Page 19 of Bound By Darkness

My feet dragged against the field of green, but for a woman nearing the end of her life, she was surprisingly strong as she guided me up the stairs, past the arrogant Fae, and into another prison.

Steam billowed from my cup in great heaps as I held it, the nutty and smoky flavor pungent as it wafted to my nose.

She’d corralled me into the kitchen, pushing me into a wobbly chair as she raced around the tight space. I kept one eye on the door, butheleaned against it as he assessed me where I sat.

It was the only exit and I was trapped.

“Go on. Take a sip,” the woman said as she watched my eyes dart across the black substance.

Thirst clung to my throat, pushing me over the edge as I took a slight sip. I slammed the porcelain onto the chipped table as I coughed deeply.

“Not a fan of coffee?” She laughed, handing me another cup filled with water.

My nose wrinkled as she removed the bitter-tasting substance. Did it contain poison or some other ailment to render me useless?

Raising the clear glass, I sniffed it. It seemed fine, but the bitter taste still lingered on my tongue. I wasn’t sure what their plan was. Letting my guard down further would be foolish.

The woman returned with a plate piled high with eggs, toast, jam, fruit, and meat I hadn’t seen before as she set it in front of me.

A cup of water rested in her other hand as she took a sip. Her eyes roved over me, making sure I saw that singular gesture it was safe.

Staring at the spread before me, I fisted the utensil. It looked good. More than good as saliva dripped from the corners of my lips.

Temptation etched my fingers further, but I resisted the pull.

“It’s not poisoned,” she said as she sat next to me, her plate piled with eggs and meat. Her hand shook as she delicatelyraised a piece of egg to her lips, chewing softly before swallowing. “See?”

My stomach rumbled, starvation licking my bones as the beast within won. Gripping the fork, I shoved pieces of egg onto my tongue. I nearly moaned as my mouth warmed for the first time in years. There wasn’t anything graceful about it as I scraped more onto my eager tongue, the textures and taste heavenly. When was the last time I’d had food that didn’t smell slightly of mold?

The slapping of a plate against the table tore my eyes from my fork as he sat, his nimble fingers spreading jam over a piece of toast. He remained quiet, his eyes refusing to trail toward mine.

The woman took a sip from her mug as she directed her attention toward the man. “I’ll need help clearing the garden this afternoon, Ivan.” Her knife worked to cut the meat into thin ribbons.

Ivan.

“Okay,” he said, his knife clinking against the plate.

Who were these people? Why was I here? Why had he rescued me from the prison? Surely, it didn’t consist of stuffing my face with sweetened jam and hearty meats.

“Well, if you’re going to be staying with us for a while, introductions are in order,” she said.

Clearing her throat, she spoke, “I’m Gwen, and this is my son, Ivan. There isn’t much, but you’re free to roam around the house and use whatever you see fit. The bedroom upstairs is also yours. I left a few articles of clothing for you in the dresser, but I’m afraid they won’t fit well.”

Flicking her gaze toward Ivan, she took a bite. “He will also leave you alone for the time being. It seems my son has forgotten his manners during his time away.” A low hum escaped her lips before she leaned back in the wooden chair.It creaked to life as she rested a hand on the table. “Speaking of, what is your name, dear?”

My lips remained sealed. These people didn’t deserve to know my name. Sure, they had fed me, but in this world, kind gestures always required some form of payment.

“Thalia Carr,” Ivan answered, his arms crossing over his chest.

My fork dropped to the plate.

My last name.

“Thalia,” Gwen repeated, the thick accent rolling my name like a prayer. “What a lovely name.”

I rose quickly, the chair clattering to the floor.

I took a step back as pain sent tendrils down my spine. “How do you know that name?”

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