Page 17 of Bound By Darkness

I was no longer a High Fae’s daughter tossed into this cell. Only a skeleton remained of my former self from the years of torment my father deemed as punishment.

Galar.

He was sending me to Galar—the one place no one ever returned alive.

If he wanted me dead, he had found his mark.

Chapter 7

Breaking Shadows

THALIA

Blindinglight flitted over my eyelids as a groan left my lips.

I stuffed my head deeper into the pillow to avoid the harsh rays. It hugged my flushed face as my arm draped over another, its silky texture soothing against the throbbing ache radiating in my spine.

My hand ran over the white sheets?—

Everything slowly filtered through my mind, pieces coming back one by one. Lord Haville’s dead body. The tonic. The masked assailant.

My fingers reached behind my back to assess the damage, but they paused as they flitted over the soft texture of linen, the movement sending ripples of pain across my entire back.

It had been real.

Taking a breath at the unfamiliar decorum, I scanned the room. Situated across from the four-poster bed lay a wooden chest and desk, each etched in different patterns and whorls of red cedar. It would have been quaint, cozy even if I knew where I was.

A hiss left my lips as I shuffled out of bed, soreness radiating down my back.

I searched the room for anything that might provide me with a clue, but I didn’t even find a single piece of paper with a name scrawled across it. Scratching my head, the other solution required me to wander outside the room to where my captors potentially waited.

I chose to roam outside as I cracked open the door, the hinges groaning to life as I hobbled into the hallway.

There were two doors across from me as I opened the first one, revealing a bathroom. The other door revealed a bedroom mirroring the one I had woken up in. The only difference seemed to be a bookshelf by the window stuffed with yellow-paged books.

Leaving the rooms behind, I slowly made my way to the staircase at the end of the hallway, the floorboards creaking under my weight as I descended.

The sound echoed in the all-too-empty house, my breathing growing uneven with each step. The stairs opened into a living room with two green couches opposite each other. The space was cramped due to the massive brick fireplace along the wall. Decorated with stems of ivy and lace, the fireplace matched the pattern sewn into the couches with red thread.

Situated across from the living room lay a display case of metallic swords and daggers glittering with gems. They were beautifully crafted, the thin curve of the blades an art form I had long since seen.

I tore my eyes from the glass case as a figure darted from the door beside me, light bouncing off its surface. The shadow stopped, gray eyes widening as they met mine.

Gray eyes—it was him. The man from the carriage.

He was dressed in a fitted black shirt and baggy pants that were too casual among the tacky furniture. His arms flexed across his chest, the muscles underneath rippling as he paused, his head angling toward me.

Curly black hair swirled around his cheekbones and forehead, highlighting the planes and angles of his face. He was someone Moria would have called handsome, blessed by the Fae gods for his chiseled jaw and bone structure. Someone we both would have fawned over in another lifetime.

A pang in my chest reminded me Moria rotted in that cell alone. I had broken our promise.

The image sent an icy chill through my blood and bones, anger gnawing and snapping through them. All my rage needed a target as I threw myself at him, a snarl rising from my throat.

My arms found his chest as I punched and slapped the muscle beneath. Skin ripped and tore under my bandages, but my fury consumed me more than the trivial feeling of pain.

He didn’t flinch as he became the target of my aggression. “You!” I screamed. He caught my hand as he deflected my punch. “You kidnapped me!”

I curled my free hand as I sent it hurtling toward his chest, but he gripped it with his fingers, stopping the momentum.

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