A Cage of Moonlight

by Jenna Wolfhart

  So, she spun through the room. Conversations drifted to her from here and there, filling up her head with voices and words that all began to blend together. Drink after drink was placed in her hands, and she drank the sweet liquid eagerly. After a time, she realized that hours had passed by, and she hadn’t seen Lord Dagen since she’d arrived.

  Where had her companion gone?

  Oh, Bree. What a silly thought. Lord Dagen isn’t your companion. He brought you here to spy for him, not to hang on his arm and dance.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several members of the Court whisper away behind the curtain. Bree’s curiosity was immediately piqued. Where were they going? She followed after them and ducked behind the curtain, finding a long dark corridor stretching out before her. The laughing fae vanished into the nearest door, but that wasn’t the thing that caught Bree’s attention. Instead, her gaze was focused on what lay beyond. The door at the very end of the hallway.

  Just above the door hung a tapestry etched with a pair of bright red wings, the symbol of Prince Taveon.

  Were those his quarters? Was that where he lived and slept and spent his days scowling?

  She had to find out. Maybe there would be something in there that would help Lord Dagen. Maybe his secrets lay hidden inside.

  Of course the door was locked when she reached it, but she knew a thing or two about picking locks from her time spent in New York. She grabbed a couple of pins from her hair, jammed them in the lock, and smiled when a resounding click met her ears.

  And then she was inside.

  She slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her, her heartbeat hammering in her chest. A fire flickered in the nearest corner, illuminating the room that spread out wide on either side. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched across the entire length of the furthest wall, facing the bulbous moon that glowed so brightly it took Bree’s breath away.

  Deep red carpets stretched out across the stone floors, softening the harsh features of the castle. There was a desk, covered in parchment, as well as a globe that looked suspiciously like the one for the human realm. Just beyond the desk, there was a cluster of sofas and armchairs, hunkered around the fire. Hundreds of books lined the walls. It was a beautiful room. So beautiful that it did not look like it should belong in this cold, hard place.

  “You shouldn’t be in here,” a voice slithered into Bree’s ear from behind her. She froze, breath held tight in her throat, heart thundering so loud that it drowned out the merriment of the ball.

  Slowly, Bree swivelled to face one of those horned fae, his face covered by a mask painted in deep crimson whorls. She swallowed hard as her gaze flicked across him. His jacket matched his mask, and a dangerously sharp sword hung from his waist, the hilt carved into a lion’s gaping jaw. The sharp teeth glittered underneath the dancing firelight.

  “Oh.” She gave him a timid smile. “I guess I got lost. I was looking for the...” What did they call it here? A restroom? Bree had a sneaking suspicion that they called it anything but that. She cleared her throat. “Bathing chambers?”

  He let out a low chuckle, leaning forward to prop one hand on the wall behind her, and he leaned in close. “For a spy, you are awfully terrible at lying. And you seem to have a strange vocabulary.”

  Her eyes widened just a fraction. “What are you talking about? I am Lord Dagen’s aide. I am assisting him in—”

  “Spare me the half-cocked story.” His glittering smile widened. “I know Dagen well. He does not care about humans. What he cares about is that crown. And you, his supposed aide, has now been caught poking around where she shouldn’t be.”

  “Honestly, you are mistaken.” Her voice slightly trembled, something Bree desperately hoped this strange fae wouldn’t notice.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I wonder what Prince Taveon would think, if he knew that you were in here. Do not think your little scene together escaped everyone’s notice. He is not even happy his little slave is at the ball.”

  Bree bristled. She hated being called a slave, even if that was what she was. She opened her mouth to bark out a retort, but voices drifted toward them. Bree recognized them immediately because she’d heard them once before. Two of Prince Taveon’s council members, though not Lord Dagen or Seath. These two were the ones who were loyal to the Prince, and they knew exactly who she was.

  And they were about to discover her snooping around in the Prince’s chambers.

