Page 22 of Owned By the Fae
‘Nothing.’ He shakes his head. ‘What about you?’
I hesitate, and he notices.
His eyes narrow, but at least they look like his again. ‘What else aren’t you telling me?’
‘I’ve been offered a place with the elites.’
‘Congratulations,’ he mutters, turning away to stare out the window. ‘I know it’s what you always wanted.’
I open my mouth to speak, but he leaves the room, and I hear the front door bang a moment later. I sink into a chair with a sigh.
‘I did what I had to do,’ I mutter, trying to ignore the guilt I feel when I think of how she looked when she came out of that cave, the fear in her eyes when she saw Varrik that was quickly stifled before it could be noticed.
‘Everything will be fine,’ I say to myself.
She'll get whatever punishment she deserves, and Varrik will forget about the rest. He has plans and goals, and they do not revolve around the Harbinger, at least not the human part. He certainly won't hold a grudge or expend the energy on making a mere girl suffer. He'll draw a line under it once she’s learned her lesson, and before we know it, we’ll likely see her walking around the fold.
I also try to ignore the niggling feeling that things are not exactly as I believe them to be. I'll feel better once Fiana is back. That's all I need, my love in my arms, and everything will have been worth it. The seven years away. The journey with the Harbinger. Our time in Rondorai.
My mind conjures up a picture of the room that we stayed in before I can stop it. I recall the moment when she'd asked me if I wanted topracticeon her, and I'd bent her over that table and spread her legs to look at her well-pleasured cunt.
I'd barely touched her, but I wanted to more than anything, and I'd almost spent myself in my trousers like a youth.
I stand up, angry with my own thoughts, and walk briskly out, intending to go back to the room where I can practice more conjuring. I want to exhaust myself, bide my time until my beloved is with me again.
But I go up to my room instead, deciding to expend a different kind of energy as I take my cock in my hand and feel it hardened to thoughts of my love. I pump myself slowly, thinking of the last time I saw her, her beautiful blonde hair, her lithe figure, her delicate pointed ears with little silver cuffs on the tips, her beautiful, high breasts, and dusky nipples. But as I pump myself harder, that image morphs into a dark-haired human with rounded ears and a firm, round arse, meaty tits that jiggle as she's pounded from behind.
I come harder than I have in a long time with a hoarse cry, and afterward, I wipe the evidence of my seed away in disgust. That awful human female taints everything she touches, even the memories of my exquisite Fiana now carry her.
Hating myself, I leave the house and go back to the practice room as I should have. I close the door, and I stand in the middle of the circle. With a roar, I throw my head back and let out all of the magick I have inside me. The wards hold just barely, and, somehow, the building doesn't explode, though it creaks ominously.
I fall to my knees, finally drained, and yet still my thoughts are not of my beloved, but of the fucking Harbinger.
Chapter Four
Lia
My days pass in darkness, marked only by the guards’ shift changes as I hear them go up and down the stairs and shuffle around in the hallway in boredom. They never talk to me. As predicted, I’m rarely left truly alone and the cell is checked frequently. I find it odd that they fear I’ll escape when I doubt my legs could even bear my own weight at the moment … even if I could stand in my tiny cage.
The Harbinger has appeared to me again several times, but it feels weak, weaker than it's ever been before. I can’t hear it when I’m awake and I find myself dreaming of the Black Lake often. I see it when I close my eyes. The Harbinger barely speaks a word there either, but it’s always with me.
I’m glad, but I don’t have it in me to examine why too closely.
The figure comes almost every day. They stay outside the bars and use their magick to make me wish for death.
The next time I’m actually dragged out of my cell, there are no whips and no hot coals, just the guards’ hard fists. By the time they throw me back in and lock the door, I can no longer move, and coherent thoughts are a hazy memory.
I know I’m asleep,but I’m sitting on the shore of the lake again. It’s familiar here now. Comforting. I pick up a black stone to throw it into the water, and it hisses at me.
‘Do not disturb the surface,’ it warns me. ‘Now that I’m ... out here, it mustn’t be touched.’
‘What will happen?’ I watch it curiously, its face so much like mine and yetother.
It shrugs. ‘No idea.’
It doesn’t speak again for several moments, and when it does, it tells me that it can feel us fading more every day. It sounds concerned, not just for itself but for me as well. We’re by ourselves, but we have each other. We’ll die, but we won’t be alone.
I’m urged to do something I haven’t done before. Sitting by the edge of the Black Lake, I put my arm around the Harbinger’s shoulders. It stiffens at first but then melts into me with a sigh, this thing I used to hate more even than Varrik. We’ve found an odd camaraderie with each other in here.
