A Cage of Moonlight Page 2

  Prince Taveon gave the horses a quick pat on the backside before turning toward the cluster of trees once again. The animals set off with a start, galloping down the path away from them. Interesting that he would even bother, Bree thought to herself. The Dark Fae didn’t seem like the kind of beings to particularly care about any creatures other than themselves. Sometimes, the Light Fae even referred to them as demons. Plus, there was that whole feeding on the energy of humans thing.

  But Bree didn’t have long to think about the actions of her new master. The sound of heavy footsteps broke through the quiet night, and the crash of limbs crackled like gunshots. Bree bent her knees and braced herself for whatever would come next, and she tried to clamp down the fear that had sent her heart racing.

  At least a dozen Wilde Fae broke through the trees. They screamed in rage as they barrelled straight toward the two travellers. Their eyes were wild and tinged in red, and their sharp teeth glinted underneath the brilliant moonlight. Bree swallowed hard and tightened her grip around the golden hilt. How would the two of them take on so many Wilde Fae?

  As they drew closer, Bree scanned the group. They were bigger than Prince Taveon. Almost twice as tall and wider, thicker, more muscular. Their faces were gnarled and twisted, large bulbous noses and scars on every cheek. As they stormed toward the two of them, their long, stringy hair streamed out behind them, highlighting the yellowish sheen to their skin.

  “They look like orcs,” Bree muttered as she took a step closer to the Prince.

  “What are orcs?” he asked.

  Bree rolled her eyes. “Nevermind.”

  Sometimes, she forgot where she was: a world where no one had read Lord of the Rings. Fairy tales were not stories here. They were real.

  “Take on the smaller ones. I’ll focus on the rest.”

  Prince Taveon raised his sword and charged toward the Wilde Fae. Bree’s breath got caught in her throat as she watched him run straight into the heart of the storm. The smaller ones? As far as Bree could tell, none of these creatures were particularly small. Still, she raised her dagger and followed Prince Taveon, and the next few moments became nothing but the clash of steel.

  As Bree entered the fray, she came face to face with a female who—in her eyes—was practically a giant. Bree swallowed hard and tipped back her head to stare up at the fae. Her hair was bone white, and her teeth were yellow. She hissed and slashed a blood-caked dagger at Bree’s head, and the entire world around Bree began to slow.

  Bree’s powers were limited, but they were still there. The heightened sense of smell and hearing had never come to her, not like they had for Norah. She couldn’t control the elements of her season because she didn’t have one. She’d become a fae, but she hadn’t become an Autumn, a Summer, a Spring, or a Fall. Instead, she was just Bree. Bree with her beastly shapeshifting form. But with that form came a few perks.

  For one, she could move impossibly fast, though she had never been certain whether she was actually spinning like a whirlwind or whether the world was slowing down when she moved. Probably, it was the former.

  The Wilde Fae’s blade moved toward her head as if it was dragging its way through a thick tub of molasses. Bree ducked down, twisting her own blade and aiming it right at the fae’s stomach. Because that was about as high as Bree could manage to get it.

  The Wilde Fae screamed when her dagger missed its mark, and then she screamed even louder when Bree’s weapon sunk deep into her flesh. Bree gritted her teeth as a dark sticky blood poured from the wound. She hated blood, though there was a deep dark part of her—the beast—that craved it.

  The light died from the fae’s eyes, and Bree pulled the dagger from her body just in time to block a blow from another attacker. This time, she faced off against a male. And he was even bigger than the female and a hell of a lot faster. Bree ducked. Again and again as he swung wildly at her neck. She didn’t even get a second to blink, his attack so frenzied and ferocious.

  The beast within her grumbled, as if slowly waking from an endless slumber. Her teeth began to ache, and her stomach clenched tight. Even though she’d taken the Starlight cure that allowed her to control the beast, it was still awake inside of her. She carried it around with her wherever she went, and it lusted for the sweet taste of fresh blood and flesh. It wanted her to let go. It wanted her to transform and slash these fae to pieces with her long and jagged claws.

  Bree swallowed hard and blinked those thoughts away. And then she jumped as high as she could before stabbing the fae right in the throat. He fell within an instant, vacant eyes staring up at a raven-filled sky.

  When she turned, she found the rest of the Wilde Fae had fallen. Along with the Prince, who was sprawled across the ground with gooey blood caked on his luminous face.

  She strode toward him, anger and fear churning through her. He looked so different like this. Almost small and broken, even though she knew he was nothing of the sort. He was dangerous, conniving, and violent. He wanted to use her for his own gain, not for the help of others. He had lied to her to get her here, and he wanted her to become his vessel of murder.

  “You know I could stab you right now and go straight back home,” Bree said as she stood over Prince Taveon.

  “You could but you will not.” He smiled up at her with a kind of smug superiority Bree wanted to smack right off his face.

  “You think you know me, but you don’t,” she snapped. “You’ve never even spoken to me until today, and barely at that. You think you own me now, but in truth, I could do anything I wanted to you right this second. And no one would ever know.”

  “I know you, Bree Paine,” he murmured up at her. “You are fierce and loyal and stubborn. You are also weak. You could kill me now and go back, but you will not.”