  A strange smile flickered across the fae’s lips. “Looks like Conlan and Branok are in for a show.”

  “Please don’t,” she whispered as their footsteps grew ever closer.

  But Bree didn’t have a chance to beg and plead. Instead, the strange fae male wrapped his arms around her back, pulled her close, and planted a hungry kiss on her lips. Her eyes widened in shock, her entire body trembling.

  What the hell was he doing?!

  The strength of him held her close, though she didn’t try to push him away. She stood frozen to the spot, a million different emotions pouring through her at once.

  “Close your eyes,” he murmured against her lips. “Relax. Make it real.”

  Oh. Realization dawned in her mind, and she understood immediately. So, she followed his orders and closed her eyes. Still, it was impossible to relax, not when his corded body pressed so tightly against hers. The scent of him filled her head: a heady mixture of smoke and fire and musk. Everything about him screamed danger. Danger and delicious power. And strength.

  His lips were softer than she would have guessed and gentle in the way they pressed against hers. They began to move against her mouth, and his tongue darted in through her parted lips. A gasp escaped her throat, and a thrill went down her spine. Nope, there was definitely no relaxing in this situation. She had a strange, terrifying fae’s kiss on her lips, and even crazier was that she actually liked it.

  His hand found her cheek, and he caressed her chin with his thumb.

  Her entire body melted from just that one touch. Bree had never been kissed like this before, even if it was all some sort of show. Even if it wasn’t real.

  A throat cleared as the footsteps stopped only inches from where the two of them stood curled up in each other’s embrace. Bree pulled back, her face flushed and her breath ragged. She couldn’t bear to look at Conlan or Branok. Hell, she couldn’t bear to look at anyone.

  “Fillan,” Branok’s voice was sharp, disapproving. “What are you doing in the Prince’s chambers? And with her?”

  Bree glanced up in just enough time to catch the smug grin on Fillan’s face. “I believe you just witnessed what I was doing in here with her.”

  “This is highly inappropriate.” Conlan frowned. “She is Prince Taveon’s—”

  Conlan cut himself off, as if realizing what he was about to say and to whom. That was interesting. So, Fillan hadn’t been let in on the little secret. To him, she should be no one more than Dagen’s aide. But he’d found her out. How? And who was he to Prince Taveon? Why had he wanted to save her from getting caught?

  “Is Prince Taveon courting her?” Fillan furrowed his brows in mock confusion. “My apologies. I was not made aware of that. She seemed to be attached to Dagen’s arm when she arrived, not the Prince’s.”

  Conlan and Branok exchanged a glance, but they said nothing to correct Fillan’s assumption. Not that he believed in his assumption any more than anyone else did. But they didn’t know that. And they obviously didn’t want this fae to know the truth.

  “You should both return to the Great Hall,” Branok finally said, casting a sharp glance at Bree. A warning. “Do not let us catch you in the Prince’s private chambers again. And Fillan? It would be wise for you to choose another fae to be your paramour.”

  Bree’s cheeks were still a terrible shade of red when she strode back into the Great Hall. Fillan had said a hasty goodbye and had disappeared down the opposite end of the corridor faster than she’d been able to blink. She didn’t know why she’d expe
cted anything else. Their kiss—while exhilarating—had only been meant as a cover for the truth.

  But she had questions. So many questions. Who was he? Why had he helped her? And why had he been poking around in the Prince’s quarters himself? Was he one of Lord Dagen’s other spies?

  She glanced around the ball, from the massive horns to the colorful displays of masks. In the throng, she couldn’t spot Lord Dagen. The Prince was also nowhere to be seen. She frowned. Where had they all gone? And did it have anything to do with where Fillan had disappeared to as well? Surely they weren’t all together. Not unless the Prince had called together a council meeting, though that would be a strange request during the middle of a ball.

  Out of the corner of her eye, the tall masculine form of the Prince caught her attention. He strode out from behind a thick set of crimson curtains and stood tall on a golden dais. Immediately, the entire room fell into a hush.

