How does it feel? (Infatuated Fae Book 1) -
How does it feel? – Chapter 18
Callie
“No fucking way,” I whispered to myself.
Bars of faint charcoal smoke walled a six-foot circle around me.
Time and time again, I had tried to force my body through the teasingly opaque wisps of smoke that formed my new prison. It was the worst taunting of hope imaginable. A prison of smoke that teased your mind with shifts and swirls, believing a weak point has formed only to touch it and be disappointed.
It may as well have been iron for all the more it gave. Anger and sadness ripped through me as a vision of Walter being dropped into the abyss flashed through my mind.
He died because of me. Because he helped me.
A prickle of dreaded understanding began to unfurl within me, like a mosaic of puzzle pieces slowly coming together. Things I had struggled to understand began to make sense the moment I saw the dark queen. Understanding began to crack like a vein through the broken glass of my mind.
How would I escape? Could I do this? What if I failed? At least I was free from the dungeon.
I sat against the smokey rail and pulled my knees tight against my chest. It would be all right.
It had to be.
The cage’s ceiling was a peaked blanket of smoke that hovered and shifted hypnotically with the air. It was eight feet tall at least and didn’t seem to take up a fraction of space in the obscenely large room.
It was similar in style to the one I had been in earlier with the staircase, with one large difference.
Actias luna—the beautiful sherbet green moths—clung to the matte black walls. Hundreds of them scattered and dotted the walls of the large room, giving the illusion of a beautifully contrasted wallpaper. They moved their wings slowly—not fluttering, but smooth and deliberate against the dark walls. Mendax had said they were his pets. How poetic to be caged with the creature I had chased for years.
My neck spasmed slightly as the kink of manipulation settled into my shoulders, heavy with burden. It was clear now. Why, all those years ago before he left, the man I had once trusted, the one I leaned on—my best friend—had fueled my interest in the luna moth. He knew my obsession with wings.
What a fool I had been.
Something blurred in my peripheral vision, and my body immediately tensed.
Prince Mendax waltzed into the room, dropping his cape on the giant black four-poster bed as he passed. His gaze was as harsh as it had been on the roof before the guards had hauled me here.
I looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear that filled my eyes.
Instead, I took stock of the nearly empty room. Large windows that climbed floor to ceiling were the only real light, and even that was sparse. Long black draperies pulled to each side of the enormous windows. The light that filtered in as the moon illuminated the room was hazy and silver but much brighter than I would have ever expected. I could see details in the delicate scrolls of appliqués that laced the dresser and the chandelier’s reflection off the shiny marble floor in the room behind me. Even the intricate gold details of fancy bathroom fixtures glimmered to life with the touch of moonlight.
“Callie, Callie, Callie.” His deep voice sliced the silence of the room like a knife as he walked closer to my cage.
He stopped in front of the cage and crossed his arms with a smirk plastered on his handsome face. A cold sparkle lived in his eyes when he watched me now.
“I’d almost forgotten that dull name of yours.” He took a step closer and bent down, squinting at me with theatrical concern.
I scowled back at him.
“No,” he said as he stepped back and straightened to his full intimidating height again. His black shirt pulled tightly against the muscles on his shoulders and arms as he wrapped them across his chest. He rested his chin against the palm of his hand thoughtfully. “You still haven’t realized how incredible it is that you gave me your name.”
I pulled my dress down, trying to cover the bare flesh that was flashing him. I had more important things to care about than my modesty, but I still didn’t like the way the sharp lines of his jaw seemed to clench when he tracked my body’s movements.
He was dangerous.
You could feel it like a suffocating cloud when he was near. It began to concern me more why he hadn’t just dropped me off the roof with Walter.
“Do you know how many Fae have the ability to impel? To seep into your mind and melt it as they wish?” He paused for a moment, then continued when no answer came. “Two.” His eyes flashed wickedly. “And I killed the other.”
My skin prickled with the thought of how powerful he must be to have killed the other. It didn’t seem like that kind of magic would be given to someone weak.
I was doing my best to ignore him, to not give in to my fear, but my eyes betrayed me. It was like a magnet pulled them to his features. The sharp, cruel lines of his face made it impossible not to stare. He was the most horrifyingly beautiful creature. You knew you should run and hide from him, but instead, he consumed you, occupying all your senses in beautiful wonderment.
“I hold your name as a whisper on the tip of my tongue, pet. One command, and you will pull your fingernails off. I could force you to beg for me until your voice gives out. I could manipulate your mind to crave me and melt it.” He spoke confidently as power coated his words.
