Page 119 of Owned By the Fae
It doesn’t know yet.
I finish the cup, ignoring the searing of my tongue, and sit down, wondering how long it’ll take to notice a difference.
Not long at all, I realize, as I lurch out of my chair and run to the chamber pot. I empty my stomach loudly into it, shuddering as the tea comes back up violently.
I sit on the floor and pant, asking the Harbinger if the babe is all right. It assures me all is well, but I shake my head at the thought of trying that again.
My door opens, and a guard steps into my room. ‘Varrik calls for you,’ he says, barely looking at me except to ensure that I’m following him. My stomach rolls as I stand a little unsteadily. Varrik hasn’t seen me since the day he gave me to Dane and that was days ago. What does he want with me?
I follow the guard through the halls, noting the patrols to distract myself and wondering if we’ll even be able to make it through them to get to the Gate. When the Harbinger is ready, I thought perhaps the main ring would be a better option as it’s not so well guarded, but Grey and Kal were adamant that, after Varrik brought me back, no one’s used it, and even the fold’s supplies come through the smaller one in the keep. They think it’s dead.
Why, after all this time, is the main way in and out of the fold inaccessible? Does it have anything to do with the fact that the far-off hills I stare out at from my barred window seem to be getting more muted and hazy by the day?
My musings are cut short when we reach the main hall, and I’m led inside. Varrik, usually at his desk, is standing in front of his Gate, looking almost pensive. I belatedly see Dane in my periphery, and my steps falter. His expression is stoic and condescending, and when his eyes find mine, they’re devoid of any real emotion.
Varrik’s gaze tracks me slowly across the room and I see it dip to my stomach.
He knows.
I force myself not to look at Dane. I trust him, don’t I?
I thought I did, but here with Varrik, I’m suddenly not so sure. Did Dane tell him? Was this some elaborate game thought up by Fiana to break me properly?
Swallowing hard and trying to maintain my façade of indifference, I come to stand in front of the fae lord. He glances at one of his guards.
‘Where is Skith? I summoned him.’
‘He cannot be found, my lord Varrik.’ He hesitates for a second. ‘I’ve been told that the faeling has also disappeared.’
I don’t look at Dane. Skith is dead, of course. He won’t be coming, and Jak must have done what he promised and hidden Ryon at Dane’s behest. I can trust Dane. I have to.
Varrik looks mildly inconvenienced, giving a slight roll of his eyes. ‘It’s no matter. You’re a shifter, aren’t you, Uthran?’
‘I am, my lord. A large feline.’
‘You’ll do.’ Varrik waves the guard over. ‘Scent her yourself and see if that guard who came to me was right. Tell me if she’s been bred.’
Uthran bows and approaches me cautiously. His nostrils flare once and then again. ‘She is with child. There can be no doubt. The scent is faint, but it is there.’
I see Varrik’s lips turn upwards. He looks pleased, a rare sight that makes me want to shiver because his plans for me have come to fruition.
‘Skith and the faeling must be in the fold somewhere. Find them.’ He waves the guard away and turns to look at Dane. ‘You’ve done well, my boy. If there’s a boon I could grant you, you need only name it.’
Dane bows his head. ‘Thank you, my lord.’
Varrik snorts. ‘I had my reservations when you began asking for her comfort and the other luxuries, but clearly, you knew what would work with her.’ He looks at me. ‘Congratulations, my little human. You’ve narrowly avoided being mounted by every male of high skill in my fold.’
I say nothing.
He looks me over once more. ‘You’ll be kept in your room until you’re ready to birth the babe,’ he announces. ‘A healer who specializes in human births will be sent for, and you will do everything you’re told to ensure my babe is safe.’
His babe.
I try not to grind my teeth nor jerk away as he steps closer and puts a hand over my belly. As he does, his tunic moves, and I see the glint of a thick, golden chain around his neck. My eyes flick to it and then away just as quickly. I’ve never known Varrik to be ostentatious with jewels, so it must be very important, something that he wants to keep close.
He’s wearing our escape plan.
‘No tricks, Thalia,’ he murmurs. ‘If you do anything to lose it, I’ll simply have you bred again. Only, this time, it won’t be Dane, and I’ll ensure the process is as harrowing for you as I can make it.’
