Page 16 of Of Wind and Terror

The temple getting attacked.

Patric leading me into the secret tunnels.

Aleksander’s unexpected appearance.

The black virus.

I even mention Patric’s strange words—and how I don’t believe the male speaking to me was actually Patric. It was almost like some ethereal creature was using the old priest as a vessel for him to speak through. Patric was nothing but a puppet, all of his movements orchestrated by some higher power.

And finally, I tell her about the raised mark on my skin.

Faye’s brows furrow when I finish my story, and for the longest time, she doesn’t speak. As the silence between the two of us grows and stretches like a taut string, I begin to fret.

Have I just made a terrible mistake trusting her with all of this information? I don’t even know her.

And yet…

A tiny voice whispers in the back of my head, “Trust her. Trust her. Trust her.” It’s nearly impossible to ignore.

“I’ve never heard of the Mark of Chaos,” Faye says at last, the crease between her brows deepening. “And I’ve certainly never heard of the Hunter of Amorite. Then again, the elves are notoriously private individuals.” She runs a finger across her jawline in contemplation. “Do you think Aleksander will answer your questions if you ask them?”

I snort before I can stop myself. “I doubt it. He seems like the type that would hold the information over my head for as long as he can in order to get what he wants.”

A frown touches her lips. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

She stands abruptly and moves towards the front door of her hut. “Come. Let’s have a word with our prisoner, shall we?”

I wouldn’t consider this room a dungeon. I’ve been in dungeons before.

This is far too luxurious.

The tiny room consists of a straw bed, a handful of blankets, a pillow, a basin of water, and a chamber pot that looks to have been recently cleaned. There are a few windows, but they’re high enough up that even someone as tall as Aleksander would have difficulty reaching them. Ambient moonlight trickles in through the glass, creating lines of silver across the stone ground.

The elf himself reclines on the bed, looking positively relaxed despite the situation. One of his arms is strewn across his forehead, while the other lies limply at his side. His body twitches when we step into the room, but otherwise, he doesn’t outwardly respond or even acknowledge our presence.

“We’ll take it from here,” Faye tells the guards she assigned to watch over him.

The three of them nod and quickly exit down the hallway.

Leaving the two of us alone with Amorite’s best assassin.

“Cherub.” Aleksander’s husky voice drags my attention to him. He peels open one eyelid to stare at me. “I knew you’d come back for me. It’s nearly impossible for someone to resist my charm.”

Faye scoffs and steps farther into the room. The movement not only puts her closer to the indolent elf but also directly in front of me, blocking me from view. I have to shift slightly to see over Faye’s shoulder.

Aleksander’s eyes narrow on the petite female.

“I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to you yet. I’ve heard you're the fae responsible for all of…this.” He lazily waves a hand in the air to indicate the community as a whole. “But if you’re here to have your wicked way with me, I regret to inform you that I’m a taken elf. Now, please move your scrawny ass to the side so I can see my cherub. I’d hate to have to kill you.”

“So you’re the Hunter of Amorite,” Faye muses, ignoring his threat. “Impressive.”

“So you’ve heard of me?”

I would’ve expected that statement to sound cocky coming from him, but it’s merely matter-of-fact.

“Of course,” Faye bluffs.

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