Page 7 of A Bond in Blood

My stomach turned and I pulled my eyes away, staring off toward the fjord as the ship rocked forward.

If I were going to go to the Unseelie court, then I would go. It didn’t mean I had to be there the full year.

Not when I planned to remove the king’s head with my own bare hands.

My head pounded as the ship rocked beneath me. I hated sea travel. Ironic, considering my home was surrounded by water and I have always had a desire to travel my world.

It drove me mad of course, the contradictory circumstance I regularly found myself in. Most especially in our yearly travels to the Seelie lands to Oberon’s court. Several days of agony on the ocean, locked away in a cabin cursing my body’s negative reaction to the swaying waters.

I turned on the cot I laid on, staring out at the cabin I’d been given. Or more so locked in forcefully by the beast Olen and only after I’d emptied the contents of my stomach right onto the deck, in front of every beastly Unseelie on the crew.

Olen had laughed brashly before whisking me away to my traveling prison.

I just hadn’t expected him to lead me to the Captains quarters. Or for him to claim his king wasn’t on board and how much of ashameit was. Because, according to the monster, the king would have loved a body to warm his bed.

I swung for his face.

An action I instantly regretted when the beast had shoved me back and the clang of the door locking on the other side echoed down to my bones.

I wasn’t sure how many days I’d been in there, swaying in that cot. Barely able to accept the meals shoved through the open door twice a day.

I don’t know if it really mattered though. Every day the sun set and the red of the blood moon casted its light through the cabin’s small window. I prayed to the Gods this journey would be a quick one. Even when my island had disappeared into the distance, I only wanted to complete whatever service my ancestor had assigned me to so I could begin my life the way I deemed fit.

My body rocked in the cot, and I turned my head back to the window, admiring the way the red moon lit the dark sea beneath it. I knew the Unseelie lands were south of my island, but given the several days the sun and moon had cycled, I began to wonder why the Unseelie island was kept so secretive.

My tutors had never divulged much—never saying how many days it would take to get to the island. Most teachings usually consisted of warnings to never make a deal with the king ruling the land.

If only my tutors were here to see the irony of their teachings.

Then there were the two pieces of information I knew of its landscape. One—it was large, very large. Two—it was surrounded by a thick mist.

Many said these islands were misted by Oberon as a way to protect the world from the evils of the Unseelie Court. Others said it was the Unseelie King himself, protecting his people from the world.

Whatever it was, few knew what lay beyond the mist and those who did, rarely spoke of it.

I had always wondered why the Seelie and Unseelie resided on different continents. A whole ocean lay between their lands with my and many other small islands scattered between them.

Once, when I was young and foolish, I had almost asked Oberon at our yearly visit. That was until my grandmother realized the question on my tongue and I’d been whisked away before I couldembarrass our family.

Every mortal and fae knew of Oberon’s distaste for the Unseelie King. So much so that to know or utter his name in Oberon’s presence was considered treason. Why Oberon allowed this king to live and enact chaos on behalf of the entirety of the fae court, never ceased to amaze me.

Perhaps it would be another secret that I would learn. Perhaps this would be my new life. Learning secrets of others. Keeping them locked up inside to use to my advantage.

Eventually the boat stopped its rocking, waking me from the sleep I had fallen into. Hesitantly, I pulled myself from the bunk and the room spun around me.

I really hate the sea.

The door slammed open, and an unfamiliar man ducked under the frame, standing before me. He offered me an unsettling grin with teeth bright and menacing, and moved forward to approach.

I scrambled back to the cot. “Get away!” I screeched.

The man stopped, cocking his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

His voice was thick, heavy, and completely without the airy accent the fae were known to have.

“I don’t know who you are sir, please leave,” I replied, voice shaking.

The man’s eyes gleamed and he glanced down at himself. “Don’t recognize me?”

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