  Bree continued to stand over him, her blood boiling. She hated that he thought he knew her. And she hated that he was right about everything. Almost everything, at least. She would not become a slave to this cruel fae. She would not kill for him. She would not lose every last shred of humanity she had left.

  “You’re the only one who knows that Princess Norah killed the King.” She raised her weapon. “Otherworld will never be safe as long as you’re alive.”

  And with that, she made her last kill.

  Chapter 2

  Bree

  Bree didn’t stick around to see his last breath, but she knew it would come. The blade had gone right into his heart. Tears streamed down her face at the horror of it, and her feet pounded in time with the heavy beating of her heart. She hated what she had done. Killing was the last thing she ever wanted to do. It was why becoming a Redcap had been so torturous for her. The bloodlust drove her wild. A bloodlust she had wanted to rip out of her skin.

  It was a long way back to the Faerie Ring that would lead her home to Otherworld, and she no longer had a horse. For a brief moment, she considered letting her beastly form take over. It was itching to get out, making her skin pulse with the need to run, run, run.

  But as awful as she felt about what she’d done, she also felt unspeakable relief. She would not be turned into a champion, an assassin, or whatever else the Prince had planned for her. She would be free, and Otherworld would be safe. No one would ever know what had happened to the King or the Prince, and the Light Fae’s realm could continue on as normal.

  Except...a little voice in the back of her head reminded her that some things were still very much not fixed yet. There was still the Tithe to worry about. All the innocent humans who would be lost because of it. She didn’t know how they would end the Tithe now.

  Up ahead, she could see the dark stone ring that would lead her back to the Light Fae’s realm. Almost there.

  Heavy wings beat overhead. More ravens? No, these wings sounded like thunder, like they were ten times heavier, and they were coming close. Frowning, Bree slowed her steps and paused to gaze overhead.

  Two enormous silver wings pounded against the air, protruding from the bloody back of a very a
ngry and very alive-looking Prince Taveon. Bree’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach at the sight of the fae, and dread poured through every vein in her body. All she could do was stand there, dumb-founded, staring up at him.

  How the hell had he survived?

  He’d been seconds away from death when she’d left him. The blade had gone straight into his heart. Blood had painted the ground all around his broken body.

  The blade was gone now, along with his shirt, though the blood was still caked to his slick, luminous chest. One with tightly-coiled muscles that rippled as his wings beat the air. He had found a rope somewhere, and he had slung it around his neck. The ends swirled in the air from the force of his powerful wings. Bree swallowed hard and took a step back, not sure whether to scream or run or both.

  Instead, she settled for staying rooted to the spot, calling to the beast within her. Maybe if she transformed into her wolfish counterpart, she’d have a chance at fighting back. Maybe the beast could take on this monstrous Dark Fae.

  Because damn, did Prince Taveon look as though he were itching for a fight.

  He settled down on the ground before her as the force of his wings formed a tornado around her shaking body. Her hair whipped at her face, and the scent of smokey death filled her head. She took another step back, staring at the Prince. Hot breath shot from his flared nostrils as he eyed her with a ferocious intensity that made her knees quake.

  “You killed me.” His voice was a deep growl that slithered across her skin.

  She raised her eyebrows. Interesting choice of words. He certainly didn’t look like she had killed him.

  “I showed your world mercy. I intended to keep your dear Princess safe.” His nostrils flared even more. “And you repay that favor by killing me while I lay bleeding before you.”

  “I think you might be confused. You don’t look dead to me.”

  In fact, he was breathtakingly alive. Blindingly so. It was hard not to stand and stare at him. Before, it had been impossible not to notice that he was easy on the eyes. His smooth dark hair, that strong jaw. But now, he was on a totally different level. Power rippled off him in waves, so fast and furious that Bree felt knocked senseless by his very presence.

  He blinked, shuddering as he folded those massive silver wings of his behind his back. And she felt as though she could breathe slightly easier, now that she didn’t have to stand there transfixed and staring at them. That didn’t fix his bare chest though.

  “I am impossible to kill,” he merely said. “Or harm. At least for more than a few moments.”

  “Right...” Bree frowned. “Wait a minute. I thought you got injured back in Otherworld. That’s why Norah brought you back to the castle in the first place. So that Liam could heal you.”

  “I was not truly harmed then either. I needed an excuse to be taken to your castle.” He pressed his lips into a grim line. “That is your first lesson of Underworld. Never trust the words of a Dark Fae.”

  Another lie. Another falsehood. For what? To get close to Princess Norah? To gain her trust? So that he could then steal Bree away to Underworld.

  Bree took a step back, shaking her head. “What are you going to do to me?”

  He pulled the rope over his head and took several large strides toward her. She backed up quickly, her eyes darting left and right. “I shall take you back to the castle like I had planned. And you will become my champion and my Redcap assassin.”

  She stumbled back. No. She wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t let it happen—

  “And Bree?” He gave her a cruel smile. “If you try to run again, if you try to kill me, then I vow to tell my Court exactly how my father died. And I will not stand in their way when they want to kill every last Light Fae alive.”