  Bree’s heart clenched tight, and she felt herself drawn toward the powerful fae.

  “I would like to thank the entire Court for joining us in the celebration of this year’s Silver Moon. Unfortunately, I must share some grave news at this time, as some unfortunate events have changed our realm forever.” He lifted his chin. “I know you are all wondering where my father is, our esteemed King who has led us through centuries of wealth and power. It is with great regret that I announce his passing, at the hands of a Breking in the realm of the Light Fae. I was there to witness this fight. He fought bravely, but he fell against the beast’s vicious fangs.”

  The entire room was silent and still, every single fae gazing up at the Prince with a mixture of shock and confusion written across their faces. Though, Bree couldn’t help but notice, some looked jubilant by the news.

  “We will be giving him a proper funeral in the coming days.” He cleared his throat. “I would also like to formally announce my intention to follow in my father’s footsteps at the next Battle for the Crown. Thank you all.”

  And with that, the Prince turned and disappeared back through the crimson curtains. A million voices rose up at once, building into a deafening crescendo. Bree got swept up in the crowd as they shifted through the room with a newfound frenzy. The ball had descended into chaos.

  Chapter 25

  Dagen

  Dagen watched Bree from across the room. She really was the most striking fae in the entire ball. He watched her whirl, eyes wide and cheeks pink. And he wanted nothing more than to go to her in that moment. The crowd was beginning to surge, and shouts erupted all around the Great Hall. The fae were getting angry, though he wasn’t surprised. Many of them had loved Midas.

  “We need to go now, Dagen, while everyone is distracted,” Ethne said, whispering into his ear as he took one slow step toward Bree. If he didn’t do something to help her, she could get trampled in the crowd.

  And some of the fae down below were beginning to notice her presence. Now that they were no longer distracted by the song and dance, their eyes were being drawn to her beautiful frame.

  “Bree looks like she might be in trouble,” he said.

  “No time, Dagen.” Ethne squeezed his shoulder. “She will be fine. Look, Taveon’s little lapdog is heading straight for her. He will get her out of here safely.”

  Indeed, Dagen now spotted the silver-haired fae through the crowd. His eyes were locked on Bree. He was charging through the chaos with a fierce determination reflected across his face. Dagen gave a nod. He trusted the shapeshifter to look after her. After all, he had stood by her side during Taveon’s unwise decision to punish her. And he’d carried her away after the attack, making sure she healed.

  He wished he could go to her himself, but he couldn’t. He had made a promise this night, one he could not break.

  Chapter 26

  Bree

  “It is time to steal you away now.” Rafferty appeared beside Bree and tightened his grip on her arm. “Everything is getting a little intense. Best we get you out of here safely before some fights break out.”

  She frowned, though her heart flipped when she twisted to face him. He had dressed up, the same as the others. He wore a deep blue jacket, one that highlighted the color of his silver eyes. His long hair had been pulled back. It showed off just how strong his jaw was and how sculpted his shoulders were.

  “I’m Lord Dagen’s guest,” Bree said, trying to pull her arm out of Rafe’s strong grip. “You can’t make me leave.”

  “Ah, but Lord Dagen is now otherwise engaged. Some of the royals are asking questions. The Prince has ordered that you now return to your quarters before the fae decide to eat you alive.”

  Shivers coursed along Bree’s skin at the look in Rafe’s eyes. He was not joking. He was not exaggerating. He meant every word, which meant...well, maybe it really was time for her to go. She’d had her fun, she’d kind of gotten some information for Dagen, and she’d had enough food and drink to last her for weeks.

  Still, she hated being forced to do anything, so she straightened her back, giving him a nod.

  “I’ll go, but only if you let go of my arm.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Very well. But the second you do anything to try to get away from me, I will not hesitate to put you in shackles.”

