Ransomed to the World

by Stacey Brutger

  Annora ripped her attention away from his handsome face and finally saw herself in the mirror for the first time. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and she lifted her hand to touch her face, then quickly lowered it, not wanting to mess up the makeup. “You made me look beautiful.”

  Edgar shook his head. “No, love, you were already beautiful. This just enhanced what we see every time we look at you.”

  She melted against him, a blush stealing into her cheeks. “Charmer.”

  “No.” He cupped her shoulders, his gaze possessive as he looked down at her. “I only speak the truth.”

  He reached down and tucked her medallion into the heart-shaped bodice. The straps of the dress were just a gauzy fabric that cupped her shoulders, more for looks than to hold the dress up. The gown was a dark purple that clung to her curves, floating around her as she moved.

  She touched the bracer on her wrist. It didn’t match the delicate dress, but she’d rather walk naked into the ceremony than remove the bracer.

  “Come.” Edgar backed away, a shutter falling over his face, the intimate moment gone. “The guys will want to see you before Daxion comes to collect you.”

  She sobered up.

  Edgar stood at the door, hand on the knob, waiting for her. She inhaled deeply for courage, then nodded. He opened the door and stepped back. She peeked out, more nervous about her guys seeing her than about being paraded around at the ceremony.

  The guys’ opinions were the only ones that mattered to her.

  Logan was the first to notice her. He was bouncing a ball against the wall…and missed. The ball smacked him in the face, but he didn’t react at all. “Holy fuck.”

  Mason stopped pacing, turned toward her, and froze, his eyes wide, and he swallowed hard. Camden and Xander whirled, both of them stopping dead. Camden was the first to react, coming to stand in front of her, blocking out the others.

  “You’re stunning.” His gaze landed on the scar on her neck, seeming pleased by seeing his mark, his bright green eyes practically glowing. “None of them can compare to you.”

  She replied with a rueful chuckle. “Now I know you love me…it’s made you blind.”

  Instead of laughing with her, he shook his head, dead serious. “Love has made me see more clearly.”

  Her heart melted. Seeing her speechless, he grinned and stood aside. Xander quickly cut in line when Mason and Logan began to jockey for place. He studied every inch of her, his gaze like a heated caress, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s right—you’re gorgeous.” He leaned forward with a growl. “And I can’t fucking wait to put my own mark on you.”

  “Do it.” Annora wasn’t ashamed of her mates.

  “Soon.” He breathed heavily in response to her invitation, then reached into his duster and pulled out a large white feather. He meticulously wove it into her hair, then stood back and nodded, satisfied with the addition.

  Logan darted around Mason, catching her around the waist and spinning them around the room. She stumbled at first, then relaxed in his arms and followed him trustingly, her dress swirling around them. “You look sexy all dolled up, but I must confess that I love it when you wear jeans too. And I like it best when you wear nothing at all,” he murmured close to her ear, his voice husky.

  He stopped spinning them until she was just standing in his arms. “You’re going to knock them dead. Literally. If they touch you, kill them. For me.” He flashed her a fierce smile, his teeth a little sharper than normal.

  She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and nodded.

  He stepped back, his strides stiff, as if it hurt to send her off without protection.

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Mason spoke at her side, and she turned to look up at him. His troll was riding him hard, his shoulders bulked up, his face fierce, his features more exaggerated.

  And she adored both sides of him.

  “Thank you!” She gave his forearm a quick squeeze.

  His gaze dropped to her bracer, and his hair perked up and began to weave back and forth. “I want to run away with you so no one else can see your beauty. They’ll want to take it for their own.”

  Annora smiled up at him, not concerned in the least. “They’ll find out fast that some beauty can be deadly. I have teeth and claws, and I’m not afraid to use them if anyone tries to take what’s mine.”

  He gave a huff of laughter, then pulled her close. “You will come back to me.”

  It was an order.

  The rest of the guys gathered around close. Camden stopped in front of her, then tipped her face up, his expression unforgiving. “We’ll be watching you the whole time. If you run into any trouble, just let us know, and we’ll get you out.”

  They would run straight into danger for her.

  Before she could protest, the door to her room was thrown open and everyone whirled. Daxion stood just outside, casting an unreadable glance over her men. When his gaze landed on her, it turned smug. “I knew you’d never go anywhere without your mates. It was only a matter of time before they showed up.”

  Fuck!

  She’d been a damned fool. She thought they were safe, but he’d set the perfect trap, one that was guaranteed to make her do exactly what he wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Annora wanted to kick herself, and she would later. For now, she had to find a way to deal with Daxion that didn’t get them killed. She squared her shoulders and centered herself, unwilling to let him intimidate her. “What do you want?”

  His brows rose and he smirked. He had all the cards, and the fucker knew it. He leaned forward, tapped the center of the doorway, and the air rippled like a rock hitting the surface of water. A deep gong resonated through the room. “Your men will remain here until after the ceremony. I’ve made sure of it. Once you fulfill your part of the bargain, you’ll be able to return to them. If you try to leave or renege on the deal, I’ll start killing them. Do you have a favorite? One you want me to save for last?”

  Her insides went cold at his callous taunt.

