The bull-shifter’s eyes flicked to the man standing behind me, his lids narrowing in a glare.
“What if I don’t, old man?” he huffed, his foot pawing the ground like an animal’s hoof.
“She didn’t know. Let her be this time,” the man said. Every word he spoke was like a warm bath. Soothing and calming.
Rodriguez snarled, his head wagging. “You take far too many liberties, Tadhgan. Someday you will see you aren’t as untouchable as you think you are.”
“Until then…” I felt the man step in close in behind me. “You will not touch this girl.” His hands cuffed my arms, firm and powerful.
Rodriguez’s glower moved from him to me, disgust curling his lips before he snorted and shoved his tray at the man behind the counter, taking the final cup of food before marching away.
Tension vibrated in my body, along with anger, fright, and disappointment. I had taken down men with his temperament many times, but this time fear crippled me. Maybe he couldn’t shift into his bull form here, but his power pulsated under his skin. He could tear me apart.
If I’d thought the teachings at HDF were brutal and relentless, I now realized it hadn’t been enough for real survival. How ill-prepared every soldier there was for a real battle against the fae.
Taking a deep breath, I curved around to look at the man behind me. Surprise curled down my throat, not ready for who stood behind me.
“Old man” was an understatement. His back was curved and twisted, hunching him over, far below my height. He held on to a cane, the stick assisting his thin legs. He had shoulder-length gray hair, left loose and knotted. His face was craggy; years and stories lined it with rich history. Skinny, his white uniform hung off his bones. It was the only white one I had seen.
His eyes widened, his body jerking back like he’d seen a ghost, his throat bobbing. But the emotion fluttered from him as fast as it came, making me believe I imagined it.
I stared at him, my brows furrowing with confusion.
The bull-shifter yielded to this old man? Frail and deformed.
“Not what you thought?” A soft smile grew on his worn face.
“No. I’m just…that’s not it.” My tongue stumbled over my lie.
His smile grew, his shaky hand reaching out to pat my shoulder. “Can’t really lie to a Druid, girl.” He clicked his tongue. “We tend to see through bullshit.”
“Y-you’re a druid.” My mouth fell open as people brushed by us, claiming what little crumbs were left. Shock kept me in place. Druids were rare, especially in Hungary. The bigotry toward Druids in the Eastern Bloc had never receded. Fae still hated them, and humans mistrusted them.
The old Seelie queen had murdered millions, long before my time, driving many of them underground to survive. But the current ruling queen was a Druid, and she’d drawn them back into the light, moving many to the Western world to live safely under her rule.
“They don’t have me wearing white for nothing.” His free hand motioned down his bent form, chuckling. “Not that looking at this ugly mug doesn’t tell you I’m certainly not fae, but still far too pretty to be human.” He winked playfully.
Confusion tugged at me. Why was this man teasing me? It put me on edge, wondering if something was going to come at me while he was lowering my guard.
“So distrustful.” He stared into my eyes like he was peeling away my skin. “But at the same time so naïve.”
My jaw locked down.
“Come.” He squeezed my arm, hobbling past me. “Sit with me. Have some coffee, at least.”
“I-I…”
“I need some company. Tired of muttering to myself.” He went to a counter with large thermoses, pouring two coffees. I followed, not knowing if it was a mistake, but the draw to the Druid was too powerful to fight. Something about him felt familiar and comfortable.
Automatically, I picked up both cups while he tottered to a table in the back. Heads turned in my direction, glares and snarls following me to the back table.
“Nice to have more than myself to converse with. Not many willing to sit with an old Druid man.” He grunted noisily as he sat down on the stool attached to the table. Everything here was bolted down or built in. Fewer items to be used as weapons. “I can give you a little rundown of this place.”
“I don’t need your help.” I set down the coffee cups. Need meant weakness.
He snuffed in. “Do you smell that?” He took a deep breath. “Are you bathing in bullshit now, girl?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Now sit down.” He nodded at the chair.
Stiffly, I perched on the stool, my eyes darting around.
