A Cage of Moonlight (Dark Fae Academy Book 1) Page 7

  Bree wished she could ignore these feelings, but they were like a runaway train that was about to slam right into her.

  Rafe was inescapably gorgeous. There was no other word that accurately described this male. Good-looking was a severe understatement. Attractive didn’t cut it either. And handsome was far too standard. Gorgeous, breathtaking, beautiful.

  He was beautiful with his silver eyes and that strong jaw that could cut through pure ice.

  And he was kind. He’d been nice to her when no one else had. He’d worried about her well-being. Such a simple thing, really, but it meant the world when no other fae in this realm could give a damn if she lived or if she died. He’d gotten her out of that hall to look after her when showing concern for a slave would make him look weak and inconsequential to the rest of the Court.

  Her heart charged forward, even as she tried to warn it to stop.

  “Bree,” Rafe said, searching her eyes with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said in a tight voice, glancing away.

  “Then, let’s get you to bed. Point the way.”

  Bree didn’t say another word, instead falling silent as he lifted her from the floor and into his arms. A strange sound exploded from her throat at the shock of it, but she didn’t protest. He slid one arm under her back and another under her legs, and Bree wrapped her hands around his neck, heart raging like a bull.

  He kicked open the door and strode into the dungeon hallway. Almost as soon as he’d started walking, he stopped short.

  “This cannot be right. Where are your quarters?”

  “Around the bend and at the end of the hallway. On the right.”

  Rafe’s frown remained, but he continued the short trek down the dimly-lit corridor. When they came to the end of the hallway, Rafe glared into the cell that Bree called home. It held a few books now, a candle, and a bucket of water. She guessed that was all the care that Prince Taveon could rustle up. At least she could have a wash now.

  “Taveon is keeping you here?” Rafe asked, his voice tight.

  “Yep,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Welcome to my lovely home.”

  “This will not do,” he said. “This is not right.”

  “Careful, Rafe,” she said, trying to keep the humor in her voice, even if it wasn’t in her heart. “Don’t want anyone hearing you question the Prince.”

  He glanced at her then, his eyes softening. “That is the first time you have called me Rafe.”

  Heat spread through her cheeks and her neck. “Is that okay? Or is that against some kind of Court rule?”

  He shot her a brilliant smile, the one that made his lips look kind of crooked. “Yes, Bree. You can call me Rafe. In fact, I insist upon it.”

  Bree grinned back, though her smile faded just as quickly. “Prince Taveon didn’t tell you he was keeping me in the dungeons.”

  “No.” His smile vanished, too. “He failed to mention that aspect of your situation. I knew he was keeping you behind locked doors, but I did not know he resorted to keeping you in one of these filthy cells that sees no moonlight and has no access to fresh air.”

  “Well, here we are.” Bree spread her arms and let out a bitter laugh. “Home sweet home.”

  Rafe gave Bree a funny look. “You humans have a strange definition of sweet if this is what sweet truly is.”

  She had to laugh at that. “No, Rafe. I didn’t really mean this is sweet. It was sarcasm. A joke. I called it sweet because it’s the opposite of sweet. Nevermind.”

  He was still giving her an odd look, one that made her feel like a specimen in a lab. “I do hate to leave you here like this, Bree, but I do not know where else I can take you.”

  “It’s really okay, Rafe.” She shrugged. “It sucks, but I’m getting used to it.”

  “You deserve better. So much better.” He reached out and brushed his thumb across her cheek. Bree’s body went taut, and her breath stilled in her lungs. Rafe’s eyes slightly widened, as if he’d only just realized what he’d done. And then he was down the corridor faster than she could blink.

  Her feet moved after him, instinctively. He’d left the cell door open. She could follow. Or she could find her way out of here.

  But the pain still throbbed in her shoulder, and two guards must have realized what had happened. Because they were outside her cell and locking her inside within moments.

  Tonight, she wouldn’t escape, but maybe one day she would.

  Chapter 10

  Rafferty

  Rafferty was beginning to feel some things about the Redcap girl that scared him. He felt protective towards her in a way he hadn’t expected, and a fondness for those bright blue eyes of hers, the ones that burned with a fierce intensity that was difficult to ignore.

  Bree had a fire in her, and Rafe liked it. She didn’t take anything sitting down, and she refused to give in to things she did not want. He appreciated that about her. He even admired it, to his own detriment. Because he’d almost appreciated the way she’d stood up to Taveon, particularly when he’d found out that his old friend had been keeping the poor girl in a dungeon cell.

  He knocked on the door of Taveon’s chambers, and the Prince answered with a weary kind of slump to his shoulders. His old friend looked as though he’d been defeated already. Maybe he had. Whoever had shot that arrow meant to take the Prince down by any mean’s necessary.

  “Taveon,” Rafe said, finding it difficult to keep the irritation out of his voice. He strode into the room and crossed his arms while the Prince bolted the door behind him. “I need to speak with you about something.”

  Taveon gave him an absent-minded nod. “I assume you are here about Bree. Is she well? Were you able to heal her?”

  Rafe frowned. “You might know the answers to those questions if you had come with us when we left the Great Hall.”