He wasn’t making threats. Obviously, he wanted to gauge my reaction as he toyed with his mouse. I glared at him.
Those eyes. It was as if they could see into me.
“Then do it already. Kill me. Why drag this torture out longer?”
Fuck. Had I just said that out loud? Why did I taunt him?
His dark brow quirked slightly in challenge, but the evil tug that pulled at his lips was the most unsettling of all his movements yet.
“Because you, my pet, have a party to go to before I kill you.” His voice even seemed to smile now.
Dusty, stale fear clung to my throat. A party full of clawed, evil Fae.
Perfect.
I’d never make it out of that room alive with the hate these creatures held for humans. I was no match for their wings and teeth.
“Fighting isn’t just with fists, Callie. You’re a smart woman. Use what you have.”
Alistair’s words rang in my ear, fighting away the surrender that had begun to cloud my thoughts.
I would leave this Unseelie castle if it were the last thing I did.
I watched as the prince of smoke turned and removed his dark tunic, turning his muscled back to me as he continued to undress.
In the wild, animals didn’t leave their back open unless they either trusted what lay behind them or considered them too weak to do any harm.
I made a silent vow as my eyes followed the pale silhouette of the man in front of me. I would do anything I needed to reach my goals, and I wouldn’t stop now. I would figure a way out of this disgusting place of evil and return to my home of happy sunlight. No matter what it took.
“What are you staring at, monster?” I snarled.
The prince had turned back to face me bare chested, with his shirt in hand. He watched, differently than before.
His body was full of lines and dents where muscles I’d never even seen on humans cut into his body. My stupid eyes lingered on the deep V of that cut down to his groin area. God, what a waste of a gorgeous body on a monster like him. My primal insides stupidly didn’t seem to care that he was evil. It had been a very, very, very long time since I had been involved in any coital activities. All I ever did was work, and now the feminine parts of my body—surely consumed with their own madness—took it upon themselves to whimper a breath of hunger.
If I could have suffocated that breath, I would have.
“Tonight, the entire Unseelie court will gather to look at my human pet, and I can’t have you looking like that. Filthy human, you may be, but you will look your best as my filthy human pet.” He walked close enough to the bars of my cage that the smoke reached out to touch him.
I scooted back until the wall of cold smoke stopped me.
He leaned in and gripped a bar in each hand just above his head. He pushed his head between the bars slowly, and the smoke whispered away, letting his face and chest into the cage. I was trapped.
A cruel look took hold of his eyes. It was almost sultry as the thin line of his mouth pulled slightly up at one side. His blue eyes were the iciest blue color, like water near an iceberg in the coldest sea. His black hair was tied loose in a knot behind his head, showing his pointed ears.
This close, I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. I was pressed as far away from him as I could get, but it wasn’t far enough. Shadows of black stubble covered his sharp jaw and chin. I noticed a small scar on his left cheek where a dimple would be. There was a matching scar just into his left brow. When he grinned—even slightly—the scar produced a dimpled indent in his cheek, granting him a deceptively charming appearance.
“Does my darkness frighten you, Callie?” his deep voice whispered mockingly, and mischief sparkled like a fire in his eyes.
“No,” I stated, lifting my chin. “You haven’t even seen mine yet.”
Bony fingers dug into my scalp, scrubbing away dirt as though their life depended upon it. That would do no good since they were already lifeless shadows. Blue skeletal hands from under a ghost-like cloak of shadows washed me vigorously in the large clawfoot tub. They had removed me from my cage by simply walking through and carrying me to the tub with their deceitfully strong cerulean arms. They had no face or voice and didn’t care how much I protested, though no one here cared about my protests.
The three shadow-maids brushed and pulled at my matted hair as spicy ambrosia-scented soap lathered around me. As much as I wanted to fight it, it felt like heaven. How long had it been since I had bathed?
My home flashed through my mind briefly before I forced it out. The framed posters of wings and creatures lining the walls and my favorite red mushroom mug all threatened to push back in, but I fought it. I couldn’t let myself miss those things; they were no good to me now when I needed to be completely focused for this party.
I was beginning to actually relax and enjoy the bath when they scrubbed my back. When they shaved my legs for me, I thought about taking them with me when I escaped. They swooshed around the large, dark marbled bathroom. The iron wall sconces flickered every time they whooshed past. They painted my nails and toes a deep black, the Unseelie’s favorite color apparently, and even applied makeup to my face in a way that would have shamed makeup artists back home. Deep crimson lips paired with an almost cat-like smokey eye.
