Page 55 of Hell Fae Captive
“Why?” I drawled. “So you could punish me more severely?”
His lips curled. “Exactly.”
I rolled my eyes and returned my focus to the charred ceiling above me. They’d redone the cage to boast fake opulence, but they’d forgotten the burn marks over my head. Perhaps they’d been in a hurry to redecorate. Or maybe that was supposed to serve as a clue that nothing down here was what it seemed.
“You’re not even going to ask how long you’re set to stay down here? Or about the party you’re missing upstairs?”
“I find it best not to waste time on questions I won’t receive informative answers to,” I replied dryly. “Waste of time and breath and all that.”
“A fair assessment,” he agreed, the chair shifting again and drawing my gaze to where he’d propped his feet up on the web of magic functioning as a door. “That doesn’t make it right, though.”
I met his flickering blue irises. “You want to talk about the party?”
“No, I definitely don’t,” he replied. “But I’m going to anyway.”
I studied him. “Why?”
“Because it serves as a punishment,” he drawled.
“Oh?” That stirred my interest. “You’re being punished, too?”
His lips twitched. “Certainly feels like it.”
“Doesn’t it?” I countered sweetly, giving him my best smile.
His gaze slid down to the neckline of my gown, reminding me that I was wearing a rather revealing dress on the floor. But I didn’t bother to shield myself from him. That would display discomfort, which could be translated as a weakness. And I knew better than to appear weak in front of these beings, especially one as powerful as this Midnight Fae.
“Hmm,” he hummed, removing his feet from the web and wiping away the magic with a casual flick of his wrist.
I swallowed as he stepped into my cage, the air between us shifting as I realized the very big advantage he had over me.
This was his prison.
I was his captive.
And he had all the control in this situation.
But he doesn’t have my dignity,I thought, my teeth clenching.
He pulled his wand from his cloak and muttered a spell I didn’t catch, unweaving whatever enchantment he’d cast over the couch, and wandered over to sit down. Then he patted the cushion beside him. “I promise not to bite.”
“Famous last words from a vampire,” I retorted.
Now he truly smiled. “I can’t tell if you have a death wish or if you just don’t comprehend your current situation.”
I sat up at that, crossed my legs beneath my gown, and faced him. “I’m a captive in a dungeon being guarded by a Midnight Fae who apparently works for Lucifer, the Hell Fae King. And I’m here to fight for my life. If I survive, I’ll be rewarded with a Hell Fae mate, or several mates, if I understood the literature correctly, all because my parents—or more accurately, myfather—made a deal with the literal devil.” I arched a brow at him. “Does that answer your inquiry?”
“I didn’t ask a question.”
“No, I suppose you didn’t.”
“But yes, it tells me you’re entirely competent, which means you have a death wish.” His eyes narrowed. “I’d like to know why you court death.”
“Having a backbone doesn’t mean I want to die,” I retorted. “I’m not a simpering idiot who takes my fate lying down.”
He glanced pointedly at the floor and arched a brow. “No?”
“Resting isn’t the same as accepting my fate,” I informed him dryly. “I will find a way out of this.”
