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Something stirs inside me, an icy surge of hatred so violent it’s a physical thing. I can almost taste it, feel it grow, gather and burn.
I’ve never been more powerless, and yet, this nameless wave of energy doesn’t feel useless.
It’s strong. And it wants to lash out.
Let me out. Let me play. You know you want to.
And I do. I am on the edge of giving in, letting this darkness take over, climb to the surface, though I feel its destructive desires.
I don't care.
Let it all burn.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TOO MANY CHOICES
Ryther
I watch.
From the moment she enters the Hollow, I am drawn to her, and I follow her from the shadows.
Her presence must be the reason why I’ve been uneasy for days, feeling a shift in the very fabric of this world. A few moments of listening in were enough to understand how she’s been dragged here: a deal she didn’t understand.
And how could she?
A younger fool would have snatched her up no matter the stakes, but from the moment she appeared, strung up like a common whore, subdued, energy all but snuffed out, I suspect there's a benefit to letting things play out.
If those idiots want to make an enemy of that thing, who am I to stop them?
I watch her with her master, and I keep my hands behind my back to stop them from twitching. I watch her with her lover, and I don't strangle the life out of his neck for his offense.
Her predicament is entirely of her doing. She’s a beacon of light in the darkness, shining unabashedly.
She should have hidden.
She shouldn’t ever have taken a step into Ilvaris, so young and sweet and useless.
Now she’s the prey of a millennium, and everyone will want a bite as soon as they understand what she is. Who she is.
Do I want a bite? I’m not certain. I’ve never seen the appeal in tasting poisoned fruit. She’s too weak now, but if she lives to see a hundred years, she could destroy us all.
I watch her wide, terrified eyes when she sees the two dozen men and women fucking in the clearing, some on their hands and knees, their clothing brushed aside until they reach their release, others settled on blankets and low stools.
A kinder, weaker man would stop this now. I lean back on the nearest tree.
There is a rut in every fae home worthy of the name, at every gathering, great or small. Open to servants and lords alike, this is where we let go, shedding everything but the animalistic needs within ourselves. And Valdred needs the girl, though he fails to understand why.
I knew Valdred was young, but so is Caenan, and my second would never have been so callous. Valdred proved himself a fool here. He sensed the draw, and instead of asking himself why a mere mortal would so firmly grip his attention, the imbecile pounced, making her his enemy.
He takes his time. He wants her pliant, willing, and ready for him. Humans don’t have the strength or stamina of the folk, and the fool believes her to be just that. A pretty human girl excited to fuck a fairy lord.
He kisses her throat and her shoulder and brushes her clothes aside to wrap his mouth around her nipple as his finger slides between her legs.
Part of me considers if this is enough, but she’s still on the fence. The anger hasn’t won yet. So I let him guide her to her knees, and bring her pretty mouth to his groin.
The tinge of annoyance when he puts two fingers deep in her mouth is unexpected. I’ve never been one to dislike a show.
