Page 20 of Twisted Bonds

As if he’s completely unaware of how much my stomach is churning, he casually flicks his wrist to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

It’s not a question or an invitation. It's a command. A command that gets my hackles up, but I have to keep my cool. I can’t get impulsive and stabby like Sunder. I have to play this smart. Like Mira.

I take my seat, ignoring the juxtaposition of his finely tailored suit across from my travel-worn clothes that still smell of campfire from a few nights ago.

“So, what is your interest in me?”

I take a casual position, leaning back in my chair. His eyes light up as if accepting some unspoken challenge I didn’t realize I’d made. He leans back, his posture mimicking mine. His keen eyes watch me with interest as his Chroma swells, pulling a bottle of red wine from the table laden with delicious smelling foods. “Red or white?”

I raise my chin, annoyed at being ignored. “Red is fine.”

The bottle hangs in the air, filling our glasses. He raises his glass in a toast, eyes gleaming with mock seriousness. “To new friends.”

Raising my glass, I reply, “Friends are like wine. The old ones are better.”

I give him a wink before I down the entire glass in one gulp. He sips his before bringing the bottle over to refill mine.

“Depends on the vintage, Vessel.”

Food fills my plate, seemingly on its own. There has to be a way out of this. I glance around the room, looking for anything that gives me an idea of how to escape this lunatic. My mind flashes to all the true crime documentaries I’ve watched over the years. Yet, this man is my mate. There must be some kind of connection between us I can use to my advantage.

All I know about him right now is that he likes verbally sparring, so that’s what I’ll give him.

“And you think your vintage is superior?”

His lips curl into a wicked grin, and he lifts his gaze from the wine bottle to meet my eyes. “I think you’ll find, Vessel, that I have many… fine qualities.”

“Just fine? Surely, humility isn’t one of these qualities you mention.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair and swirling his wine glass carelessly. “I don’t need to be humble. I know my strengths.” His eyes gleam with arrogance and self-assurance, but there’s also something else. A curiosity, a spark of interest that was not there before. “But do you know yours, I wonder?”

I frown. It’s a challenge, a bait. But it’s also a question I’ve been wrestling with since well before arriving in Illuemera. Instead of letting my insecurities fly, I change the subject.

“This villain lair vibe suits you,” I say, gesturing to the cavernous rocky ceiling.

He raises an amused eyebrow, looking around as if seeing his surroundings for the first time. “I suppose it does have a certain… ambiance. Although I don’t know that I’d describe it as villainous.” His eyes twinkle with mirth.

“So, are you planning to keep me here indefinitely?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual. “Because if that’s the case, I might need to redecorate.”

“Decorate away, Vessel. After dinner, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

“My rooms?”

He nods, his green eyes gleaming with that smug amusement that makes me grit my teeth. “Yes, your rooms. Of course, you’ll have your own space. I’m not a monster.” He waves a dismissive hand, the picture of arrogance.

For a moment, I’m relieved. Staying in those depressing dungeons is a little more than I can bare. Besides, if I’ve got more freedom, maybe I’ll be able to find a way out sooner. But my mind settles on Callum. He seemed so happy to have someone to finally talk to.

“And what of Callum?”

Tairyn’s expression remains impassive, yet his air shifts to something more dangerous. His fingers tap lightly on the table, almost in irritation. His tone is light, unbothered, but there are some cracks beneath that calm surface. “What of him?”

“Will he also be getting nicer accommodations?”

“He has everything he wants.” Hot anger flares through me.

“He wanted to be locked away for disagreeing with you about some war?”

“Is that what he told you?”

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