearance.

The black virus.

I even mention Patric’s strange words—and how I don’t believe the male speaking to me was actually Patric. It was almost like some ethereal creature was using the old priest as a vessel for him to speak through. Patric was nothing but a puppet, all of his movements orchestrated by some higher power.

And finally, I tell her about the raised mark on my skin.

Faye’s brows furrow when I finish my story, and for the longest time, she doesn’t speak. As the silence between the two of us grows and stretches like a taut string, I begin to fret.

Have I just made a terrible mistake trusting her with all of this information? I don’t even know her.

And yet…

A tiny voice whispers in the back of my head, “Trust her. Trust her. Trust her.” It’s nearly impossible to ignore.

“I’ve never heard of the Mark of Chaos,” Faye says at last, the crease between her brows deepening. “And I’ve certainly never heard of the Hunter of Amorite. Then again, the elves are notoriously private individuals.” She runs a finger across her jawline in contemplation. “Do you think Aleksander will answer your questions if you ask them?”

I snort before I can stop myself. “I doubt it. He seems like the type that would hold the information over my head for as long as he can in order to get what he wants.”

A frown touches her lips. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

She stands abruptly and moves towards the front door of her hut. “Come. Let’s have a word with our prisoner, shall we?”

I wouldn’t consider this room a dungeon. I’ve been in dungeons before.

This is far too luxurious.

The tiny room consists of a straw bed, a handful of blankets, a pillow, a basin of water, and a chamber pot that looks to have been recently cleaned. There are a few windows, but they’re high enough up that even someone as tall as Aleksander would have difficulty reaching them. Ambient moonlight trickles in through the glass, creating lines of silver across the stone ground.

The elf himself reclines on the bed, looking positively relaxed despite the situation. One of his arms is strewn across his forehead, while the other lies limply at his side. His body twitches when we step into the room, but otherwise, he doesn’t outwardly respond or even acknowledge our presence.

“We’ll take it from here,” Faye tells the guards she assigned to watch over him.

The three of them nod and quickly exit down the hallway.

Leaving the two of us alone with Amorite’s best assassin.

“Cherub.” Aleksander’s husky voice drags my attention to him. He peels open one eyelid to stare at me. “I knew you’d come back for me. It’s nearly impossible for someone to resist my charm.”

Faye scoffs and steps farther into the room. The movement not only puts her closer to the indolent elf but also directly in front of me, blocking me from view. I have to shift slightly to see over Faye’s shoulder.

Aleksander’s eyes narrow on the petite female.

“I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to you yet. I’ve heard you're the fae responsible for all of…this.” He lazily waves a hand in the air to indicate the community as a whole. “But if you’re here to have your wicked way with me, I regret to inform you that I’m a taken elf. Now, please move your scrawny ass to the side so I can see my cherub. I’d hate to have to kill you.”

“So you’re the Hunter of Amorite,” Faye muses, ignoring his threat. “Impressive.”

“So you’ve heard of me?”

I would’ve expected that statement to sound cocky coming from him, but it’s merely matter-of-fact.

“Of course,” Faye bluffs.

I push up on my tiptoes to get a better view of the elf.

He’s still sitting on the bed, his back against the wall, but his attention isn’t on the tiny fae woman.

It’s on me.

When our eyes meet, he smiles. And though his next words are meant for Faye, he doesn’t peel his gaze off of me. “If you know what it means to be the Hunter, then you know that you’re either the bravest fae I’ve ever met or the stupidest. Most wouldn’t dare to keep me imprisoned.”

“What are you going to do?” Faye folds her arms over her chest. She seems to be studying him intently, gauging his reaction, but I can’t see the expression on her face. “Kill me? Kill her ?” She jabs her thumb in my direction.

Aleksander’s smile immediately flattens. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“I think I do.” Faye steps farther into the room, allowing me entry.

I can feel Aleksander’s eyes on me like two hot irons. Burning me. Branding me. Claiming me. My pulse skitters erratically at the sensation.

“Now, tell us what you know about the Mark of Chaos.”

Aleksander’s eyebrows touch his hairline, and he throws me an unreadable look. “Someone’s been chatty.” He then chuckles at his own unintentional joke while I roll my eyes.

“The Mark of Chaos,” Faye repeats, infusing her voice with steel. “What is it?”

All amusement flees from Aleksander’s expression. “Something immensely dangerous if it isn’t handled with care.”

“Handled with care?” Faye snorts derisively. “Can you be any more cryptic?”

“Yes, actually, I can.” Aleksander blinks up at her innocently. “Care to see?”

“I’m just surprised you’re not giving straight answers, is all,” Faye continues with a feigned yawn. “I mean, if it’s as dangerous as you’re leading us to believe, then wouldn’t you want to tell Kassandra everything she needs to know? After all, it’s not your life on the line…”

She allows her words to taper off as she gives the elf a pointed, indecipherable stare.

I want to tell her that her tactics are pointless. She’s assuming Aleksander cares about me as more than a commodity. Yes, I believe the elf finds me amusing and maybe even attractive, but that doesn’t mean he gives a shit about my wellbeing. Unless he doesn’t want any harm coming to his merchandise…

Aleksander’s eyes harden until they resemble granite, the black of his pupils expanding to swallow his icy-blue irises.

