Page 4 of Duskbound

Failure struck me.

When we reached the chamber, he didn't set me down immediately. Instead, his grip tightened, fingers digging into my flesh as he carried me to the window.

"Look," he commanded, his voice deadly quiet. "Look at what you're trying to escape to."

Beyond the glass, the mist had dispersed, and my eyes fell upon a gray landscape that stretched endlessly, broken only by twisted trees and crumbling ruins. The eternal twilight cast everything in shades of ash and shadow.

"This is what your people did," he growled, his breath hot against my ear. "This is what Sídhe stole from us."

He finally set me down, but before I could move, he had mepinned against the wall. His golden eyes burned with an intensity that made my heart race—not with desire, but with fear.

"So tell me, Princess," the title dripped with venom, "did they teach you how to steal essence too? Or just how to control minds?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I spat, but my voice trembled.

His laugh was cruel as he leaned closer, close enough that I could see flecks of amber in his irises. "No? Then why don't you explain how you absorbed our shadows that night? How you wielded them like you were born to it?"

"I didn't?—"

"Don't lie to me." His fingers gripped my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I watched you. I saw what you are."

"And what exactly am I?" The words came out as a whisper.

Something dark flickered across his features. "That's what I intend to find out." He released me, and my back slid against the wall.

"The night we took you, you were dressed in that ridiculous gown." He began circling me. "But you fought like a soldier. So either you're someone of importance, or you're a part of the Guard."

"I was serving drinks," I spat.

His laugh was cold. "In that dress? With that dagger?" He pulled my blade from his belt—the one with golden-dusted emeralds, the colors of Sídhe. "Try again."

When I remained silent, he pressed closer. "Who are you to them?" His eyes narrowed. "Where are you from?"

"You know exactly where I'm from," I hissed, climbing to my feet.

"That's not an answer." His hand shot towards me, fingers curling around my neck. "We were going to do this the nice way, but since you clearly intend on making things more difficult than they need be, we'll do it my way." His face was dangerously close,and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. "How did you get to wind up in Sídhe? Did they take you, or did you enter their realm on your own accord?"

"I'm. From.Sídhe," I said through gritted teeth.

He studied me, narrowed eyes raking over my face as if unable to process my words. "And what is your station?" he asked. "In the Guard?"

"I told you?—"

"The truth," he growled. "Or I'll have to assume you're an immediate threat to this realm. And I deal with threats accordingly."

The menace in his voice sent ice through my veins. But beneath the fear, anger sparked.

"You want the truth?" I snarled. "I don't know why I can wield shadows. I don't know why your darkness called to me that night. But I do know that threatening me won't get you the answers you want."

Something shifted in his expression—surprise, maybe, at my defiance. Or perhaps at the honesty he heard in my voice. His grip on my throat loosened.

"How are they doing it?" His voice was low. "How are they filling the towers?"

"Your questions make no sense to me," I seethed, "I have no answers for you."

He stepped back, something calculating replacing the rage in his expression. His golden eyes studied me with a new kind of coldness—not the burning fury from before, but something more methodical.

"I'll give you one last chance," he said, his voice dropping to a rumble. "Tell me the truth about who you are—how they're draining us, and I'll ensure you're treated with dignity."

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