Was my hair brighter blonde, or did it just look that way against all the darkness surrounding me?
So much blood and grime had coated me even after the rain that they had to drain the tub and refill it three times with fresh water.
I stared at the mirror in petrified fascination. I had firmed up a bit. The terror-induced shaking must have been better exercise than I would have thought because my stomach muscles seemed a bit stronger, a bit flatter. Apparently, not gorging on hot Cheetos and ramen every day did this to you. They had served some human food nearly every day, so I hadn’t starved.
Human food . . . something about that phrase tickled the back of my mind—a memory of green ferns and Earl. Oh, how I missed Earl. Even though we hadn’t been friends very long, his comforting personality had grown on me fast, and I missed him dearly. Sometimes he reminded me so much of my best friend, Eli. His mother had forced him to move away, and even after I had made the deal with her, he hadn’t returned. It had devastated me. I’d never had a close friend like that again until Earl. Misery threatened to strangle my chest at thoughts of both men.
Human food—Fae food.
My mind flashed to the green ferns again. We had been at the park collecting samples of a mushroom we had hoped would work to save the luna moths—damn moths. I hope they all died now. Earl had been opening up about some of the crazy things he had seen near the destroying angel mushrooms. Black unicorns, something about a winged serpent? Fuck! Why hadn’t I paid more attention! Had he been here?
I stood alone in the large bathroom since the shadow-maids had left, locking the door behind them. My long hair tickled my bare back as I paced in panic and frustration.
That day in the woods, he had said something about not eating Fae food, that it did things to humans. It wasn’t poison—what had he said? God dammit! Something else about drinking the faerie wine.
I slammed my fist on the marbled counter, shaking the large mirror. It rippled slightly. Of course it wasn’t a real mirror. My fingers rose instantly to touch it, curious what its consistency would feel like. The white of my dress shimmered brightly against it.
The dress was stunning and fit like a glove against my curves. It was nicer than anything I had seen at the party last night, save for the queen’s dress. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. Even the prince’s garbage pet had nicer things than them.
It showed a lot of skin, but compared to the disgusting black dress I had been wearing, it felt like angels cloaked my body with clean fabric. It had thin satin straps and dipped low into a V in the front and back, exposing somehow even more cleavage than my small black dress. The deep cut in the back flowed into a small train of bright white fabric. When I moved, the panel of luminous silk parted in the front, exposing my legs clear up to my hipbones on either side. Beautiful rhinestone strapped heels sheathed my feet. It felt so nice to have shoes on again, even if they were high heels.
I moved my finger closer to the odd rippling mirror.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” purred a gravelly voice.
The deep bass of it rumbled over my skin like thunder.
I pulled my hand away from the mirror as if it had bitten me and turned to see the prince as he leaned nonchalantly against the door frame in a crisp black suit. He looked like some sort of Mafia boss, save for the black pointed crown sitting atop his head. Black hair hung sleek and straight down to his shoulders, tucked neatly behind his pointed ears.
I watched him with my breath still held tight in my lungs.
With a sharp gaze, he trailed his eyes up my body, starting at my ankles. Slowly he dragged them up my bare thighs across my waist until the ice in his eyes turned to fire as he took in my face. Reflexively I lifted my chin in quiet defiance.
He shifted off the door frame and prowled toward me—and that’s exactly what it was, a predator prowling toward its prey. My blood turned to ice, and I had to fight off a shiver with the threat of being unprotected in his nearness. He glanced at the liquid mirror.
It had stopped rippling and looked completely normal now.
“It doesn’t like humans either.”
He stepped close enough I could feel the heat from his body. I stepped back instinctively, just as a cockroach ran from his boot. He grabbed my wrist, and a gasp fluttered from my mouth.
The prince’s eyes darkened as he tipped his chin down to peer at me. The harsh line of his mouth flickered at my cry but remained stiff. His hands, free of gloves, felt like ice against my skin, contradicting the heat that came from his body. He stared at me—searing into me with his eyes. He truly hated me—loathed me.
“You’re hair is blonde, not red.”
Had his thumb just caressed my wrist?
He held my wrist up, ever so slowly, toward the mirror. His hateful eyes bore a hole right through me, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to pull away. He seemed to be devouring me. It was all-consuming.