“Is that a threat, Summer fae?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Faye huffs and brushes at a strand of her short blonde hair. “I just think it would be a shame if something were to happen to Kass?—”

Before Faye can even finish her sentence, Aleksander is off the bed and across the room in two quick strides. He places an arm against Faye’s throat and holds her against the wall. Baring his teeth, he lowers himself so he can speak directly into her face.

“Nothing will happen to Kassandra. I won’t allow it,” he hisses.

Faye doesn’t look cowed, despite the fact that a seven-foot elf is cutting off her air supply and towering over her.

“Then tell us about the Mark of Chaos,” she croaks.

I hesitantly place a hand on Aleksander’s shoulder. His muscles flex beneath my touch.

Quick as a whip, he releases Faye and turns around. He bundles me into his arms and pulls me against his chest. My head barely reaches his pectorals.

Is he…hugging me?

I don’t know what in Gaia’s name to do. My arms remain limp by my sides as he holds me close.

“No one will hurt you, cherub,” he whispers, his voice a breath of air against the top of my head. “I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

Behind Aleksander, Faye smirks, appearing smug.

“Tell us about the Mark of Chaos,” she repeats.

Aleksander’s arms tighten nearly imperceptibly around me.

At first, I think he isn’t going to answer, but then he blows out a breath and slowly pushes me away. I move to join Faye against the wall, but Aleksander’s arms lock around me once more, and he moves us both so we’re sitting on the bed with me in his lap.

I give Faye a wide-eyed, bewildered look. “What in Gaia’s name is happening?” I mouth.

She just grins, amused.

Tentatively, with a gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of, Aleksander grabs my arm and twists it so he’s able to get a better view of my bicep and the mark. His fingers are feather-soft against the material of the glove, and I can’t help but wonder what they’ll feel like against my bare skin.

The thought makes zings of excitement sizzle along my nerves.

“The Mark of Chaos…” I hear rather than see Aleksander swallow. “Do you remember the story I told you before? About Order and Chaos?”

How could I forget?

“Well, there’s more to the story than I initially told you.” He takes a deep breath, and the fine hairs at the top of my head stir with the force of his exhale.

Goose bumps pepper on my skin, and a strange heat surges in my lower belly.

“Explain,” Faye barks, speaking for me.

“The only reason I’m not killing you right now is because I have my cherub in my arms,” Aleksander tells the fae woman nonchalantly. “Besides, I think your death will make my cherub sad, and I don’t want that.” He begins to stroke my golden hair, the movement almost absent-minded. “But if you keep disrespecting me, I’ll kill you, regardless of what Kassandra wants. Now, can I get back to my story without any interruptions? Please and thank you.”

Faye rolls her eyes but nods for him to continue.

“What I failed to mention the first time around is that, before Chaos and Order were put to sleep, Chaos created an army of minions to do his bidding. It’s one of the main reasons why the other gods retaliated against him. They didn’t want their universe to fall to ruin.”

An army?

Faye frowns. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Chaos couldn’t simply take control of people’s minds and force them to do his bidding,” Aleksander continues. “That would defy the natural order of things. However, he chose to create a virus to help exacerbate the disorder in the world.”

“The black virus,” I mouth at the same time Faye repeats it out loud.

“Exactly,” Aleksander agrees. “But back then, the black virus wasn’t how you see it today. It wasn’t characterized by violent outbursts and anger and mindless attacks. It was more…calculated. Sophisticated. And every person who got ‘sick’ was branded with this particular mark. They called it the Mark of Chaos.”

Feather-soft, his fingers trace the outline of the brand on my skin.

“So you’re saying Kassandra’s sick with the black virus?” Faye asks, dumbfounded.

And maybe even a little afraid. Everybody knows that the black virus is a death sentence. There’s no escaping it. No surviving it. No coming back from it.

Unless, of course, you touch the hand of the esteemed Death Whisperer.

“I’m saying that Kassandra has been infected, but it’s not with the black virus we’ve come to know now. It’s something else. Something other . Something deadlier than we could even begin to imagine.”

His words send a chill of fear through my body. I begin to tremble in Aleksander’s arms as I think of all the males and females I’ve come into contact with who’ve been sick with the mysterious virus. Will I lose my mind? Hurt people? Hurt myself?

Faye has gone a deadly shade of white. She opens her mouth—no doubt to ask more questions—when the door to the room is thrown open. A golden-skinned guard with red hair stands in the entryway, looking out of breath and wildly disheveled.

“Faye.” His voice trembles. “We need you. Now.”

Faye instantly straightens. Her fear from only moments ago has been replaced by steadfast determination. “What’s going on?”

“We’re under attack,” the fae rushes out.

Under attack?

Terror squeezes my heart in an impenetrable vise.

Faye’s face registers shock for a fraction of a tick before she masks it.

“Who is it? The fae from the temple?” She stalks towards the doorway.

When I move to follow after her, Aleksander tightens his arms around me, keeping me plastered to him.

“The Fall Prince,” the fae says, trembling. “The Fall Prince is here. And he’s on a rampage.”