A Cage of Moonlight

by Jenna Wolfhart

  “You expect me to be your champion, but you don’t want to tell me how anything works around here?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed open the door with the hand that didn’t hold tight to her rope. It opened with a creak, revealing a long dark set of stairs that led down into a pitch black nothingness. Bree swallowed hard.

  “You first.” He gestured at the stairs.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  He sneered. “Do not tell me the fierce angry beast is afraid of the dark.”

  “It’s not fear of the dark,” Bree said, grinding her teeth together. “It’s fear of tripping over myself when I can’t see the stair below me and then falling to my death. I realize you don’t care about that since, you know, you’re indestructible and all, but I’m not so lucky.”

  He slammed a hand on the wall and leaned closer, dropping his voice into a low hiss. “Stop. Running. Your Mouth. Keep everything about our journey to yourself, including the fact you tried to kill me. If anyone found out, your life would be forfeit. Do you understand me?”

  Bree blinked, her whole face flushing with an impossible heat. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, half out of fear and half out of the overwhelming power she felt radiating off his skin. He was so close. Way too close.

  “I’m surprised you would care if my life was forfeit,” she whispered back. “You don’t really seem to care much about anything but yourself and that stupid crown.”

  “If you are dead, then you are of no use to me.” He pushed off the wall and grabbed one of the torches from beside the door, lifting an eyebrow. “Better now?”

  Bree nodded, though she still had no desire to go down those stairs. Anything that lurked at the bottom of darkness couldn’t be good. And once the two of them had finally made it down the cold, shadow-filled stairwell, she understood why it was as dreary as it was.

  Prince Taveon had brought her to the dungeons.

  “This is where you shall be staying,” he said as they stood in front of a tiny cell that looked barely large enough to fit a cat, let alone a human being. The Prince’s eyes drifted down the long corridor to the doorway. He didn’t even have the decency to look at her while he locked her up in this hellhole.

  Bree crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No way in hell am I going to stay in a dirty shit-hole like that.”

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “I can assure you that it is perfectly clean. Besides, it is where your dear friend, Princess Norah, stayed when she was here for her visit.”

  “Her visit?” Bree laughed, but it was the kind of laugh only reserved for moments which were truly not amusing at all. “You mean when you kidnapped her and held her against her will?”

  “I do not have time for this, Bree.”

  “Look, I know I have no choice in being here. And I’ll have to do whatever it is you’re going to force me to do. Train, fight, battle. For years. Hell, probably for the rest of my miserable life. But you seriously can’t expect me to live in a cell. I’m not asking for some grand room in your fancy Great Hall or wherever it is that you royalty live—”

  “We live in the Keep.”

  “Right. I’m not asking to live there. Hell, I don’t even want to. Just don’t put me in a cell, Taveon.”

  “It is Prince Taveon,” he said sharply. “ Slaves are forbidden to address any member of the royal family without a title. If someone heard you do so, then you could end up in far worse quarters than these. Not to mention if anyone found out what you tried to do to me.”

  Bree narrowed her eyes. “From where I’m standing, I think I might prefer it if everyone did find out exactly what I did.”

  Except that was a lie. As horrible as all this was, Bree didn’t want to die, and Prince Taveon knew it.

  “This is not up for debate, and I tire of this conversation and your company.” He grabbed the rope and yanked Bree into the cell. She stumbled inside, wincing at the pain that lanced through her wrists. A knife suddenly appeared in the Prince’s hands. Bree tensed. What was he doing now? He’d just said how much he wanted her alive. Surely he wouldn’t kill her after all this.

  Instead, he brought the blade to the edge of the rope and began to saw through it. The frayed edges fell to the floor around her, releasing her raw wrists from its grasp. She let out a sigh of relief, despite herself. The Prince tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. For a moment, something strange passed between them. But then she pulled back her hand and slapped his face with all the strength she had.

  It was stupid to lash out at him again, but she couldn’t help herself. He’d completely ruined her life, and she hated to imagine what the rest of her days would bring. He would make her do things she never wanted to do, and she would hate herself for it.

  She hated him for it.

  A small bud of satisfaction bloomed in her gut at the surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that from her. Already, he thought he’d broken her. But it would take a hell of a lot more than some rope and a dungeon cell to break Bree Paine.

  “Do that again,” he said, pointing a finger into her face, “and you will regret the day you laid eyes on me.”

  “Too late. I already do.”

  Chapter 3

  Taveon

  Bree could think whatever she wanted to about Taveon, but his first priority was to keep his own realm safe, even if that meant making her life miserable at times. He could tell that she hated him. And, if he were being honest, he wasn’t particularly fond of her right now either. She had tried to kill him, and then she had left him for dead. Not even that strange magical pull he felt toward her could erase that.

  Showing her kindness after her actions was not an option. He had to keep up certain appearances or else the Court would question his position as the future King of Underworld. He could not show her too much mercy. The Dark Fae would expect him to be harsh to Bree. If he wasn’t, there was no telling how they might respond to her presence in the Court.