I could see the slow rise and fall of his broad chest at the bottom of my vision. I inhaled sharply. He smelled like a forest fire doused in seductive, lush spices. Like pine and cardamom mixed with something deep and sultry.
Pain shot through my finger as he pushed the tip into the mirror.
I gasped and struggled against him, trying to pull my hand away, but he held it firmly in place.
Burning shocked through my finger like an electrical charge had caught fire to my skin.
He never looked away from my face, not once, and his face showed nothing. It was a statue as he watched me struggle against him. For some reason, I thought I’d see pleasure lining his features, but it was void of anything but a stern expression.
My fear quickly turned to anger.
“For such a powerful prince, you sure seem to be having a difficult time finishing me off. Taking me to a party? Are you trying to fuck me or kill me?” I growled in pain-induced anger.
Something flashed across his features, but it was too quick. When I studied him again, he had already shifted back to the calm and confident prince.
He moved my wrist away from the mirror slowly. The pain ceased immediately, so fast and completely that a small sigh slipped from my lips as I closed my eyes in relief.
When I opened them again, Mendax had somehow stepped even closer, the front of his body brushed against mine as he studied my face, still holding my wrist.
“I could easily kill you, but what fun is hearing half a pitiful scream before I kill you?” His head tilted slightly, giving him a completely unhinged appearance. “No, fun is knowing I can hear hours and hours of your screams whenever I want for as long as I want. But alas, pet, a good king shares with his people, and that is exactly what I will do.”
I stepped back at his words, but his other hand wrapped around my hip, stopping me. His large hand against the silk of my dress sent a surprised shock through my system. Had it been anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from pressing into the feel of them, but not this man. I felt my eyes squint with my own brand of hate as I glared into his.
“I wouldn’t fuck you, human, if my own life depended upon it,” he hoarsely whispered. His warm breath tickled across my face. “Believe me, you detestable mortal, by the end of tonight, you will beg me to end your life.”
He released his hold on me with a cold look and walked toward the door.
My feet trembled, frozen in place with a heady mixture of fear and anger. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to follow or not.
He paused at the door and looked back at me, letting out a two syllabled whistle while he patted the thigh of his black pants. “Come,” he commanded with a rumble and a smirk.
I had to remind myself that if I was ever going to get out of this place, I needed to lay low and not push back. I was no fighter, I was a scientist. He wouldn’t hesitate to experience the joy of killing a human, and I needed to be smart about this. Use what I had.
I blinked the daggers away from my eyes and pushed my shoulders back to imitate a bit of confidence. I needed him to keep me alive long enough that I could escape and finally go home. He may be the first Unseelie I had ever met, but he was certainly not the first predator. I made a living researching predators. He was no different.
I made a show of it as I paused in the mirror to touch up my makeup, pushing my slightly curled hair back behind my shoulders. I sauntered over to the prince channeling every ounce of Queen of the Damned vibes I could muster.
I stepped close to the front of him, close enough that I could practically taste his power. I salaciously peeked at Mendax through my lashes before I lowered my head, averting my eyes in a blatant show of my submission.
There was more than one way to skin a cat.
In the wild, wolves respected the luna wolf because she was the leader of the pack in every respect except that she submitted to the Alpha wolf, and in return, the wolf pack held her to a higher respect and privilege than the others.
A moment passed as I remained motionless in front of him and did my best not to succumb to my senses and run.
The dark sleeve of his shirt rustled as he slowly moved his hand.
Ever so slowly, he placed his entire palm around my neck, moving my chin up so our eyes met.
Two sharp lines creased between his chilling blue eyes as he stared down at me with what looked to be pure confusion and anxiety.
A tremble quivered through my body as his thumb ghosted the hyoid bone just below my jaw.
His grip was gentle enough not to hurt but firm enough to let me know he was dangerous and could snap my neck in a second if he chose to.
Apparently, my body hadn’t gotten the notice that poison came in pretty packages. It leaned into his grip ever so slightly and only a fraction before I forced it to halt, but it was enough to surprise me. I licked my lips, hoping I hadn’t smeared the crimson paint that covered them.
His grip tightened for a second before he pulled away as if my neck had scalded his flesh.
I looked away confidently, feeling like I had won that round, only to feel a cold clamp of iron tighten around my neck. My hands shot up to try and loosen the iron grip.
Twists of heavy smoke clamped around my throat, trailing down to a leash of ashy-gray smoke that Mendax picked up with a smirk.
“You need a collar more stable than my hand, pet,” he growled before he turned and left the room, tugging me behind him like a dog.
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