Page 13 of Hopeless Kingdom
Thank the fucking gods.
My gaze swings over the few people seated, and I make note that Queen Anna is not present. Then my attention falls on the man with the burning interest sparkling in his eyes.
“I just assumed it was a vacation of sorts. You have a very interesting way of making a woman feel welcomed here.” A tight smile is forced to my lips.
“You are very welcomed here. I apologize for the unfortunate first impression I made, but I had to be sure of who you were.” His attention drifts down my body, sending a crawling feeling over my skin. “I have someone I want you to meet.”
“Traveler, please join us,” the king’s mother whispers in a breathy voice. A voice filled with passion that makes her eyes flutter closed. Her thin fingers sweep across a shining pendant that’s hanging from her neck. She worries at the necklace as if she’s putting all her faith into the trinket.
I can’t explain it but the moment she says it, I feel the veil finally slip away. A chill settles into the large dining room. The feeling claws under my flesh and sets my nerves into a frenzy.
Soft steps echo through the silence and my attention searches the dimly lit room. Darrio’s hand lowers with discreet slowness to his hip. His fingers fumble over the empty sheath and his gray eyes narrow on me when he realizes his weapon is missing.
Ryder keeps his head down, but I can physically feel his faded energy. His magic wants to shudder him in and out of this setting. Would he leave us?
Leave me?
“If your pet is smart, he’ll keep his distance,” Ryder says, not looking toward his step brother.
Pet.
The word lingers between us and I stare at him in confusion until I see it.
He isn’t a man. At least, I don’t think he is. He’s fae, though. Magic fumes off of the stranger in a stench of deadly waves. The black robe skims over the dirty floor, picking up the ash and carrying it along with every hobbling step he takes. Ridges and bumps protrude from a smooth scalp. Worn skin sags against the angles of his face. Deeply etched lines cover his features. When he fully meets the dim light of the chandelier above our table, a gasp pulls from my lips.
Mangled and twisted skin is scarred over his eye sockets. Long, gnarled fingers bump unsteadily into the chairs as he feels his way closer to us.
“Traveler, we’ve been eager to introduce you to our new guest,” the woman says, standing quickly from her seat. She rushes to his side, clinging to his frail arm and leading him to my side.
A thrashing feeling shakes through me as my heart pounds recklessly for me to take some form of action. From beneath the table, I slowly pull the knife from my boot. The warm blade skims up my calf and I grip it tightly as I stare up at the fae.
“Zakara, this is the Life Traveler. He is a seer who came to us years ago,” the king says proudly.
A scoff is all that passes for a moment. Ryder’s lips twist into a cruel smile as he stares hard at the glossy shine of the tabletop.
“Had he stayed in the Hopeless realm he would have been executed. Do not pretend he came to you of his own free will,” Ryder says, glaring across the table at Tristan.
Heavy, rasping breaths shake from the Traveler’s dry lips and he raises a single hand. A gray rotting color tones his flesh, and knobs of bone protrude from his arched fingers. My eyes close tightly as his fingertips meet my pale hair. A burning smell wafts through the air as the frayed edges of his heavy robes rub across my cheek. The closer he comes the stronger his magic feels. It strikes right into my body with stinging pain. It’s a sweeping current of power that steals my breath away.
Then he’s gasping with pain. My eyes fling open to find Darrio clasping the Traveler’s thin wrist. Whisking white smoke fumes from Darrio’s hand.
“Do not touch her.” An unspoken threat blazes in his beautiful gaze and my chin rises a little higher as the Traveler lowers his hand. I don’t know if I have an ally in Darrio but it does appear that way. And an appearance is all I have right now.
The metallic hilt of the knife cuts into my palm as I grip it tighter and finally stare up into the Traveler’s face. His shoulders shake slightly and his eerie face tilts toward me. It’s as if he can feel my gaze on his slick and scarred skin.
Who did this to this fae?
And more importantly, why?
The warmth of Darrio’s palm slips over my knuckles as he pulls the knife from my hand.
When the Traveler opens his mouth, my skin crawls, wishing to inch away from this man who isn’t a man at all. He’s more of a shell of a life that’s breathing down on me, drenching me with anxious nerves.
“I feel it in her,” he says in a rattling voice that circles the room like a winter breeze. His head tips back as his body begins to tremble. “Power rages through her. I can see her clearly in my travels.”
A scraping sound startles me from his coarse sounding words.
I glance to the head of the table and Tristan is standing now, staring down on me like I’m a fortune he can’t afford to lose. Then I see it. A metallic glint at his waistband catches my eye and power definitely rages through me now.