“Good. Always be on guard in this place. Imagine this is the pride lands of Africa, and everything here is hunting you.”
“Africa?” I snorted, taking a sip of the black goop they called coffee, cringing as the bitter taste lumped down my throat. Africa was a distant continent I knew from geography books, but it might as well be another universe. I knew very little about it. “What the hell do I know of that place?”
“Goddesses, this breaks my heart.” He sighed. “Your generation lives its entire existence on a speck of dirt, where experience, education, and life are confined within walls because some nobles wanted to keep all the power and control. That’s not a life.”
“It is to me.”
“Because you’ve never smelled the rich spices in India, seen a sunset in Greece, heard the rush of the water in Victoria Falls, tasted real coffee in Turkey. Your life is minuscule.”
“Fuck you.” I slammed down my cup and stood up.
“Sit back down.” He grabbed my hand. “It’s not your fault, girl. Freedom is something this area has not had a great friendship with.” His blue eyes stared into me until I felt my ass hit the seat again.
He tilted his head, his gaze not wavering. “You are a strange one.”
“I’m starting to see why you have no friends, old man.”
A grin bloomed on his face. “Never take anything in here at face value.” He shifted on the chair with a groan. “What’s your name? What family do you reside from?” His sharp eyes peered at me on the last question.
I watched him over my cup, taking another sip, the lie slipping out easily. “Nagy,” I said. “Laura Nagy.” I gave him one of the most common names in this area. There had to be thousands of girls with this name. Kovacs was common, too, but Brexley Kovacs was not. My real name was very well-known by the fae. I didn’t want anyone knowing my real identity.
“Sure it is.” His grin turned into a chuckle, amusement creasing his already wrinkled face. “I’m Tadhgan. Call me Tad. I know my name is a mouthful.”
“Okay, Tad,” I replied dryly.
His gaze centered on me, making me feel he was trying to dig through and unearth my soul, find my secrets.
“What?” I grumbled.
He watched me for another beat before he shook his head. “Nothing. Simply mind tricks of an old, crumbling mind.” He took a sip of coffee and gazed out at the other prisoners. “You need to quickly learn the hierarchy here if you want to live under the radar. Survive.” His blue eyes met mine. There was surprising youth, but extensive knowledge also dancing in them. I knew Druids lived thousands of years longer than humans, one of their gifts given to them centuries ago by the fae gods and goddesses. “Though, I say nothing comes from being nothing.”
“Shocking really, you don’t have friends.” I huffed into my cup.
“Okay.” He nodded around the room. “Humans wear the gray uniforms, half-breeds blue, fae the yellow, demons red. Druids are in white, which is just me. The prison divides us by color on purpose—to keep the lines of hate strong between the groups. They want us to cling to our bigotry so we fight each other, not them. They want the constant reminder we are not all equal.” He patted his chest, trying to get down the thick coffee. “And merely because you’re human doesn’t mean other humans are on your side. If they are still here, it means the
y’ve learned to survive and will stab your back if they need to.” He nodded at the dotting of gray outfits scattered through the space. There were a few seated together, but most had wiggled in with yellow and blue uniforms. “Rodriguez and his group are what I call third-tier bullies. Mean, intimidating, the kind who beat up smaller people to show how big and powerful they are. Definitely a group to avoid, but there’s a lot of prancing and pawing the ground if the second-tier steps in.” Tadhgan gestured toward a table in the middle. All red.
The demons. The top of the food chain. And almost all women. In the group of eight, only three I could see were men, resembling lions resting on their rock. My attention moved over them, noticing the blue-haired demon I met in the bathroom sitting among them. Within the group, she seemed to be an island within herself. Drinking coffee and picking at breakfast, she didn’t engage with the other demons.
But she was part of the second tier. Powerful.
“Wait. You said second tier?” I looked back at the Druid. “What’s above demons?”
His gaze slowly slid to mine, lowering the mug from his lips.
“Him.”
Chapter 12
“Him?” My brow furrowed, following the Druid’s gaze. I curved in my seat, searching the room until my eyes landed on a figure in the far corner sitting by himself. Like a blow to my lungs, air caught in my chest, and I sat up straighter. How had I missed him? In the sea of color, the huge man dressed in all black was a drop of blood on white paper.
