Page 100 of Cursed Evermore
“The Fae age differently to humans and other magical beings.”
“But three hundred.”
The air between us changed.
Three hundred years. Three centuries of life, of memories, of power.
Three hundred years old.
What was I to him but a mayfly, here and gone in the blink of his immortal eye? And yet the way he looked at me... It was with that same captivation that had remained since the night I met him in the tavern.
“We reach our prime at thirty and stay that way for several millennia before we lookoldby human standards.”
“Severalmillennia?” I couldn’t even fathom the word, much less imagine living for so long.
“Indeed.” The muscles along his forearm corded, drawing my attention to the tattoo designs that were similar to Garrick’s. “You met most of my Veythral Circle. We’re roughly the same ages, except Arielle, who is a year older than you. When you reach Galaythia, you’ll be around older Fae. But even then, someone who may not look that much older than me could be well over a thousand years old.”
“I can’t even comprehend living that long. A life throughout the ages.”
“Mages are blessed with long lives, too. Our common Elvin ancestors enhanced their magic because of the links to the Fray.”
I read about that in Grandmother’s books. Mages and the Fae had shared Elvin ancestry from way, way, way back when. That’s where mage magic begun. Whereas the Fae looked likethe Elvin and inherited their immortality, mages were born with the unique ability to connect with the Fray.
The Elvin were said to have ascended into another state of being thousands of years ago, leaving the world as it is now.
I just realized something. We’d just gone from that intense encounter to this, where we were talking like normal people who’d just met.
Sure, I was the one who pried about his age, but he opened the door to this lighthearted conversation by pouring me that drink. There had to be a reason for it.
“Why are we talking like this?” I asked in an almost whisper-soft tone. “You don’t seem like the type to invite me into your study for wine and light chatter.”
“You’re right. I’m not.”
So, these were more mind games, then. “Why are we doing this?”
“Because we’ll be arriving in Galaythia in less than two days and there are certain things we need to discuss. Things youwon’tlike.”
That did not sound good. I didn’t know what thosethingswere but I already didn’t like any of them.
“Am I to be locked away in a dungeon when we get there?” I imagined being chained to a wall in some grimy dungeon at the bottom of his castle. There, he’d probably use me for his spell until he had no more need for me.
Wolfe levelled me an unreadable stare, making me feel small even though he wasn’t still towering over me. “That depends on your level of compliance.”
Compliance. Of course.The wine turned to acid in my gut, and I set the goblet down.“What exactly does my compliance entail?”
He drummed his long fingers over the arm of the chair. “Compliance,” he echoed slowly, “means you listen. You don’t try to run, or outwit me, or fight what’s already been decided.”
My breath lodged somewhere between a gasp and a curse. “So,obedience, then?”
“Willingness,” he corrected with that same infuriating calm. “There’s a difference.”
I shook my head. “I’d beg to differ.”
He smirked. “I’m sure you’ll beg for many things during our time together.”
I begged for nothing, but I had a bad feeling we’d get to that stage whether I wanted it to happen or not. Then I may have to fall to my knees if I had to save a life. Either my own or my father’s.
His expression hardened once more. “The difference between willingness and obedience is the least of your worries.”
