Page 10 of Bound in Violet Ink
Also, I am not sure why you write me. I am not sure why I write you. Perhaps you have a guess, instead?
If I were to proffer up one… I’d say it has something to do with wanting to strike at a weakness of my father’s. Lull me into false security. Get me to reveal things I shouldn’t. Otherwise, I can’t imagine why out of all the people that want your attention, you’d give it to me.
Am I wrong?
Victoria
i.e., the little flower who is more astute than most give credence
I smile. I rather enjoy how pointless this dialogue is, in the grand scheme of things. She’s completely wrong, as she has nothing to do with any of my political strategies.
This is entirely personal.
But she clearly doesn’t understand the depth of what that means, so her assumptions are completely in line with logic. She’s making the best observation that she can. Which is a reminder of how very little of the world she knows, and that patience will be needed as that glass cage is shattered?—
I catch her scent, breathing it in like a starving creature who’s finally aware of their stomach growling with avarice, the deep pangs of hunger from an unmated bond fully felt for the first time.
There’s some kind of floral musk, something I have yet to smell in others. It’s not flowery like roses, but its scent of nectar is one of the most pleasant things I have ever encountered. Those instincts scratch at me again, telling me she utterly belongs to me, and I to her. That I can, and should, have her body in every way she needs. Every wayIneed.
I glance down at the paper as I pull it from my face.
It’s not too late.
I can burn this and never reply.
I should.
But she is alone in that castle, surrounded by strangers. By those she thinks she knows, including herself.
Rescuing her means I willnotback away. If the scent of her letter drives me this mad, what would her actual presence do? I’d bite her pretty neck to leave my mark as soon as I could. Fuck her until I’m drained, then pet her hair as I breathe her in. Let no other male touch her until our bond is solidified. And then fill her again until she’s leaking down her leg?—
Fuck.
I canfeelwhat even theideaof her does to me, my cock hardening like it’s begging to be scented by its mate. She has no idea, I imagine, that there exists something between us. Something above and beyond the two of us. Something that grows more rare by the year, with wars eradicating mates before they ever meet.
Would I be too much for this false Seelie princess? Would she ever accept me for who I am? It’s the only thought that makes me reconsider… but she knows of me and sent a letter. Even scenting it. She pines for me, whether she knows it or not.
No, I won’t turn away. I will soothe that ache for her.
Steppingout into the bitter morning air of the courtyard, the worn metal door slams shut behind me. The yard is bleak—no grass, rusting equipment, and shadows that stretch far too long for this time of day. The terrain providesjustenough to train those who are eager.
Moving with deliberate steps as my boots crunch the hard-packed dirt beneath my feet, I always ensure those here knowthisspace belongs to me when I occupy it. Thechangethat’s coming will not be weathered by grace or kind hearts; if I am to lead, I must wear a mask at all times. Those underneath me have all chosen a ruthless leader to follow, one who takes care of his own but doesn’t hesitate to kill others. Even whole flocks of them at once.
I’ll cull the weeds to protect the garden.
Eyes shift to stare once I’m through the threshold. Some are wary, while others feel the need to openly challenge, even if they won’t get close, and others pretend not to notice me at all. The remaining half are devout followers who lower their heads in my direction. I don’t acknowledge them, but I’m aware of who they are, and they know that.
Human men sit low on the crumbling steps, a few lifting weights, others murmuring amongst themselves. And then there arethem—the Seelie males. Cleaner, sharper, with the cold arrogance of fae who believe their blood makes them untouchable, even in here.
They’re clustered together near the pull-up bars, laughing too loudly, too performatively, when their attention turns to me. The air thickens with the musty scent of dominance and tension.Theyare the only ones I turn to face. There’s no retreat within these walls, no one to hide behind other than themselves.
“Strange,” one of the new Seelie shouts, voice smooth like glass. “I thought the High Lord’s pet was supposed to be hiding in the shadows. Not strutting around like a wild dog.”
Oh, his loyalty is placed within the wrong male. One of my greatest pleasures is watching all of the Seelie realize how much they’ve utterly failed.Thisis also the reason I operate the way I do—everyone always wants to fucking challenge who is in charge. I need to assert who I am among these people, and that being approached by me is something they should allfear,not desire. “We have a peacock living among us now, I see,” I loudly say, sitting down on one of the worn benches with heavy weights next to it, before lifting my gaze to look at him.
He squares up, chest puffed and mouth cocked into a smirk. “You have a false sense of bravado in here, Kane.” He gestures around. “You’renevergoing to leave here. Can’t exactly rule from these walls, can you? I heard you run this place as if you stillmatter.”
The motion to the yard stills, every man slowing in his rep to pause and watch what happens next. I could ignore this cunt. The time to leave is nearly imminent, and I’m not worried about the dichotomy shift here. But the sharp features of his cheeks are like a mockery of everything my people have suffered. It’s this very arrogance from all the Seelies that makes them believe they’resuperior.