His long, dark hair was pulled back, heavy scruff cut along his strong jawline, displaying his full bottom lip. His unnerving aqua eyes slid slowly over the room like fingers caressing a body. The bright color against his olive skin and black hair and lashes made them pop out like laser beams set on you. With one foot on a bench seat, he leaned against the wall, his arm draped over his knee, a king watching over his domain, taking everything in.
Alpha. Brutal. Raw. Dangerous. Terrifying. Sensual.
Everything about him was severe. Even sitting, I could tell he had to be taller than six foot six. His tattoo-covered arms, shredded with muscles, exhibited physical strength. Even the loose V-neck uniform curved snugly around his biceps, chest, and pecs.
Intensity, power, dominance, and violence danced around him as if they were the only things daring to be near him. He appeared at ease, but every touch of his gaze over the room suggested he could kill before the enemy even knew he moved.
Peering through his dark lashes, his gaze met mine, and making me feel I had been punched in the stomach, ripping the air from my lungs. My heart thumped against my ribs like it came to life or knew it was about to die, drumming the final chords in my life. Against the cotton, my nipples hardened, instantly reacting to the intense energy moving around me.
Fuck. Me.
It was too much, his stare ripping the clothes away from my body, peeling at my skin, and tearing through my flesh. The adrenaline rushed over me at seeing death head-on. Finally, his impassive gaze broke away, and I gasped in relief.
“Wha-what is he?” Heat still lit my cheeks on fire, my pulse tapping at my neck.
“No one knows.”
“What?” My head jerked back to Tad. “He’s fae, though. He has to be.”
“Does he?”
“No human has that kind of power.”
“As a Druid, I can see the energy of everyone in this room, their aura, sense what they are.” Tad set down his cup, clearing his throat. “Everyone but him.”
“You can’t tell if he’s human or fae?”
“There is nothing around him.” Tad’s attention pointed at me. “Or around you.”
“What?” I straightened. “Me?”
“Your aura is void of both life and death. Nothing.” Tad tilted his head. “Like him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Means either you have gotten unbelievably good at hiding your aura, or I’ve gotten so lonely I’m making up imaginary friends.”
“Believe me, I wish I weren’t actually here.” I ran a hand through my hair, which the harsh disinfectant had made brittle and knotted. “How would someone hide their aura? Is that why you said I was strange?” It wasn’t something I remember learning, but maybe I’d done so accidentally.
“I don’t know. Besides him, never seen it happen to this degree.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some people get good at hiding their energy, build up walls, but I usually still sense something.”
My stomach rolled, a rush of icy heat coating my skin.
“Don’t worry, girl. You’re looking a little peaked there.” He shifted uncomfortably on his backless seat, pain flickering through his features. “You are human. I’m guessing you’ve learned to protect yourself. Keep your guard up at all times.”
My shoulders lowered. I felt oddly relieved. It made sense I had put fortification around myself living with Istvan. Every day, I was either a soldier in training or attending a party upstairs with a false smile on my face. Always on the defense and ready for whatever was thrown at me. Some days it was a fist, on other days, a forced husband.
“Why is he the only one wearing black?” I couldn’t fight sneaking another glance at him. Even though he wasn’t looking at me, I somehow knew he was aware of my attention on him. Without his eyes on me, he still was like the sun, too much to look at for long.
“Because he’s in a league of his own. They don’t know what to classify him under. I’m warning you to be careful of him. He has pull here that no one has gotten close to. Whatever he wants, he gets, and the guards look the other way. You are dead if he decides it. He’s undefeated in the Games. He rules this place.”
“Games?”
“Right. You’re a fish.” Tad’s head bobbed, and he rubbed at his callused chin. “No words would accurately describe it. You will see for yourself tonight.”
A bell sounded in the room, and a table filled with blue and yellow uniforms next to us jumped up, making me flinch. My senses and defenses were turned up so high being this close to a bunch of fae.
