Page 51 of Facade

Aiden dragged me over to Shadow, putting me astride.

“What about my hands?”

Aiden looked at me with a blank face. “What about them?”

“You can’t seriously leave me tied like this.” I glared at him through narrowed eyes.

“You’re right.” He smirked. He pulled a knife from the holster on his waist, and I held my head high as he cut the strap, trying to mask the relief I felt at being freed.

But my relief was short-lived when he pulled my hands in front of me with a new strap.

“What the hell—”

“You shouldn’t have tried to run,” was all he said as he pulled the leather tight and winked.

A frustrated cry tore from me, blending with the approaching skurs’ horrific sounds.

Aiden settled in behind me, locking his arm around my waist. Dimitri and Malachai rode ahead of us, and as Aiden set Shadow at a rapid pace, a feral roar tore out in the night, reverberating in my chest. It was terrifying, but something deep inside me sparked—something I couldn’t explain.

A shiver coursed through my back, making me shudder. I twisted to look past Aiden. Two silver beacons laced with blue flashed briefly before they were gone. Heat sizzled in my veins. Aiden nudged me to face forward as the air charged—a storm brewed around us. Just like the one brewing inside me.

14

Evanee

Brixton was like nothing I’d ever seen—nothing I could remember, anyway. Cobblestone streets cut through the town in neat lines, shops tucked close on either side. Fae milled about shopping, greeting one another, laughing, and so on as though there wasn’t suffering clawing at the realm outside their bubble.

Their outfits were drenched in excessively vibrant colors. A female glided past in a blinding pink gown, a purple fan lined with ivory lace in her hand, which she hid behind with a shy little smile for the males passing by. Shrouding herself in mystery—luring them, more like it. Another wore an outfit like mine, though her leggings and top were clean—free from the stains of mud, the stench of fear, and the grime of captivity that clung to mine.

Even the males strutted about in finery, unaffected by the war and chaos surrounding their little paradise. The ones I traveled with may not be overly scarred or maimed, but their expressions said enough. However, the males of Brixton seemed genuinely happy and unconcerned. My lip curled as one of them dipped his teal top hat at us with a smile that showed far too many teeth. They all moved about in blissful denial, either blind to the darkness and cruelty devouring towns like Chairn, or in willful ignorance. Either way, their precious little town remained unmolested, and it unsettled me to my core.

I rolled my neck, breathing deeply through my nose, as I tried to shake off the lingering irritation. At least my hands weren’t tied anymore. Aiden had untied me after a few hours of riding if I promised to ‘behave’. Like I had a choice. Between the damn skur’s, my wrists rubbing raw, and the awkwardness of bathroom breaks, I desperately needed my hands untied. So, I begrudgingly obliged.

I hadn't spoken to him, though. The horror of what happened to those humans—what I caused to happen—was haunting me. I should've just kept quiet. I’d known I wouldn’t get far anyway with the proximity spell. Still, I'd been selfish, and now my soul was marked with their deaths.

We made it through the town, crossing a huge wooden bridge arching over a wide, deep river. It dragged back images of the river that had been my sanctuary at Castle Aurelia—or at least a beautiful distraction. My time there felt like another life. The question remains whether it was a good life that I was forced to leave behind, compared to what might await me at the end of this journey.

The stable was connected to a separate building labeled “Marigolds Inn.” The stable master hobbled toward us, blowing hot air into his hands. A pang of longing hit me sharply. His graying hair and kind face made me think of Micah. It caught me off guard—that slight pang of homesickness. I never thought I would miss my prison.

“Morning, folks. How may I help?” He was shorter for a Fae. His weathered smile seemed genuine as he made his way to Dimitri’s mare and ran a hand down her neck.

Aiden smiled. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest at the stupid dimple that formed.

“We need to rent some stalls for the horses, and I need your discretion with the brown and white mare,” Aiden said the last bit in a lowered voice, holding out a hefty bag of coins.

The stable master took the coins and weighed the bag in his hand, the muffled clinking filling the momentary silence.

“Very well! Very well indeed.” He beamed. “I’ll take good care of them. Supposed to get very cold tonight. We don’t get many visitors here this time of year,” he commented with a side look at Aiden, then the rest of us, before he cleared his throat and grabbed the Empyrean’s lead. “Where are you folks headed?”

“My wife’s kin have passed away. We’re headed north for the funeral,” Aiden responded with an apologetic glance my way. I kept my attention on the stable master, avoiding Aiden at all costs. The old male turned, looked at Dimitri and Malachai, their muscular frames, then at us.

“Uh-huh…” he drawled. “Well, I’m surely sorry for your loss.” He tipped his head to me, his mouth turned down in obvious empathy.

“Thank you.” My words were flat. Uncharacteristically cold.

The ruse re-stoked a fire in me that hadn’t quite fizzled out from my contempt of this place. Especially with the apparent joy Aiden had in the facade. Infuriating, was putting it lightly.

Dimitri cleared his throat, dragging a hand over his stubble in the awkwardness as Aiden’s jaw tightened.