  “You wouldn’t.” She narrowed her eyes. Or would he? Just because he had grown friendly with her over the past few weeks didn’t mean that they were anything but instructor and trainee, let alone actual friends. Rafe worked for Taveon and Taveon alone, and he was no doubt irritated by her involvement with Dagen, even if he didn’t know the full extent of their relationship.

  If he did, he really would put her in shackles. And throw her in the dungeon. Or worse.

  Still, he let go of her arm and allowed her to walk freely by his side until they reached the corridor outside of the Great Hall.

  “Why did you come with Dagen?” he asked. “And what did you do to convince him to give you those living quarters?”

  Bree took a deep breath in through her nose. “He asked me if I wanted to go to the ball and he offered me those quarters. Neither of which Taveon bothered to do. As for why, you’ll have to ask Lord Dagen why he did it. I’m not a mind reader.”

  Nor did she wish to come up with a blatant lie about why he’d done what he’d done.

  “You cannot trust him, Bree,” Rafe warned as they continued down the hallway to her new living quarters. “He does not want to see Taveon succeed, and he would do anything to disrupt his ascension to the throne. That could include using you. He would not bother with you unless he had something planned.”

  “Maybe he just likes my company.”

  “Do not be naive.” He cut a glance her way, frowning. “Does this mean you enjoy his company?”

  “He’s not so bad,” Bree said.

  “I find it difficult to believe that you would enjoy being around such an avid supporter of King Midas.”

  “And I find it difficult to believe that you’d be such a big supporter of Prince Taveon,” she said, not even thinking as the words poured from her mouth. “You seem like the most decent fae of them all, but I really don’t think he is, Rafe. That darkness that was inside of his father? It’s inside of him, too. And I honestly believe he’d do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Surely you can see that. How can you be so loyal to a male like that?”

  “Prince Taveon is determined and can be very narrowly focused, I’ll agree.” Rafe loosed a sigh. “But he is a better fae than you think. If it were not for him, I would still be stuck in a hellhole of a life.”

  Bree turned to him, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

  A pause. “I was born part Wilde Fae and into a Clan of shapeshifters. They were just as you would expect most Wilde Fae to be. Savage. Vicious. Murderous. But I never really felt as though I was one of them. That streak of savagery? I never had it. And I was an outcast because of it.”

  Bree felt herself move instinctively toward Rafe as a strange sensation washed over her. She almost felt as thoug
h she wanted to protect him from that kind of world herself, but that was crazy.

  He continued, “You see, my father was a Dark Fae. My mother was a Wilde Fae. I happened to get more of the Dark Fae side, and while most of the Clan never knew, it was almost as if they could sense it. Taveon found me one day in the woods when we were both boys. I had been beaten to a bloody pulp, and there was one Wilde Fae still standing over me. Taveon chased him away and brought me back to the castle here. If it were not for him, I might have died that day. And, if not that day, another one not long to come.”

  Bree’s heart beat hard as she stared up at the strained expression on Rafe’s face. She could tell that while these wounds were old, they hadn’t fully healed. And Taveon had been his saving grace. No wonder Rafe was so loyal, no wonder he’d stuck by Taveon’s side. She would have, too.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “How could you have known? It is not a story I like to tell many.”

  Her heart flickered. He didn’t like to tell many. But he had told her.

  “If it makes a difference, you don’t seem Wilde Fae at all to me.” Her breath caught in her throat. “Of course, you don’t seem all that Dark Fae either, if I’m honest.”

  “I know what you must think of us,” he said. “And I wish it weren’t the case, though I certainly understand why. Some of us are the monsters you imagine us to be.”

  “Yeah. Like Prince Taveon.”

  “Bree,” he warned. “You know that is not true.”

  She had no answer to that. Rafe was right in a way. Over the past weeks, Bree had gone from one opinion to the next. Sometimes Taveon seemed like the monster she’d met. But then others...it seemed like his cruelty was nothing but an act.