  He had no intention of letting her or them go.

  Ever.

  The guys were tense, willing to fight. Daxion noticed and gave the guys a cruel, imperious smile, smugness practically oozing from his pores. “The wards circle the entire room. If you try to leave, you’ll be banished to the center of the dead zone. I’ve heard survival there is chancy at best.”

  “He’s right.” Edgar nudged her, never once taking his gaze off Daxion. “It’s a war zone. As soon as we enter, it will be like a dinner bell going off. I can’t guarantee our safety.”

  Fuck!

  Her heart sank.

  “Checkmate, my dear.” Daxion smirked when she glared at him. “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, you’ll see them again…as long as you do what I say. Come, it’s time for the ceremony.”

  Annora shook with impotent rage. Darkness whirled around her, staining the dress black, leaving the purple to shimmer over it like stars had been embedded in the dress. The darkness urged her to rip off his head and fuck the consequences.

  Without a hint of fear, Camden wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her back against him. Wisps of darkness danced around him like eager puppies. He hummed when it soaked in his skin, as if he enjoyed the shock of it. He kissed the mark he’d placed on her neck. “Go with him, love. We’ll be fine without you for a few hours.”

  She reached up and clutched at his arm, allowing his calm to soak into her. It had nothing to do with his toxic touch and everything to do with his ability to remain unruffled no matter what was thrown at him.

  Annora swallowed down her anger, resigning herself to spending an afternoon with people who wanted nothing more than to kill her.

  She gave a nod to the guys, her chest aching like she’d taken a mortal wound as she walked away from them, knowing if she didn’t do this, they’d all be marked for death.

  Which was more than enough incentive.

  Annora squared
her shoulders and stepped through the doorway.

  The wards bit at her skin, the portal rough, like traveling over a bumpy road. A narrow path no more than two feet wide glowed in the darkness. Particles swirled around her as if in welcome, her dress floating weightlessly around her, when she heard the low snarl of a deadly creature as it caught scent of its prey.

  Her.

  The urge to run sparked deep in her gut, but she resisted the need to bolt. If she left the trail, she had a feeling it would be difficult even for her to find her way back in one piece.

  She followed the path, pushing through the darkness until it thinned and she found herself back inside the mansion.

  “Come, we’re going to be late.” Daxion marched off with a scowl, expecting her to follow, and a dozen or so guards fell into step around her. She wasn’t sure if they were there to make sure she didn’t escape or so she couldn’t kill him.

  Voices carried up the stairs, and her breathing stalled for a moment, everything inside her rebelling at once again being paraded in front of people like some damned broodmare. Memories of her uncle doing the same, selling her healing abilities to the highest bidder, made bile rise in her throat.

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they turned and headed farther back into the house. Double doors were open wide, and people mingled beyond, drinking and chatting, their attire magnificent, the men in fancy suits and the women wearing gowns so elaborate, it made hers look like something found at the bottom of her closet.

  As soon as she entered the massive ballroom, everyone turned to look at her, some watching her curiously, others with disgust, but one thing was the same…they all looked down on her. It was easy to pick out the people on the council—they exuded power like a physical punch. She suspected they could pull it back but didn’t, so others would know how much more power they had over them.

  A man hailed Daxion from across the room, and her father turned toward her. “Mingle with the others and try not to embarrass me.”

  Without another word, he strode away and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd. Being surrounded by so many phantoms was overwhelming, especially since she used to believe she was the only one left.

  To find so many still alive was amazing…and if the way they were looking at her was any indication, incredibly sad. They saw her as nothing more than a servant. She edged her way around the crowd, not wanting to be in the center of them without someone to protect her back.

  People slammed into her as if they didn’t see her, a splash of darkness spilling over onto her every time—a test to see how much she could take without crumbling. Not willing to give them any satisfaction, she smiled and swallowed it all down, the magic burning along her bones as she dragged it out of the spells, not giving them a chance to land.

  They expected her to be weak and seemed disappointed when she didn’t fall to the ground writhing in pain. She barely resisted the urge to push back at them, but Edgar’s warning to keep her abilities hidden rang in her head.

  More than one person looked horrified when she got too close, like she was a dog that had just rolled in shit. She found it amusing. Since it was the only fun she was going to have today, she decided to follow a few of them around just to aggravate them.

  But there were so many, it got old fast.

  She scanned the crowd again. While they were all phantoms, a third of them were…altered.

  Then she understood.

  They were branded.

  Elites were gathered in the middle, milling about in order to see and be seen. Gathered around the perimeter of the room were the others, the less desirables. Their outfits weren’t as refined…still polished, but not as dazzling. Some preened and strutted around, trying to gain attention, others were clearly there under obligation and wished they could be anywhere else.

  She could sympathize.

  As she made it to the edge of the crowd, she breathed a sigh of relief…when a man spoke in her ear.

  “So we meet again,” Cedwyn murmured, then offered her a glass of sparkling wine.

  Annora hesitated, but his strained smile showed that he might actually dislike being there as much as her—if that was possible. She accepted the glass gratefully. “Thank you.”

  He gave a murmur of acknowledgment. “You looked like you need it.”

