Page 33 of Kissed By the Sun

Inside we were led to a grand hall, where the High Lord of the Elves sat upon a throne that appeared to be made of intertwined, silver-barked branches, sprinkled here and there with blood red leaves. His piercing gaze fell upon us, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

There was nothing warm or welcoming in his pale green eyes. They were as cold as the stone that surrounded him. His hair was pale yellow, streaked through with white and gray and pulled back in a series of intricate braids to reveal one mangled ear and one that was longer than any I had seen thus far.

Thorn stepped forward, his voice steady as he began to explain. "My Lord, thank you for meeting with us. We come without permission from our courts, but seeking aid nonetheless. The fae lands are being consumed by a blight, and corrupted fae threaten to overrun--"

"Silence!" the High Lord's voice cracked like thunder. "You dare come here, without permission from your superiors, bringing tales of this corruption to our very doorstep?"

I flinched at his harsh tone, my heart racing. This wasn't going as planned. The scent of a thunderstorm filled the hall and my chest tightened with nerves.

"We didn't create the blight," I blurted out, unable to contain myself. "We're trying to stop it!"

The High Lord's eyes narrowed. "And why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be carriers of this...disease."

Thorn placed a calming hand on my arm. "My Lord, please. We understand your caution, but we speak the truth. Our realm is in grave danger, and we fear that danger may spread if left unchecked."

"You speak of fears," the High Lord scoffed, "yet you bring those very fears to my people. How convenient."

I could feel frustration building within me. Why wouldn't he listen? Didn't he understand the gravity of the situation?

"We're not your enemies," I pleaded, taking a step forward. "We're asking for help to save both our realms."

The High Lord's expression hardened. "Enough! First you ask for help and then you threaten us? I've heard quite enough of your tales and pleas." He waved a hand dismissively. "Guards, take them to the dungeons. I need time to...consider their request."

As the rough hands of the High Lord’s guards gripped my arms, I caught Thorn's eye. His face was a mask of calm, but I could see the worry in his gaze. What had we gotten ourselves into? Why hadn’t the High Lord listened? He hadn’t even tried to understand. Now I was being thrown into yet another dungeon, worse yet, Thorn was going to be in the dungeon with me and no one knew where we were, so there was no hope of being rescued.

Chapter

Sixteen

Senara

We had been escortedfrom the throne room, but then at the top of a flight of stairs, Thorn’s guards turned in a different direction and panic clawed at my throat. "No! Don't take him!" I cried, lunging forward. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, holding me back.

Thorn's eyes locked onto mine. The Sun Kissed mark a steady warm glow that should have been reassuring. "It's alright, Senara," he said, his voice steady despite the fear I saw flickering in his gaze. "Stay calm. They won't hurt you if you don't fight them."

I struggled against the guard's grip. "But we can't let them separate us! We have to?—"

The guards holding Thorn gave a tug at his arms, but he didn’t budge. "Look at them," Thorn interrupted, nodding at the warriors surrounding us. "They're powerful, skilled. We don't stand a chance against them in a fight."

I opened my mouth to argue, after all there were only four of them, but something in Thorn's expression made me pause. His eyes were intense, meaningful. A slight shake of his head.

Play along, I realized. Whether he truly believed we couldn't escape or not, he wanted me to act compliant. For now.

I forced myself to relax, though every fiber of my being screamed to fight. "You're right," I said, my voice shaking. "I'll...I'll be good."

Thorn's shoulders loosened slightly. "That's my girl," he murmured.

As they led him away, I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself not to cry out again. My mind raced. What would they do to him? To me? How long before we'd see each other again?

The guard behind me gave me a rough shove. "Move," he ordered.

I stumbled forward, my legs trembling.Play along, I reminded myself. But how long could I keep up the act? And what would happen when I couldn't anymore?

The guard shoved me into a dank, dimly lit cell. The stench of unwashed bodies and despair hit me like a physical blow.

It took longer than I expected for my eyesight to adjust to the gloom, and I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, waiting. Eventually, I began to be able to make out figures in the darkness.

They were huddled together in groups, scattered around the cramped space. The more my eyes adjusted, the more I wished they hadn’t. The prisoners were all women, which wasn’t a surprise, but their gaunt faces and sunken eyes spoke of prolonged captivity and near-starvation. Then there were the bruises, swollen eyes, noses that had clearly been broken at some point and not allowed to heal properly. They weren’t just starved, they were abused.

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