Chapter 12

He stood motionless, partially grasped by the shadows. His hair was wet, curling around his finely pointed ears. A spark ran through me, trails of flames running through my veins and urging my limbs to move.

But I had nowhere to run.

"I have already claimed this one, Fire Bastard. Leave, get another. I'm sure there's still plenty for you to pick from that will suit... whatever needs it is you have."

Eirian's expression sharpened, watching as Ronan started to prowl towards him. The Night Fae's blood-lusting eyes fixed on his newest opponent. I might have mistaken it, but I saw something that resembled fear flit across Eirian's face.

I turned my gaze back to the Ronan. He rose his sword to point it at Eirian. Ronan did not speak, and I wondered vaguely if he was even capable of it. A slow, blood-curdling grin lifted his lips, revealing small, pointed incisors. My eyes widened in alarm.

Fangs.

He was a monster. A real-life monster. There was no escaping this. He was right there only a few paces from me, and he could kill me. He would kill me.

Around me, the trees walled us in. I needed to keep Eirian as a barrier between Ronan and me. If Ronan got through him, I was on my own.

The prince in question turned to look at me, his face turning stony and unreadable. He held his two weapons at his sides.

'Come on, fight!' I screamed in my head.

Ronan watched him, a hungry glint in his eyes. He knew that Eirian was hesitating, and I felt my few threads of hope slipping from my fingers.

No, no, no, no!

Ronan stood motionless under the violet-toned moonlight, the darkness cutting across his chiseled, angular features, painting him a brutal image. He was waiting with a lazy kind of patience. Like he was drawing out the moment, letting it sink in. It reminded me of the way someone soaked in rays of warm sunshine after a long winter, only much more sadistic. He found pleasure in the other faerie's fear.

He started a slow pace back and forth along some imaginary line between him and Eirian, prowling like a cat about to pounce.

Like he could eat him alive.

I saw Eirian's jaw tense as he shot me another look over his shoulder. He frowned, the desire in his gaze long gone.

"If you are just after a pretty face, there's plenty others. Sure, hers is particularly striking, but most of the prizes were. You would not know what to do with such a gift, Fae. Stand down. This is not a fight you want to have."

Ronan remained silent, his expression unwavering.

There was something more nefarious at play. Maybe Ronan was there to steal me from Eirian, or maybe there was something else going on that I wasn't able to understand. Either way, killing Eirian, who was a Prince of Faerie, had to have consequences.

Ronan was eerily silent for a long moment. Then he raised his sword, a silent threat. Eirian swore.

Ronan was going to strike at any moment.

Eirian lowered his weapons, throwing one last furtive glance my way.

"It seems I have no choice. Your time in Faerie will not be the one I had promised. I cannot be blamed, love. I had no idea things would turn out this way," Eirian said, this time addressing me.

He slipped a glance to Ronan, his golden eyes narrowed in consideration. "You aren't as much of a fool as you lead people to believe."

Everything went still. My heart stopped beating for one second, two. I felt like I was suspended in time, my blood halting inside my veins.

Before I could utter a protest—to raise my voice to urge Eirian to take me back. To attest some unknown quality that surely he was overlooking—even though I knew I had none. Ronan moved.

In a strike that was so fast, I didn't even see him move across the clearing; his long glowing sword pierced right through Eirian's middle. Ronan's teeth were bare, a low snarl in his throat as he looked Eirian right in the eyes. He uttered words in a language I did not understand, which made Eirian's golden eyes widen.

Ronan said something else, then sneered, pulling the sword out of the prince with a violent gush. Eirian fell to the ground, his hands over his stomach. Blood spilled to the forest floor, the color a sinister blue tone under the moon's unnatural light. The water that had been gathering in the air fell with a splash, splattering against me.

Without paying his opponent another glance, Ronan turned to me. He wiped his sword off on Eirian clothes then sheathed it on his back.

A fire burned under my feet to run, but I couldn't move. I couldn't feel anything. I should have turned around to flee. I should have torn up the remains of my feet and dress pushing through the thick trees of the forest that didn't want to let me out.

Instead I stood still, watching him. Waiting.

Ronan walked up to me, his red eyes swirling with intensity. This near to me, I could feel an abnormal wave of heat radiate from his body. His nostrils flared, and slowly, he took in my expressionless face then lowered his gaze down my body, ending at my muddy feet. Even the trees felt like they were holding their breath.

A cry echoed through the night, coming from somewhere beyond the trees. It was then that I was more aware of the sounds around us. The whispers of the trees flowed to me on the wind, a masculine grunt from somewhere behind me.

What exactly did the fae do when they 'claimed' their brides?

My mind spun through a vast array of possibilities. Perhaps they killed us tonight, perhaps they took us back to their home to warm their beds and bear them children—or so I had been told. The sounds grew louder and louder in the trees. I wanted to step back, but I had nowhere to go.

I couldn't bear it. I didn't want this to be the way my life ended. My nails bit into the raw flesh of my palms. I met his eyes. I refused to look away.

That's not how I was going to let all this end.

I looked up at Ronan, who gazed at me, very much alive and unchallenged.

"Get it over with."

Ronan stilled, looking at me with his heated crimson eyes. He lifted a hand, raising it to my head. He was too close now. Another warm breeze blew, unnaturally warm, and I waited in anticipation for him to make a move. To either bash in my head or do something worse than death. I glared at him even as my eyes filled with tears.

I didn't want to die.

Instead, he pulled a twig that had been tangled in my dark waves, his lips turning down into a frown. He moved, but not to grab me. Instead, he walked passed me into the trees, pushing through the dense foliage. His arm brushed mine and heat sizzled through me at his touch.

I stared after him in confusion. It almost appeared like he was going to... leave me there.

Hope slowly started to fill me. If he didn't want me, and the other males were mostly busy with the others, maybe I could...

Ronan stopped, turning and fixing an expectant red-eyed glare on me. The screams created an ominous symphony around us. I flinched as one rung out from the trees nearby.

I stood mutely. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to follow him.

Slowly one of his dark brows arched and his lips flattened.

"Come," he said, his voice gruff and low. The one word was heavy on his tongue. It weighed down on me like an oppressing force.

No.

All the hope from a moment before fell away. My heart sank.

No, Ronan was not going to leave me behind. He wanted me to follow him instead.

To follow him. Willingly.

I glared into his eyes, daring him to make me. But he didn't.

After some time spent engaging in our silent standoff, I reluctantly moved forward. My mind was reeling with how on Earth I was going to get out of this. How was I going to ever get free of him?

I had no choice. It had been stolen from me by the fae when they had brought me here. I wasn't on Earth anymore. I was far from it, the truth of it reflected in the peculiar moonlight.

I was in Faerie now. And the faster I came to accept that, the better my chances were to survive.