  Of course, he would rather not have her look at him as if he were the most vile creature she’d ever laid eyes on, but that wasn’t because he particularly cared about her opinion of him. He just liked to think of himself as a better male than his father had ever been, and he would be a much better ruler. No more terror and fear.

  King Midas had ruled Underworld with an iron fist. If anyone got in his way, he smashed them aside. If anyone disobeyed him, he put their head on a stake for all the realm to see. He’d been a terrifying ruler, which meant that no fae alive dared betray him. But that kind of fear did not inspire true loyalty, which was why Taveon himself faced an impossible task.

  He needed to seize the crown for himself, but it wouldn’t be quite so simple. King Midas’s many enemies would now stand in Taveon’s way, some of which were on the very council he was on his way to meet. He had to convince them that he was worthy and hope they chose not to step forward with their own champions at the Battle for the Crown.

  He needed as few fae in his way as possible.

  Otherwise, he would lose his chance at power, and the Dark Fae could end up ruled by an even worse monarch than his father had been.

  Seath, for example. Prince Taveon shuddered at the thought.

  Prince Taveon strode into father’s meeting hall, an expansive room set inside the Shard Keep. As King Midas’s only heir, Taveon had been invited to join the council the day he’d come of age, and he’d sat on every council meeting since, along with Seath, Dagen, Conlan, Branok, and Ethne.

  They were all waiting for him now, all sitting in their high-backed chairs and staring up at him with curiosity and concern etched onto their faces.

  “I know you are all wondering why I called this meeting. King Midas is dead.” Prince Taveon let the words sink in before he braced his hands on the thick wooden table before him.

  He had thought long and hard about how to explain this to the council. In truth, he had lied to Princess Norah. If the Lords and Lady discovered what had t
ruly transpired in the realm of the Light Fae, they would do whatever they could to destroy Otherworld. Regardless of what Taveon said. Regardless of the supposed “sacrifice” Norah had made by sending Bree here.

  The only way to keep the Dark Fae from invading Otherworld was for Prince Taveon to keep the truth to himself. And, despite what he’d told Bree, he never planned to tell a single member of the Court the truth. She could try to kill him all she wanted, and he wouldn’t do a damn thing. But she didn’t need to know that.

  Her fear would keep her from telling a single soul what had happened between them. Because there was truth in one thing he’d said. If the Court discovered that she’d tried to kill the Prince, they would put her head on a stake.

  Seath slammed his fist against the table, and the entire thing shook from the force of his blow. “I knew it. I knew something was wrong when he didn’t return from chasing down that damn changeling.”

  “Princess Norah. Queen Marin’s only surviving daughter,” Prince Taveon said, correcting him. “She will become the Queen of Otherworld now.”

  Lord Dagen was staring at Taveon with those intelligent black eyes of his. Those eyes that always unnerved him. “How did he die, my Prince?”

  Taveon knew those words were a dig, even if no one else could truly see it. Taveon had never been Dagen’s Prince, at least not in the golden-haired fae’s eyes. Dagen had been one of his father’s closest allies, and Taveon had overheard him say that his father would be better off choosing a different official heir—one of his bastards, perhaps.

  “A Breking monster,” Prince Taveon said as matter-of-factly as he could as he referenced the dangerous creature that roamed Otherworld’s wintry mountains. “I saw it happen with my own eyes, but I was not fast enough to stop it.”

  It was the truth in a twisted sort of way. A Breking had killed his father, but it had done so because Princess Norah had the power to control every animal of her realm. She had turned the beast’s hunger toward the King. And he’d died within seconds.

  “A Breking?” Seath frowned. “Are you certain that Norah girl was not involved?”

  “As much as I would like to blame it on her, I cannot.”

  Taveon swore that Dagen hadn’t blinked his eyes once since hearing the news. “How did she escape anyway? I was under the impression that her powers did not work here, so it seems impossible that she managed to get out of that cell where she was being kept.”

  Prince Taveon merely lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I cannot say.”

  “It is a very strange fate for our dear King,” Dagen said, pursing his lips. “Someone will need to claim the crown now, you see, though it should be the male who truly understands what it is to reign.”

  “I am his heir,” Taveon said, his grip on the table tightening.

  “He had many bastards,” Dagen said dismissively. “Some older than you.”

  “A bastard is not an heir.”

  “Indeed,” Dagen said.

  “I will announce the King’s passing at the Silver Moon ball. In the meantime, Bree Paine, the Redcap girl I brought back with me, will be training to become my champion for the Battle for the Crown. But we will keep her identity secret for now. I do not want the Court to know a Light Fae lives in their midst.”

  No one argued, though Taveon could already see the webs spinning in Lord Dagen’s devious head.

  “It is time we get started.” Taveon stood just outside of Bree’s cell. He frowned as he watched her roll over on the cot, the metal springs squealing with her every movement. She certainly wouldn’t be in full fighting form if she kept sleeping on such a terrible mattress, but he wouldn’t move her out of this cell. Not when she’d tried to kill him.

  Plus, she was far too unpredictable. There was no telling what she would do if she had more freedom than this.

  Bree blinked as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and peered out at him. “Right now? It’s the middle of the damn night.”

