Page 120 of Court of the Fae Princes

FURY OF THE KINGS

ONE

Forrest

I thump the back of my head against the wall again in frustration. What the hell does the Keeper of Death want with us? The unspoken fae code for these types of deals is simple: humiliate and move on.

Just last year, a fae swore his life to another fae if she would only give him a kiss. The deal was done, and she made him parade about the party in a see-through dress while people laughed at his erection. It was at the Spring Palace, so of course, it ended in a very willing orgy before the young man was freed from the deal.

Years before, a Winter Fae swore his life to a Fall Fae for help after he’d been lost in the woods. The Fall Fae made him build a glass house piece by piece with his own two hands. When it was finished, the Winter Fae was freed, and the glass house stood as a reminder that the Fall Fae had put the Winter Fae in his place.

Yet, we’d been given no indication of what this Keeper wanted. We’d simply been thrown into this room and left to rot. This is not in the sport of a fae deal.

How many days have passed? It’s weird, but I truly have no idea. I don’t know if it’s the darkness or something else, but my sense of time has made this miserable experience seem even longer than it’s actually been. I think.

“What does she want?” I whisper angrily.

But my words travel in the dark, uncomfortably silent room. “To bore us to death,” Cobar responds, irritation in his voice.

The Keeper hasn’t been to visit us since we were first left here. I have no idea how much time has passed, but I’m getting angry. Angry because I’m hungry. Angry because the darkness hurts my eyes in a way that’s hard to describe. And angry because this isn’t how these deals typically go. I mean, I knew making a deal with the House of Death would end in weirdness, but this is more than weirdness.

“I can smell the dead,” Zane says. “I don’t like this place one bit.”

“No surprise that dark catacombs deep underground aren’t a fun and cheery place to be,” I say.

Sulien sighs. I know it’s him, because he’s been sighing a hell of a lot since we got here. “We just need to play the Keeper’s game, no matter how long it takes, and try to get back to Cassia and fix things.”

“If they can be fixed,” Zane adds.

There’s silence for a minute before I speak. “We were idiots to make a deal with the Keeper of Death that Cassia would marry us when we didn’t know how she’d answer,” I say, feeling my heart ache at the memory.

“We took a chance. Maybe the next time we try, we’ll win,” Cobar says solemnly.

She seemed pretty adamant that she wasn’t open to the idea of marrying us. Which is strange. I’m pretty sure when my dad discovered my mom was his mate, he fucked her in front of everyone at the party, and they had a drunken wedding that very night.

If Cassia wants more romance than we’re giving her, I’m not sure we have it in us. Or is it not about the romance? Is it just that she doesn’t want us no matter how we’re packaged?

“We’re her mates. Eventually, she has to come around.” I sound confident, but I’m not. Nothing about Cassia makes me feel confident.

“Maybe we should be trying to escape,” Cobar says, surprising us all. “Maybe that’s what the Keeper wants us to do in order to be free from the deal.”

It’s embarrassing that I never even thought of that. I’ve just been sitting here, glaring at the darkness. Cobar’s smarter than we give him credit for.

“That’s actually… a good idea,” Zane says. “The House of Death isn’t exactly known for communicating well.”

I climb to my feet awkwardly, hearing the sounds of the others doing the same. Between the chilly underground and sitting still in the darkness, my body is sore. I roll my neck and touch my toes, shaking out the stiffness. “Alright, let’s do this. I’ll lead.”

“I should,” Sulien says.

It’s hard not to roll my eyes. “Why exactly? Because you’re the mighty Sulien? The man whose cock never gets soft?”

“Is that my reputation?” He sounds amused for a second, before continuing. “I guess you can lead, if you remember how we got in here.”

Damn it. “Fine, lead, whatever, I don’t care.” Smug asshole.

“Alright,” he says. “Be careful. There are both bodies and bones on the ground. Stay close to each other. One hand on each other’s shoulders.”

We line up, me behind Sulien, Frost behind me, and Cobar at the rear, and make our slow way toward one of the walls. Sulien stops when he reaches one, and even though I can’t see him, I can hear him running his hand along the wall, searching for the opening. Vaguely, I do recall the Keeper leaving from somewhere around here.

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