  Her whole body trembled as she stayed exactly where she was. He’d given her no other choice, she realized. She’d happily risk her own life to get the hell out of here, but she wouldn’t risk the lives of anyone else, especially not those she loved. As he strode behind her to wrap the rough rope around her wrists, she ground her teeth together. She’d never hated anyone more than in that moment.

  One day, she would get her revenge on him. One day, she’d show him exactly what she thought about him and his stupid realm.

  Until then, she just had to hope the deeds he made her do wouldn’t break her soul into a million tiny pieces along the way. She had to hope she could hold on to her humanity.

  The horses were long gone, so Bree and Prince Taveon were forced to continue with the rest of their journey on foot, Bree stumbling behind Taveon as he yanked her down the path. Every single time he did that, the ropes would dig even deeper into her raw skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to merrily walk along like nothing was wrong.

  There wasn’t much she could do to rebel against him, so a little pain felt worth making his journey as difficult as possible.

  It took several more hours to reach the castle, a hulking monstrosity that rose up from the beautiful scenery like an ugly toenail. Everything was all sharp angles and drab steel gray. Skinny towers sprouted from the ground, narrowing into jagged peaks that cut through the inky sky. The sight of it made Bree shiver, even though she wasn’t cold.

  This was where she would be living for at least a few years. Maybe even the rest of her life.

  “I guess you Dark Fae aren’t really into the aesthetic side of things, huh?”

  Prince Taveon’s jaw rippled as they slowly approached the gates that were guarded by half a dozen armed guards. “My father had this castle built as a demonstration of his rule. He wanted it to reflect who he was as a pointed message for his subjects.”

  “Right.” A beat passed. “So, his message was that he’s got a bit of a inferiority complex.”

  Taveon raised his eyebrows in question.

  Bree gestured to the towers, a slight smile playing across her lips. “Those are very phallic towers. One might think he was trying to make up for a lack in other...areas.”

  At that, the Prince’s lips quirked, which surprised her. She thought that comment would have pissed him right off. “Best not say that kind of thing once we get inside.”

  “Why? Your oh-so-loyal subjects who want to fight you for your crown might think you’re suffering from a similar issue?” She barked out the words without even thinking.

  He scowled and yanked hard against the rope, making her tumble forward and almost splat face-first on the ground.

  “I told you to show me respect. If you do not behave, then I will have to make an example of you in front of the Court.”

  She wanted to snap back, but she didn’t know what to say.

  When they reached the gates, several guards clad in all black approached while two more began to push open the heavy doors. Their faces were covered by steel helmets, only revealing sets of reddish eyes. Bree found them unnerving, to say the least. Things were different here in Underworld. The fae of Otherworld were so much more in tune with nature. They wore billowing cloaks full of color. These fae liked metal and black.

  “Prince Taveon,” one of the guards barked out. “Why are you on foot? Where is your father? Who is this prisoner you have with you?”

  They didn’t mention the blood or the fact the Prince didn’t have a shirt on, when those were the first things Bree would have noticed herself.

  “Please send word that I would like to gather the council together immediately,” Prince Taveon said in a clipped tone of voice that caught Bree off guard. He hadn’t exactly sounded soft before, but this tone was so much harder, so much more full of steel. “And do not speak of this to any of the other guards. Keep my request as quiet as possible, for now.”

  “Yes, my Prince.” The guard gave a slight bow and scurried off through the now open gate while Bree turned to the Prince with a lifted eyebrow.

  “Why all the secrecy? You’re not going to tell the guards?”

  “The news of his death will not be taken well. It must be handled carefully,” Taveon said, his j
aw flickering. “But that is none of your concern.”

  Bree fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Of course. In his eyes, it wasn’t her concern. She was just his slave, a captive. Already she could tell he was going to be one of those. The kind of fae who wouldn’t tell her anything but the bare minimum. The kind of fae who liked to keep secrets, even when she’d been involved in this whole thing every step of the way. And it was already starting to piss her right off.

  “Whatever,” she said. “I didn’t want to know anyway.”

  Oh, but she did want to know. She just wasn’t going to let him know how much she hated the fact he wouldn’t tell her. She wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand in anything else.

  “Come on.” He yanked her forward, and the ropes dug into her skin once more. She glared at his back as she stumbled forward. The cuts from the Wilde Fae attack had completely disappeared, the red splotches fading into smooth golden skin. The fact he showed no remnants of the attack only made the anger she felt toward him grow even more. It wasn’t fair.

  He yanked her through the courtyard and into a large building with few windows overlooking the faerie lands outside. Sconces lined the walls, and a yellowish light danced against the stone from the small fires. The Prince was completely silent, and the only sounds were their footsteps echoing through the empty space.

  Bree hated the silence. She had to get him talking again, more for her sanity than anything else.

  “So, how does the energy work then? Is that why you can’t be killed? It makes Dark Fae truly immortal?”

  Bree thought he would refuse to answer her, but after a moment, he let out an irritated sigh. “Most Dark Fae can be killed.”

  “But not you.” A pause. “Why?”

  “The reasons why are none of your concern.” He jerked her to a stop just outside a thick wooden door. “Stop asking so many questions.”