  “You know I could not do that, Rafe. The Court would call me too weak and too soft to rule the realm. Besides, I had to attempt to find the fae who shot the arrow. He was gone far too quickly to track though.”

  Maybe you not ruling would not be such a bad thing, Rafe couldn’t help but think. He was starting to wonder if the quest for the crown was turning his friend into the very thing he’d always sworn not to be: his father.

  “She was gravely injured,” Rafe said. “She could have died.”

  “She was in your care, and she is a shapeshifter,” Taveon replied. “You would never have let that happen. Now, will you please update me on her status?”

  The Prince rarely asked for things, and he hardly ever phrased his words as questions. The fact he had was a signal to Rafe that Taveon cared more about his slave than he wanted to let on.

  “I had her shift into her beast and back several times. It appears to have healed the wound.” A pause. “And then I returned her to her quarters so that she could get some rest in bed.”

  Taveon crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose you have an opinion on her housing situation.”

  “You know I do, old friend. You should not be keeping her in the dungeons.”

  “I have no other choice,” Taveon replied. “She tried to kill me, Rafe. Not only can she not be trusted in standard quarters but the council would find it most strange if I did not keep her in a cell.”

  “She tried to kill you because she was angry and scared.” Rafe sucked in a deep breath. “Just consider it, my old friend. If you are going to make her fight for you, at least make her life a little easier.”

  Taveon glowered. “We shall see.”

  “She thinks you ordered someone to shoot that arrow at her, you know.”

  “What?” Taveon’s eyes went wide. “Why in the name of the forest would she think such a thing?”

  “Because that is all you have shown her.” A beat passed. “She does not know the true side of you, the one you will not let the Court see for fear they will not let you rule. Maybe it is time that everyone knows the true Taveon, the Taveon who will not be the kind o
f cruel King that Midas was.”

  “Good.” Taveon gave an absent-minded nod. “Let her continue to think it. She can imagine me a monster if she likes. There is no reason for her to feel warmth toward me. I would warn you of the same, but I can tell you are already far past that, my old friend.”

  Rafe flinched and glanced away. Were his emotions that easy to read? Were his thoughts so readily plastered across his face?

  He had always been an open book, especially in front of Taveon. The two had never been very good at keeping secrets from each other. But they were exceptionally good at keeping their shared secrets from the rest of the world. Secrets they did not dare speak aloud, not inside the confines of this castle where there were eyes and ears behind every corner, just waiting to discover anything they could to take the Prince’s chances away.

  “Are you certain you want your champion to hate you?” Rafe asked, instead of responding to the Prince’s pointed comments about his softening feelings toward the Redcap girl. “Your champion’s motivations will not be particularly strong if she thinks you are willing to wound her with arrows for the slightest of crimes.”

  “It is a fight to the death, Rafe. She will have motivation enough.”

  “And you do not worry?” Rafe asked, striding closer to his friend. “What if she dies? Do you not care?”

  Rafe was beginning to realize he was far more incensed about Bree’s imprisonment than he’d realized. He’d agreed to train the girl, not knowing a damn thing about her. But the longer he trained her and the more time he spent in her company, the more uneasy he felt about the entire thing.

  “She is a Redcap,” Taveon said with a frown. “She will be fighting in her beastly form. If she is well-trained, none of the others will stand a chance against her.”

  “There are other creatures in this realm who could cause issues for her,” Rafe said, even though they were rare. The Battle for the Crown required a champion to fight for the Prince, a champion who also happened to be a shapeshifter. Those fae who could shapeshift into different creatures of the night were few and far between. Even fewer still who could transform into dangerous beasts. Beasts like the one Bree carried deep within her.

  “That is unlikely and you know it.” Taveon’s face softened. “I know you care for the girl. As hard as it is for you to believe, I care about her well-being, too. I would not have her fight for me if I was not certain she could win. No one will be able to beat her. Not even the worst of this realm.”

  Rafe hoped the Prince was right.

  Chapter 11

  Taveon

  Taveon wasn’t certain that visiting Bree was a very good idea, but he found himself standing outside her cell all the same. She was sleeping, a peaceful expression painted across her pixie features. Like this, he couldn’t help but notice how striking she was. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place, when he’d first spotted her in Norah’s castle. Her long hair had been wild and free over her dainty shoulders, and those fierce blue eyes of hers had pierced his soul.

  He’d been quite taken by her beauty, even if she had once been human.

  But then she’d stabbed him, dashing away whatever softness he felt in his heart.

  She rolled over and blinked up at him, sitting up with a stiff straight spine when she saw who it was. “What are you doing here creepily lurking outside of my cell while I’m sleeping?”

  Irritation flickered through him. “I am not creepily watching you sleep, as you so politely describe it.”

  She scowled. “I’m not trying to be polite. You scared the shit out of me. Of course, that’s probably what you were trying to do since I didn’t dance to exhaustion like you wanted me to. Or did the shot in the chest make up for it?”

  Taveon narrowed his eyes. Why oh why did she have to be so vexing?