  Indeed, to Bree it would seem that way. The moon was breaking through the sky, lighting it up with its silvery blue sheen. But Underworld was not like the other realms. Taveon couldn’t imagine living somewhere with such blinding light as the sun, but he knew the Light Fae and the humans felt the same about the moon.

  “It is dawn,” he simply said. “Our worlds are different. Here, we only have moonlight.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Only moonlight? So, it’s dark all the time? Doesn’t that get old?”

  “It is not dark all the time.” He strode closer to the bars and caught her gaze. She really did have the most brilliant blue of eyes. It was a color he’d never seen before, and it was one he imagined he would never forget. He swallowed hard and stepped back. He could not forget what she had done. Those eyes held far more than they seemed. He’d seen the glint of hate in them as she’d stood over him, ready to end his life. “It is only ever fully dark at midnight after the moon has set. At dawn, the moon rises, bringing with it the light.”

  “That’s weird.”

  He pursed his lips. “And we find sunlight weird.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “Here.” He unlocked the door and passed some clothes to Bree, carefully watching her for any sign of what she was thinking. One thing he was coming to appreciate about this girl was her absolute frankness. If she thought something, she did little to keep it locked up inside of her. She was more than happy to share, almost as if she had no filter between her mind and her mouth.

  That said, he would need to watch her carefully. If she went off in front of the wrong fae, it could lead to disastrous consequences.

  Bree took the clothes and frowned down at them. “You want me to wear a dress?”

  “You will not be doing any fighting just yet. I would like to take you for a walk through the halls first, as a way to stretch your legs. Exercise is important. A dress allows you to blend in with the Court. Some will still spot you as an outsider, but not all.”

  “Well, okay,” Bree said, but Taveon could tell she wasn’t convinced. “You’re going to have to turn around though. I’m not getting changed in front of you.”

  Heat filled Taveon’s cheeks, and he suddenly felt as though he should be anywhere other than standing outside of Bree’s cell. He abruptly spun on his feet, and then ran a hand through his hair. Bree didn’t say a word as she undressed, though he could hear the rustle of the material. Clothing fell softly onto the stone floor, and he swallowed hard. Why was he reacting in such a ridiculous manner? It wasn’t as though he’d never been around a female undressing before.

  But this felt dangerous. It felt wrong. Deliciously wrong.

  It took all his self-control not to turn around.

  “Done now,” Bree said, her voice hinting at none of the strange feelings churning through Taveon’s mind and body.

  But of course it wouldn’t. Bree hated him. With every fiber of her being. She hated him so much that she had shoved a dagger into his heart and then left him for dead. If he were any other fae, he would be lucky to be alive. And he had a feeling that if he spied on her while she was undressing, she would probably try to kill him again even knowing that he would never die.

  In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that there would be a next time. Bree would try to escape him again. He could read it in every move she made.

  He twisted to face her. She looked different out of her fighting leathers that she’d worn for the trip from the realm of the Light Fae to Underworld. The dirt still caked her cheeks, and her hair was wild around her shoulders, but there was something almost staggering in her beauty. The deep violet dress hugged her curves, highlighting her round hips. The sleeveless top of the dress cut straight across her chest with a beautiful lace edge. His gaze caught on her long, slender neck.

  “I feel like I look ridiculous,” she said. “Are you sure this is okay?”

  “It will do,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Her face flickered with irritation. “Gee, thank
s.”

  “You still have dirt on your face.” He passed her a small cloth from his pocket, the only item his father had ever outright given to him. It had been a gift when he’d come of age, officially old enough to sit on the throne if the need ever came. It was a cheap old thing that had frayed within months, and Taveon found it fitting that it was now being covered in dirt.

  Bree glared at him, but she took the cloth and rubbed it across her cheeks. There was still a hint of dirt just below her lip, but he didn’t dare reach forward and brush it aside. The idea of touching her made his head spin. This was the girl who had tried to kill him. He couldn’t very well caress her skin.

  After she’d cleaned her face, she stepped out of the cell, but Taveon held up a hand. One that held a pair of wrist braces attached to a chain. Bree’s entire face transformed from mild displeasure to something much darker and dangerous. She looked livid. Her eyes danced with fire, and her whole body trembled.

  She was a fiery little thing, and she certainly didn’t take anything sitting down.

  In any other circumstance, Taveon might appreciate her spirit.

  “What the hell is that?” She pointed an accusing finger at the wrist braces.

  “You will be wearing these for the duration of our walk. The sleeves of your dress are long enough to hide them from view.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Heat filled her cheeks, turning her skin a bright pink. “You’re seriously going to keep me chained up?”

  “You tried to kill me, Bree. I will keep you chained up until you prove that I can trust that you will not attempt some other wild plot against the crown.”

  “It wasn’t a plot against the crown,” she said through gritted teeth. “It was a plot against you, the fae who lied to me. The fae who wants me to sentence innocent humans to a life of beastly torment.”

  “Unfortunately for you, a plot against me is a plot against the crown.” He held up the chains and jingled them. “Now, you can either stay in this cell or you can wear these and come with me.”