“Breakfast is over.” Tad gestured to everyone heading for an exit. “It’s been a pleasure, Laura.” He winked at me, struggling to rise. “Work time.”
I leaped up, helping him get off the seat.
“Damn this old twisted frame,” he grumbled, his nails digging into my arms as he rose to his feet. “I preferred when the only thing twisted about me was my mind.”
I laughed, watching him hobble away, picking up our cups to take to a bin.
A figure moved past me, and people leaped out of the way, knocking into me. My head lifted to see the man in black sauntering past, towering above most of the prisoners here. His presence sent a chemical reaction through me; heat flooded my chest and flushed my cheeks. His broad shoulders, torso, and ass were so taut anything would bounce right off.
Did he spend all day just working out?
Why did everyone bow down to this guy? Why was he so special? Even the demons moved out of his way.
“Don’t think about it, little lamb.” A familiar voice tsked in my ear, moving in next to me. The blue-haired demon smirked at me, her head shaking.
“What?”
“There is not a woman or man who hasn’t tried.” She wiggled her eyebrows at his fleeting figure. “They bring women in for him to fuck. He doesn’t speak to or associate with anyone here. He killed someone for sneaking into his cell and trying to seduce him.”
“Seriously? They bring in prostitutes for him?” I blinked at her.
“Prostitutes.” She snorted. “These girls would pay him. All come willingly.”
“Why? What’s so special about him?”
“Besides the obvious?” She pulled on her braid, still staring at his ass before he disappeared from view.
“He could be human for all you guys know. I didn’t think fae ever bowed down to humans. Aren’t we less than? Scum that needs to be erased?”
She curved her head to me and asse
ssed my body. “Aren’t we to you?
Fair point.
“He doesn’t care if you are female, male, old, young, fae, or human. You bother him? You’re good as dead.” She moved forward, glancing back at me. “Just a friendly warning from your local demon. Stay far away from Warwick Farkas.”
The foam cups slipped from my fingers, splashing the leftover contents across the cement floor, spraying over my boots.
“What?” Fear wobbled my voice.
“I gather even the human side has heard of him.” A sharp smile curled her mouth. “It’s like finding out dragons still exist, huh? But you’ll never get to tell anyone you’ve seen one in person. Heed my warning, lamb. Stay away.” She turned back around and strolled out of the room.
Warwick Farkas?
Holy shit…
Hanna’s mention of him the day in training came back into my head.
“We’ve all heard the tales. He will kill you without blinking…and he’s so unbearably hot, you go willingly.”
“I’m here to train you guys for real enemies, not make-believe ones.”
“My sister’s boyfriend’s father said he was very real. Saw him fight a dozen men at once in the Fae War.”
“Did he tell you Santa Claus was real too? The Wolf is nothing but an exaggerated and glorified tale, inflated every time he is mentioned.”
But the man himself just walked by me. The stuff of myths and fables—ghost stories told around a campfire, setting fear in your blood. The rumor was he did not consider himself loyal to any side. No one knew anything about him personally, only that he moved like a ghost and killed in silence. A true enigma.
But he was real. Here.
The man whose last name meant “Wolf” ruled the House of Death.
“Prisoner 85221!” A gnarly voice coiled down the dark hallway, sounding similar to broken glass ground on pavement. A huge creature stepped into my path, and I sucked back a wheeze of fear. Not all fae were beautiful or had a sultry voice, luring in their prey. Some were scarier than nightmares.
Dressed in all black like the rest of the guards, with weapons hanging off its belt, a monster more than nine feet tall stomped up to me, the ground shaking under my feet. Patchy gray skin, scarred and cut, covered its thick muscles; the shirt was so tight against its chest it looked as if it had boobs. Its shoulders brushed either side of the corridor, and its head bowed to keep from scraping the top. It had teeth like a wild boar, and its nose was smashed in, forcing the thing to breathe out of its stinky mouth. It snarled down at me. I couldn’t tell what sex it was, but I knew it was at least half ogre. I’d seen many pictures of them.
Savage Lands Page 10