  He had come down here to apologize. First for inflicting the punishment, then for allowing her to be in a position of danger. He did not know who had shot that bow and arrow, but he intended to find out. In the meantime, he knew Bree needed to be kept safe and hidden, which meant she must stay in the dungeon cell, protected at all times by armed guards.

  But there was another thing he needed to keep her safe from—the Court. If they knew he cared about what happened to her, then the threat against her life would only increase. What happened in the Great Hall would happen again. And again. And again. Until he was forced to bury her corpse. And there was only so long this dungeon and the guards could keep her safe.

  So, he would lie.

  “I just came to see if you liked the little gift I sent to you today.” He flashed her a strained, false smile. “The arrow? That was mine. From my guard, as ordered by me. Your true punishment. Do not attack me again, Bree Paine. Or else next time, that arrow will be aimed at your heart.”

  He didn’t wait around to see what Bree’s reaction would be to his words. He couldn’t bear to see the look in her eyes. Yes, she hated him, but Taveon was all too aware that this would be the final nail in the coffin. Her hatred would become permanent. Whatever hope he’d had that things could one day be different would end in this instant.

  She would think him a monster. And maybe he was.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. You really had that arrow shot?” Bree yelled at his retreating back. Taveon stiffened but didn’t slow down. “Stop right now and explain yourself to me. If you leave now, I’ll only think the worst.”

  Taveon did not stop, even though he yearned to turn back and tell her the truth. But he couldn’t. Letting her believe he was a monster was the only way to keep her safe.

  Chapter 12

  Bree

  Never in Bree’s life had she wanted to hit something more. And she wasn’t talking about a little slap across the face. She wanted to full-on pummel the guy. Her heart raced as she paced from one end of the cell to the other. Rafe had been wrong, though she couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to imagine his oldest friend capable of such a thing.

  But he was. Taveon had ordered his guard to shoot that arrow at Bree. Not to kill her. Just to make her hurt. He’d made a bloody example out of her in front of the entire Court, all for a stupid crown.

  One day, she would get him back for this. How? She didn’t know. She would fight his stupid battle for him, if only because she wouldn’t die for this asshole. His existence wouldn’t be the end of her. She refused to go down that way. No, she would fight and she would try to win.

  But one day she would get him back for this.

  She’d thought she’d hated him before, but that was nothing compared to how she felt about him now.

  Footsteps echoed down the hallway as a door swung open and then closed. Bree gritted her teeth and fisted her hands, pacing back and forth. Had he come back for more? What kind of blow was he going to land on her this time?

  But it wasn’t Taveon who walked down the hallway. And it wasn’t Rafe. It was another fae, one she recognized from the morning walks with the Prince. One who had watched her dance. One who had watched her get shot by an arrow.

  Lord Dagen stepped up to the cell and smiled into the darkness at her. Something about the look in his eye sent a shiver through her gut. Why was he here? Taveon had warned her about him, on numerous occasions. She knew he’d been close to the King.

  But Taveon’s warnings didn’t really mean all that much to her anymore. In her eyes, Taveon was the fae she should be most worried about.

  “Hello, Bree,” Lord Dagen said in a still, quiet voice that sent shivers down her spine.

  “Hi there.” She frowned out at him. “The Prince said he was going to station some guards outside my cell, but I didn’t really expect a Lord would want to take up that kind of boring job.”

  “That is not why I am here,” he said.

  “So, then what’s up?”

  “I need you to become a spy for me,” he said with a strange half-smile. “Despite the fact you are the Prince’s slave, you are in a unique position. He takes you for daily walks. He has
his closest allies train you.”

  Bree blinked out at him. Say what now? She couldn’t be hearing this right. Prince Taveon’s biggest enemy in the Court wanted Bree to become a spy for him? She tried to keep her face neutral, but that was impossible. To say she was intrigued would be putting it mildly.

  “Right,” Bree could merely say.

  “Our realm would be much better ruled by a fae who is not Prince Taveon. He is not suited to be King. I need information that would hurt his chances at success. I need some insight that would ruin his reputation.”

  “I see.” Bree crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Good luck with that.”

  The truth was, Bree had a strange urge to say yes. After everything that Taveon had put her through, she wanted nothing more than a chance to take a few shots back. He said he was nothing like his father, but all Bree had seen was evidence that he was far more like the former King than he wanted to admit. He thought he would be a great ruler, but he’d just be more of the same.

  But she couldn’t. Could she? For one, Lord Dagen was probably no better than Prince Taveon. He didn’t care about her well-being either, just what she could do for him.

  A beat passed. “If you spy for me, I will ensure you are freed.”

  Bree’s heart began to hammer hard. Freedom. It called out to her like a shining beacon in the never-ending night sky. A chance to go home. A chance to be with her friends again. A chance to leave this horrible adventure behind.

  A chance to get the hell away from Prince Taveon.

  But Bree wasn’t quite ready to agree so eagerly. “You do realize that I came here willingly, right? I volunteered to come along, and I’m free to leave anytime I want.”

  Lies, lies, lies.

  Yes, she had come willingly, and she had volunteered. But she’d become a permanent prisoner the moment she’d first tried to escape.