Page 8 of A Kiss of Deception

But no. Patience. The ring pulses and sings its siren song, a reminder of my true purpose.

“P-pleased to meet you,” Korrine stammers, dipping into a clumsy curtsy, her movements devoid of confidence. She performs the act as if it’s ingrained in her—an automatic response honed through years of conditioning.

“The pleasure is mine, good lady,” I murmur, bowing slightly, my silver eyes never leaving hers. I drink in the confusion that flickers across her face at my cultured tones. In that fleeting moment, I glimpse her inner turmoil—a struggle forged in pain, an unwillingness to fight against the tide of an existence that has taught her that submission is survival.

A new voice cuts through the tension, sharp and unexpected. “Why would a dark elf bother serving you?”

My head snaps toward the source. A young human female stands in a doorway I hadn’t noticed before, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. How did I miss her presence? My senses must be duller than I thought in this cursed form.

Jarvil’s face flushes an ugly red. “You watch your mouth, girl! Didn’t I teach you to respect your elders?”

“Earn respect,” she shoots back defiantly, her chin jutting out.

I study her, intrigued. Where Korrine radiates fear, this one blazes with rebellion. It’s… refreshing. A spark of life in this den of misery.

But Jarvil’s face contorts with rage, his meaty hand shooting out to grab Korrine’s wrist. The sight fuels an ember of excitement within me. She whimpers, a dismal sound that sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

“You,” he snarls at his wife, “bedroom. Now.” His gaze swings to his daughter, venom dripping from every word. “And you, girl. One more word outta that smart mouth and you’ll regret it.”

With a forceful tug, he drags Korrine towards a door at the end of the cramped hallway. Her eyes widen with terror, and though her feet stumble in protest, there’s no resistance—smart woman, indeed. The door slams behind them, a finality that reverberates in the stillness left behind.

I turn to the girl, curiosity piquing as a sheen of confusion crosses her face. “Well now, that was quite the family reunion.”

She glares at me, defiance radiating off her in waves, but her eyes dart back to the closed door, tension coiling her tight like a rattlesnake.

A muffled cry echoes from the bedroom, piercing the heavy atmosphere like a knife. The girl’s face twists in disgust, but beneath it, there’s a flicker of something else—resignation? No… guilt?

I lean closer, heightening the intensity of the moment. “Just think, every sound that comes from within those walls is a reminder of what it means to be powerless. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Her expression hardens, but it’s clear: the horrors unfolding on the other side grip her heart with the chill of despair.

5

MEETHA

His eyes lock onto mine, a predatory gleam in their depths. No servant, dark elf or otherwise, has ever looked at me like that. A chill races down my spine.

“What are you really?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

A slow smile spreads across his face, revealing teeth too sharp to be natural. “Perceptive little thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not little.” I refuse to be intimidated. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He steps closer, the air around him crackling with energy. “What makes you think I’m not what your father claims?”

“I’ve seen dark elves before. You’re... different.” I make a vague gesture, uncertain of the exact reason.

“Different how?” His voice drops low.

I swallow hard. “You carry yourself like you own the place. Like you’re used to being obeyed.”

“Perhaps I’m simply confident.”

I snort. “Right. And I’m the Queen of Protheka.”

His eyes narrow, amusement flickering within. “Careful, little one. Curiosity can be dangerous.”

“So can lying. What’s your name?”

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