Page 113 of Hell Fae Captive
I frowned. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he repeated.
I squinted at him, another potential ploy coming to mind. “Is the tray bespelled to keep producing food and water?” Because I wouldn’t put it past him to play an evil trick like that on me—forcing me to eat until I was sick, just to say I’d failed and he wouldn’t be changing my accommodations.
“I’m not sure if I’m thrilled by your expert questioning or insulted by your lack of faith,” he mused, his irises glimmering with approval rather than annoyance. “Eat all the food presently on the plate—that you can see right this second. Drink all the water presently in the jug—that you can also see right this second. And I will find you a comfortable bed to sleep in, and proper air to breathe, for at least the next three nights.”
“Why three nights?”
“Because your next trial will begin on the fourth day, and I can’t guarantee what will happen then.” A hint of wariness overtook his features. “It’s also a trial where my version of spells won’t help you.” A fork appeared in his hand, and he held it out for me. “Please accept my bargain and eat, Cami.”
I sighed. “There’s really not a choice.”
“On the contrary, this entire game centers around choice and understanding.” Melek snapped his fingers, calling the book to his lap. “Being able to see others as their true selves andchoosingto accept them is the heart of Hell Fae kind.”
I pondered over that statement as I grabbed the water, taking several gulps and groaning at the cool impact against my throat.
“I can refill that for you, but only if you want me to,” Melek said when I finally finished drinking. Over half the contents were already gone, and I hadn’t even touched my food.
“Yes, please,” I whispered, aware that this might be a break in our deal, or potentially force me to drink more, but I doubted I would have trouble finishing another full jug.
He whispered some words, loud enough for me to memorize them, and the container hummed with magic. I took another sip from the now-full bottle, then set it down to start on my steak.
Melek read quietly beside me while I ate, the pages of the book depicting the various Nightmare Fae and their mating rituals.
I followed along, my eyes automatically translating the words on the page while my mouth salivated over the delicious meal.
Minotaurs court their mates through feasts, I read, my eyebrows coming down.They lure their intendeds into mazes, tempting them with fresh meats and savory cheeses, then gift them the foods at the end. But only if the mate tastes right.
My eyebrows rose as I forced myself to swallow my mashed potatoes. “Is that why that guy licked my hand? To see if I was his mate?”
“Not his mate, necessarily. But compatible for Minotaurs, yes.” He flipped the page again, this time revealing the mating rituals for Centaurs.
Compatible mates can see through the smoky exterior, to the handsome features beneath. When that happens, the males duel, the winner earning the right to lick his chosen candidate.
“That’s why there were two of them,” I whispered, thinking of the giggling girl in the field. “She was being ripped apart, but not.”
“A mirage.” Melek glanced at me. “You can see through them.”
“Not all the time.”
“But sometimes,” he clarified. “That’s a very rare trait, Cami. One that will serve you well in these trials.”
I snorted. “These death trials, you mean.”Except…As I glanced down at the book to read more about the Centaurs, I realized that wasn’t entirely true. “Matetrials.”
“Indeed they are.” His focus returned to the book. “But some do die, unfortunately. The unworthy ones, anyway.”
“Yet candidates like Beatrix and Queen Bitch survive,” I muttered.
“Who?” he asked, those pretty eyes glinting up at me.
I shook my head. “Just somefriendsI made in the trials.”
He appeared interested for a beat, then went back to the book to reveal the next page about Nagas and their chosen mates. “It seems the book just wants to talk about Nightmare Fae tonight. Perhaps it’s a sign that you should study them, to better understand the heart of Hell Fae kind, hmm?”
He closed the cover and set it aside, then rotated toward me on the couch to watch as I finished eating. He seemed rather fascinated by the display, making me wonder if he had some sort of food fetish.
The tray disappeared with my final bite, leaving me with just the water jug. “It’ll keep refilling automatically for you now,” he explained softly. “That should keep you hydrated while I work on your upgraded accommodations.”
