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“What is the matter?” His voice was quiet as he spoke. Faenir was so close to me now that I caught the scent that clung to his silver-toned shirt, rosewood entwined with something sweeter. I found myself pondering what it was and forgetting about my concerns as he drew closer.
“You…” I muttered, having to look up at Faenir as he stood before me. He was far taller than I first believed. My position accentuated the sharp structure of his face. The tips of his cupid’s bow were curved perfectly. His nose was straight and proud. Faenir’s skin was kissed by sun, golden like his eyes which only stood out as the tumbling of raven-black hair fell over his shoulders. Up close I could see plaits woven into his hair; red string twisted amongst them.
His closeness only entrapped me for a moment. As Faenir slowly lifted a hand towards the strand of stubborn, blond hair that had fallen over my eye, I snapped out of my stupor and attacked.
“Take me fucking home,” I cried over the crunch of my fist as it finally slammed into his face. That perfect nose was not perfect anymore; it was bent. Streams of red blood poured freely; some splattered across my knuckles while the rest spread across the lower half of his face.
“I… cannot.” Faenir rocked back, bright eyes wide but not from fear, from intrigue. He raised a hand to his broken nose and traced his finger down it.
I struck out again, slamming my fists into his rock-solid chest. Faenir didn’t move an inch. He stood tall, hardly moved by the thundering of my fists. Nor did he stop me. Blood ruined his shirt.His blood, pouring freely from the damage I had caused.
“I fear I have made a mistake,” Faenir said only when I stopped.
I cried furiously, tears of frustration and desperation rolling down my face. My blood covered hands hurt, the bones in my knuckles each screaming with the demand to rest.
“This is not how I imagined this day to be.”
“Please…” I dropped to my knees, not caring for the pain as they met the marble floor. Fat, red droplets of his blood splattered like spring rain around his feet. It was both beautiful and frightening. “I just want to go home.”
“Arlo.”
I winced as he said my name but dared look up.
“If it makes you feel any better, know that your sister will be well rewarded. Just as the families of the other Chosen are.”
I bowed my head, chin to chest, from exhaustion. Deep down I did not want him to see me cry. Holding back such emotion was impossible when one felt lost and terrified.
“Why…?” I said, eyes stinging as I looked back up at him. “You left without a Chosen and came back. Why me?”
Faenir knelt before me, still keeping his hands to himself. I hardly blinked as I watched him with intent, not wishing to miss a single movement. I had seen what his touch could do if he wished, and I was not prepared to die. Even if he had kept himself from me this entire time.
Not yet. My mind raced to the vial of vampire blood in my pouch. One. It would only last near a month at most… that was all.
“If what you desired most in the world was suddenly presented to you on a gilded platter, would you not do what you could to take it?”
Faenir’s question was given in answer to mine, however I could not make sense as to what it meant.
“Would you?” he asked again, breath coming out softly. Even with his face covered in his own blood and his deathly power a horrific reminder he was dangerous, I was not scared of him.
“I have faced monsters far more frightening than you, elf.”
Faenir paused, regarded my comment and then stood. “Then you will be well suited to your new home. Monsters.” Faenir laughed dryly, turned his back on me and walked towards the open door. “There are plenty of those lurking this side ofmyrealm.”
“Wait…” I shouted, pushing myself up with urgency.
Faenir stopped briefly. He did not turn back to face me, but instead rolled his shoulders and straightened his posture as though preparing to walk out of this room and into another filled with a crowd of adoring followers. “I suggest you rest. We will speak further on the matter over dinner.”
I watched, helplessly, as my captor left the room, his swishing dark ruby cloak the last thing I saw. Even as the door shut behind him, I expected to hear the turn of a lock.
The door was not secured.
Standing deathly still I waited for as long as I could handle, using the thumping crashes of my heart to make sense of the time between when he had left me. I managed until the twenty-fourth count before I gathered myself and followed him.
If Faenir was not going to take me home, I would find my way back myself.
For Auriol’s sake.
And mine.
