Page 54 of Facade

The sincerity in his tone and expression made me feel like I could tell him anything. That I could share my worst, darkest secret, and he'd still look at me like he did in this moment. Then again, he could be the spider with his web hidden in plain sight, and I refused to fly into it. He’d shown me a small piece of himself earlier, and while it tugged at that deeper string connected to my heart, what if I only saw what I wanted to see?

“I don’t know. It’s been the same dream, just different scenarios, I guess. The region is always vast green…” I paused, rummaging through the details. “There’s always the mountains, but I’ve never been close enough in my dreams to make out details. Their snow-capped, and there’s the sound of a waterfall… but it’s just a dream.” I shrugged.

“When did they start?” His knee brushed against mine as he leaned forward.

“I guess around a year after Cressida took my memories. I’ve always wondered if my dreams were small glimpses of my past because the day she took them, I overheard her tell Queen Valentina that she wasn’t sure how well my memories could be held due to my age.”

“Have you… ever seen someone you know or recognize in your dreams?”

“No, but there are other beings. They seem to be celebrating or something.” Aiden looked away for a moment. “Oddly enough, I’ve seen moonflowers in them. I recognized them at Thaddeus’s. I know it sounds crazy, but in my dream, I knew exactly what they were.” His head snapped back to me, eyes dark. I swallowed thickly as I pressed on. “Do you think I’m dreaming of another part of the Eastern Realm? Or maybe… another realm entirely?”

Risky. So damn risky sharing these things with him. Earlier warnings battled against how comfortable and safe he made me feel.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not sure. I was told your family was from the Queen’s lands in the south. But that’s all.”

“Then why does the King want me?” My voice cracked. I’d been shoving my worry deep down—burying it—focusing on my conflicting feelings with Aiden instead.

He took a deep breath, leaning away from me. “The King trades slaves around all the time. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to request a transfer from the Queen.”

“But it’s customary to go through all of this to transport them?” I deadpanned.

The side of his mouth curved, that stupid dimple showing. “I may have taken things a step further.”

“To use me as bait,” I accused.

His eyes flashed, that otherworldly light illuminating them briefly.

“To keep you safe.”

My throat dried beneath his intense gaze and I was forced to look away.

“I had kind of hoped there was something special about me,” I mused, attempting to get his attention away from the way my body reacted—my racing heart, flushed skin. “Dimitri already told me I wasn’t a Werewolf. I thought maybe that’s why my memories had been taken—because I was something else entirely. Guess not,” I hurried on.

Amusement flickered across his face when I dared a peek.

“You asked Dimitri if you were a Werewolf?” A laugh escaped past his lips as he stood, fangs flashing. I ground my teeth as my brows drew together.

“It’s not funny,” I growled.

A bang on the door, then Malachai’s deep voice sounded, “Dimitri is about to head out. We need to meet with him downstairs before he leaves.”

Before Aiden could say anything more, or ensnare me in his endless blue gaze, I hurried to the door, where Malachai’s frame blocked the hall. I briefly met his golden stare before I squeezed past him and made it down to the dining area.

Dimitri was back at the bar, whispering into Marigold’s ear. The act was extremely sensual as his hand caressed her arm, a giggle escaping her at whatever he whispered, pushing her breasts up higher as she leaned toward him.

I glowered as I shoved into a chair and stared out the fogged window. I pulled one sleeve back, running my thumb over the ink. Shackles. I should be angry. I should be resentful. I should be disgusted by any touch, flirtation, or smile. Instead, those actions left me craving the very thing I should hate.

Him.

15

Evanee

I sat rigidly between Malachai and Aiden. Neither spoke, which wasn’t unusual. Dimitri strolled over and slung himself into the chair across from me, a smile plastered to his face. I ground my teeth and looked away, but not before I saw him frown. I realized if I'd forgiven Aiden, I should forgive him, too. But I couldn’t get the image of him lunging for Fletcher out of my head. Maybe he has a blood oath with the King, too. Didn’t matter. I couldn’t look at him right now.

Marigold gushed about the town and all it had to offer as she brought us steaming plates of roasted chicken, accompanied by a side of steamed potatoes and carrots. She brushed her hand against Dimitri’s shoulder, and he gave her a wolfish grin—my face twisted into a grimace at the exchange. Would she still be attracted to him if she knew what he’d done? Possibly. She was Fae after all. Her hand extended toward Malachai—a rumble in his chest and a ‘go to hell’ glare had her instantly retracting her hand. Hot tea shot from my nose as a snort escaped. Four pairs of eyes snapped to me—I fell into a fake coughing fit, dabbing my face with a napkin.

We quietly dug into our food as a few locals came in and took a seat at the small bar in all their finery. They cast sidelong glances at us and whispered amongst themselves. Malachai kept one eye cast their way as Marigold spoke lowly to them, eyes flicking between the patrons and us.