Page 3 of Blackwarden
“Hurry,” the guard said, as he pulled me along. “I must see you into the Gatehouse before nightfall.”
I swallowed the fear that crept up my throat. This was just another step, another thing to conquer. If I was brave enough to take my sister’s place, then I needed to be brave enough to pass through these doors—even if I knew I would likely never step back out. The guard knocked three times, and with the third knock the doors creaked open, swinging inward with a torturous slowness to reveal a pitch-black hall beyond.
How had I gotten myself into this?
Why had I ever thought I was brave enough?
A cold numbness crept through my limbs as I waited for some sign of what to do next, or where I should go. Or if I’d be left in the Gatehouse alone until I was dragged to the Unseelie Court by some bloodthirsty monster made of nightmares.
From the far end of the hall, two braziers flared to life, their eerie warmth oozing through the darkness. Something stepped out of the murky depths, more braziers igniting as it approached. No matter how much light those braziers emitted, the figure remained cloaked in shadow.
I wrung my hands, trying to keep them from trembling, but it was useless. A deep fear settled in my marrow, it was all I could do not to turn and run. The guard rushed down the steps, eyes wild with fear, followed by the faintest scent of urine as he passed.
The closer the figure came the more it appeared to be a man. Tall and slender with strong shoulders. Dark hair hung messy around his head, but it was what was on his head that caught my breath in my throat. Two horns sloped back over pointed ears. Horns as black as the stone and glittering with high polish—demon horns.
Dark Fae.
I took a sharp breath, trying to keep my knees from collapsing. I had never thought I’d see one with my own eyes. His pale skin seemed to solidify from the shadows as he came to stand at the entrance of the Gatehouse. A long face framed by a sharp jaw drew my eyes down to the deep neckline of his finely embroidered doublet, unapologetically revealing a slice of toned chest.
The Fae kept themselves far from humans. The ties they had to the magic of the Earth Mother made them arrogant and self-centered. They isolated themselves in their courts which required magic portals to enter. I knew Fae could be beautiful, but I hadn’t been prepared forhowbeautiful.
Behind me, the driver of the carriage snapped the reins and sped away. I risked a glance over my shoulder in time to see it disappear into the forest. When I looked back, I found the Dark Fae waiting, his gorgeous face showing no emotion. He had a slender nose and angular, arched eyebrows that rested over almond-shaped eyes as black as his doublet. They watched me with an intensity that bordered on creepy.
“Welcome to the Gatehouse.” His voice was a song I’d never heard but had dreamt of all my life. It curled around me, pulling me forward as my gaze fell to his perfect lips.
He was gorgeous.
And truly terrifying.
He held out his hand, stretching elegant fingers toward me.
“Come,” he commanded.
The fear that had rooted my feet firmly in place released its grip, and I took one trembling step toward him. I wasn’t sure where my bravery had come from.
Was I meant to take his hand? I hesitated, while he continued to hold it out. I’d anticipated he’d be cold, like the dark shadows that seemed to cling to him, but instead his skin was warm and soft. He curled his slender fingers around mine possessively as he pulled me through the door.
For a second, I thought about yanking my hand away, to turn and run in the same direction the carriage had gone. Perhaps, I could get out of the forest, through the gate, and down the road to the last village we’d ridden through. Maybe I could get away. I could hide for a time, before making my way back to my village and to Renee.
No, I’d given myself in place of her. I had a purpose to fulfill. I was the sacrifice so she didn’t have to be.
It hadn’t completely sunk in yet that I had chosen to take Renee’s place—that I would stand at the entrance of a massive black mansion with my hand captured by a beautiful Dark Fae’s. I hadn’t known what I was truly volunteering to do, and as he pulled me further through the doors, I realized this was likely forever. I was never going home. I was never going to see my mother, father or sister again.Thiswas the choice I had made.
And my life was well and truly over.
Chapter 2 ~ The Gatehouse
Rosalin
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Fear and sorrow swirled around me in a horrible haze of silence as he led me down the massive main hall of the Gatehouse. Had my eyes not been affixed to my hand firmly clutched by his, I might have taken the time to look around. He didn’t look back, didn’t ask my name, and didn’t offer his own. Instead, I was left with a simmering dread squeezing my throat as shadows clung to him, creeping up his legs and snaking along my hand and arm. I flinched when braziers lining the walls burst into flames as we walked past. He must have noticed, because he tightened his grip on my hand, steadying my rising panic just enough to keep me from bolting in terror.
Thiswas my introduction to magic—my first brush with the shadows of the Dark Fae. The culmination of every frightening childhood story coming to life as I was led down the hall to my doom. Each time a brazier ignited I squeezed my eyes closed, desperately trying to keep from hyperventilating. This couldn’t be real, could it? But when I opened my eyes, it was all still there. The shadows, the self-lightingbraziers,him.
He guided me into a dimly lit dining room with a table that could easily seat a dozen people. Pulling out a chair for me, he then took the one directly across. I could see him more clearly here. His hair was...blue, the color of a midnight sky and lay in soft waves around his head. My fingers itched to sweep it back from his face. His eyes were black, threaded with silver that caught the light when he turned just right. There was a strange, almost violet cast to his alabaster skin, his lips a soft pink. He was truly flawless, his age impossible to discern. He could have been thirty. Or three hundred. Or three thousand, really.
“Are you hungry after your journey?” I startled at the sound of his calm voice.