  She snorted at him, lifting her glass to cover her grimace. “You have no idea.”

  He gave her his first genuine smile. “I’ve heard that you’re Daxion’s favorite and going to succeed him as his heir.”

  “That would happen when hell freezes over.” Annora snorted. “I’ve also heard that I’m the runt of the family, and he’s taking pity on me by taking me into his home.”

  “Half the people here are hoping you bring down House Daxion, and the others are hoping you can unseat him from the council. None think you earned it or that you can handle it. They’re just waiting to swoop in and pick over your bones.” Cedwyn swirled the wine around in his glass, surveying the crowd.

  When a powerful spell crashed into her back, Annora nearly staggered. She gritted her teeth, struggling to swallow the pain down. Cedwyn winced in sympathy, but otherwise, neither of them acknowledged what was happening.

  Rage simmered through the connection, the guys literally experiencing every blow, and she quickly shut it down. She didn’t need the added distraction, and they didn’t need the additional worry.

  She’d withstood much worse when she was younger. This was just a different kind of pain. As she breathed through the last of it, she gave Cedwyn a strained smile. “Not that anyone would believe it, but I want nothing from him but my freedom.”

  “You might be surprised at how many of us wish for the same.” Pain lurked in his eyes, and she wondered how many times he had suffered the same type of attention from the elites. “If it helps, they do this to everyone they consider weaker, anyone they think they can step on to prove themselves better.”

  People strolled past, not bothering to conceal that they were studying her. “Are you sure you want to be seen standing next to me? Consorting with the enemy? I’m a pariah. An abomination. You might gain a reputation.”

  A familiar face in the crowd made her pause.

  The captain from the ship.

  Only he was not the same man. His scruff was gone, his ragamuffin clothes replaced by dapper finery. He executed a perfect bow toward them, then disappeared into the crowd.

  Confirming what she suspected—Cedwyn was working with the rebellion, his position precarious at best. If the elites caught him, she had no doubt they’d torture him to give up the other members of the rebellion, then banish him to the dead zone for betraying them.

  Annora took comfort at having an ally in the room for all of a second before her cynical nature kicked in. Were they there to keep watch over her, or make their own move? They wanted her powers as much as Daxion—both believing she was the key to claiming victory. But she had no intention of letting the captain or Cedwyn interfere, not with the lives of her men in the balance.

  “Cedwyn…you need to let things here play out.” She brought up her drink to her lips, but didn’t take a sip. “You mustn’t interfere.”

  He cast her a measured look, then finally gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, and she sighed in relief. Instead of disappearing into the crowd, he remained at her side to guard her…or keep her prisoner…she wasn’t sure which.

  Annora watched the crowd more closely. She caught Cedwyn doing the same and noticed the moment he spotted Sadie. He stiffened, standing up straighter, his eyes narrowing in warning. They seemed to have a silent conversation. Sadie scowled, her chin lifting in challenge, and Annora smiled at the heat between them. “Soooooo, you and Sadie, huh?”

  He whirled so fast, she expected him to get whiplash. His mouth went slack, and he sputtered, “You…I…we….”

  “Are perfect for each other,” she finished for him, putting him out of his misery.

  He gave her a chagrined look, r
ed tinging his cheeks. “You think? She’s so stubborn.”

  She looked past Cedwyn, her gaze landing on Sadie again. “Oh yeah, only people she cares about can drive her that crazy.”

  Cedwyn gave her a big grin.

  Rancorous laughter came from a group nearby, none of them even pretending they weren’t talking about Annora and Cedwyn.

  Cedwyn’s expression turned serious, and he watched Daxion across the room like a poisonous snake waiting to strike. “He’s not going to accept becoming a laughingstock without some kind of retaliation. Be careful. Bets are being placed on how long you’ll last before you’re either challenged for your place in the house or Daxion outright kills you.”

  As she gazed at Daxion, she saw the fury kindling in his dark eyes.

  Shit.

  Cedwyn was correct.

  Daxion was going to make her pay for this humiliation and soon.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met.” A boy around her age approached with a smarmy smile. His dark hair was slicked back, but instead of looking suave, it gave him a creepy, greasy look. “I’m Karl Conway.”

  He tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves, then preened a bit, as if waiting for recognition.

  Only she didn’t give a fuck. The man was repellent, malevolence oozing from him, poised and waiting to snare the unwary and consume them. His skin was as oily as he was, his lips thick, the combination giving him a brutish appearance.

  When no praise followed, a snarl twisted his lips, and he glared at Cedwyn and snapped, “Introduce us, cousin.”

  Cedwyn stiffened at her side, but did as bid. “Annora Daxion, may I introduce you to Karl Conway of the Conway House. They specialize in illusions.”

  Karl gave her a sharp bow, then stuck his snooty nose in the air. “Get lost, Dairi.”

  Cedwyn looked conflicted, and she gave him a nod, suspecting that if Cedwyn stayed, this asshat would punish them both for the slight.

  “How are you finding our society?”

  His slight nasal voice grated on her nerves, and Annora scanned the crowd, looking for an escape. She smiled brightly at him and ignored her half-filled glass. “Why don’t I get us some drinks?”