Page 2 of Hell Fae Captive
They told me I could never be too prepared for the fae of the other worlds.
Well, they weren’t wrong.
Mister Slobber grinned, his anticipation thickening the night air and eliciting a sigh from deep within me.
What was it with these guys? They never saw me as a threat, always interpreting my five-foot-four, slender frame as a weakness. Being petite made me fast, not inept. It served as a strength against a being of his size because it allowed me to duck his hands and go for the balls.
Unless he shifted again.
Then I might have to run.
But he predictably lunged for me instead.
I ducked, my body moving on autopilot as I snatched the blade from my boot and plunged it upward into the Hellhound’s groin.
He gaped at me, his shock palpable. These assholes always underestimated me, thought I was an easy target, and like all the rest, he lost before the fight even began.
He collapsed to his knees with an agonized sound that had me shaking my head.
“See? Life is all about choices,” I told him. “And you just made a bad one.” He’d also cost me my last silver blade. I could go digging and try to pull it out of his junk, but then I risked being splattered with his acidic blood, and that shit burned.
My shoulders sagged as I realized a trip home was required, not just to replenish my weapons stash but also to ask if my parents knew anything about these strange visits. Three in a week was a lot.
The Hellhound started to smoke, his teleportation ability kicking into gear.
I jumped back and watched him disappear into a cloud of ash.
That was probably why they always tried to grab me—they wanted to whisk me away in that whirlwind of soot.
“Never gonna happen,” I said, spinning around to resume my path back to the dorm and walking face-first into a hard male wall instead. I frowned, confused. “What—”
“That was a neat trick,” a deep voice informed me, his hands clamping down on my hips to hold me in place. “Of course, Payan is going to be pissed that I set him up just so I could watch you work, but after the last few incidents, I was intrigued. I had no idea silver could do such a thing to a Hell Fae.”
I looked up into a pair of obsidian irises rimmed with deep blue flames, set in a face that caused the air to still in my lungs.
Most fae were alluring.
This one was stunning in a rugged, masculine, take-no-prisoners kind of way. He had a devilish smirk about him as well, one that said he found my antics amusing more than terrifying, and he would absolutely be cocky in a fight.
The problem was, unlike the others, I suspected this wall of muscle might win because he boasted an aura of power around him that defined him as clearlyother.
Not a Hell Fae.
But a Midnight Fae.
Vampiric in nature. Deadly. With an aura of magic around him that flickered and burned and dared me to defy him.
I swallowed, my heart skipping a beat. “What do you want?” Most of them just wanted a bite, to imbibe a little blood and run back to their realm.
However, none of them ever chose to snack on me. I wasn’t fully human. If they bit me, they risked mating me.
And no one wanted that.
“I want a lot of things,” he said softly, his fingers combing through his thick, dark hair as he studied me. “None of which you can give me.” A hint of darkness lurked in those words, his expression hardening with a past defined by pain. I recognized it because my mother frequently wore a similar expression, her history one I wouldn’t wish upon anyone in the world.
An orphan, abused for two decades until my father had saved her from certain death.
I was their mistake—the child they’d never wanted.
