Page 19 of Given to the Fae
Bell and Ila are given food, but when I reach for a piece of the bread they’re eating, my hand is slapped away by Locke.
I stare at the floor, my stomach growling, and I wait for the water bucket to fall on his toe, or a horse to side-step onto his foot. But nothing happens.
Bell catches my eye and raises a knowing brow. I scowl at her even as my fear starts to eat at me.
I’ve never tried to escape. Life at The Barrack was survivable as Kismet and I didn’t know anything else, but if I’m no longer protected by fate, that changes everything.
I’ve always felt guilty, cowardly as I watched my human sisters be treated badly. Much of what they endured couldn’t happen to me. My legs go weak and I have to lean against the wall to stay upright.
‘Pull yourself together,’ Bell snarls, looking disgusted. ‘You’re pathetic.’
I almost nod. I am pathetic. I’ve always suspected it and now I know it. Perhaps I deserve to understand what all the other slaves I used to cuddle up with in the dark truly went through every day and night. Perhaps this, too, was fated.
I push myself away from the wall and steel myself to the very real idea that I’ll be whipped later and the fae cunt who does it won’t be thwarted, that I’ll be pulled into a lap afterward and find out what it feels like to take a fae cock. But there are worse things than being beaten and rutted. If I obey, perhaps I won’t experience them.
I frown at my thoughts.
Have I really discounted running away so quickly? Gods, I really am such a fucking coward.
I watch Bell and Ila being herded into one of the other stalls. A pair of leather sandals are dropped at my feet and a gargantuan blond-haired fae with oddly dark eyes for his coloring, who I’ve seen lurking by the fire, kneels in front of me.
Besides his incredible size, I see a handful of scars on the bits of his tanned skin that aren’t covered by his clothes and I feela foolish kinship with him that I know is ridiculous. We aren’t similar.
The bizarre scene of him on his knees before me is muted when he ties the sandals on too tightly and I try not to focus on how the thin twine cuts into the skin of my ankles.
A leather collar is buckled around my neck. It’s locked into place, and I’m pulled along behind Bere’s second, Locke, as well as the huge fae. I’ve only noticed him before because he’s so much taller and broader than any of the others. He’s kept his distance from the slaves. I don’t even think, like Locke and, maybe Jak, that he was in the camp during therevelriesBere instigated.
The two of them walk with me through the streets, and I look around as much as I can with my eyes lowered. I feel glad that I’ve been given shoes when I notice the streets are made of hard stone. The place is massive. There are so many bodies, so many orcs and goblins, trolls, shifters… I feel an odd sense of panic beginning to set in and I try to occupy my mind. I don’t see any other fae at all and I wonder why that is. Though, now that I come to think of it, I only saw fae a few times over the years at The Barrack. The others who came were usually demons, goblins, and pixies.
Someone bumps into me from behind and I’m thrown hard into Locke. He turns with a curse and a snarl, his striking blue eyes taking me in as if concerned, as if he truly sees me for a brief moment. I cower out of habit, but then I’m positioned between them, their muscular bodies warding off the busy throngs. I stick close to them, noticing that, despite how big they are, they seem to weave through the streets with languid ease.
Later, I’ll perhaps wonder why they’ve bothered to stay between me and the masses who live here. But I’m mostly just thankful. At the moment all I can think of is how big everything is here, the streets, the buildings. The city sprawls out in alldirections. How do they even know where they are, or where to go? I do register my own surprise that I feel oddly safe with the two slavers and berate myself for being stupid as well as a coward. I’m notsafewith these fae. Any protection I’m getting from them is only because I’m worth a certain amount of coin and that number goes down if I’m damaged.
We stop in front of a small blue door that’s painted with a pink flower, and Locke knocks.
‘Just a minute,’ a female voice calls from inside and a moment later, I hear the creak of it opening.
‘Yes?’
‘We’ve brought this slave for you to look at. She’s new to us and fainted in the Breach this afternoon. We thought perhaps she was Gate Sick.’
‘How many times and how many Circles has she crossed in the past week?’
‘Two and two.’
The door opens further and I get my first glimpse of the healer. She’s a small pixie dressed in green. Her pointed ears are adorned with gold and her short black curls have tiny plaits here and there with bells tied to the ends. She moves back to let us enter and they jingle.
‘Come in, please. Bring your human.’
I’m led into a small cozy room with bottles and pots all over along with a cauldron that’s bubbling away over a fire.
‘Two Breach trips over two Circles shouldn’t cause Breach Blet. Does she speak?’
The huge one nods and Locke frowns at him, but he just shrugs. ‘I’ve heard her.’
I glance at him. When? Has he been eavesdropping on me and the other humans? I haven’t noticed him lurking, and I think I would considering his size, but I resolve to keep an eye out for him in future just in case.
‘All right.’ The pixie snaps her fingers in my face and, when I startle, she nods and lets out a small hum. ‘How many times did you travel the Breach before you were lately bought?’
