Page 5 of Blackwarden
“If you wish to eat, you will present yourself here, in the dining room for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” He took a sip of wine before continuing. “You are not allowed to leave the Gatehouse. In fact, I assure you, if you try, you’ll find the doors quite immovable.”
I gripped the skirt of my work dress as I stiffened. I knew I would be a prisoner in some form, but having it confirmed made it real. All of this, the Gatehouse ripping the thoughts from my head, the memory of Renee’s anguished face, it was too much.
“You may go into any rooms you find unlocked. But if you force your way into any of the others, the Gatehouse will know.” A thick pause, emphasizing his next words. “Iwill know.”
He took a bite of his roast, chewing slowly before continuing.
“You are under no circumstances to wander around after the stroke of midnight.” He held my gaze for a long time, his jaw set in a stern line. “It’s important that you follow these rules, Ms. Greene.” He paused to punctuate his final point. “The Gatehouse is happy to provide for your every need, but if you disobey, it can just as easily take it all away.”
His words drew a shiver down my spine. I was still grappling with being completely surrounded by magic. The fact that a house was capable of providing for my desires seemed impossible. I squeezed my skirt harder, feeling the fibers stretch.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know before I show you to your suite?”
“My suite?” The words slipped out before I could temper them.
The Dark Fae tipped his head with a curious smirk. “Did you think you’d be treated like a prisoner?” He took another sip ofwine before setting the glass down between us, his long fingers lingering on the stem in a way that made my blood heat. “Ms. Greene, I assure you, you shall be a cherished addition.”
Cherished addition? But addition to what? The treaty with the Dark Fae, made centuries ago, was murky at best. Concessions the humans had made after the Fae Wars. The details had never been fully explained to the common folk, instead they had been shared between the members of the Council of Magistrates. I wanted to know more, but this did not seem like the right time. I tucked his words away to think on later.
“Who are you?” This was the question I’d been burning to ask. Who andwhat, really.
The smile that had brightened his expression slipped from his lips as they parted.
“I am the Gatekeeper.”
Did he truly mean for me not to know his name? His eyes couldn’t hold mine. He glanced down at his fingers intertwined in front of him. Did he hesitate to answer me?
“Do you have a name, or am I to call you Gatekeeper? Dark Stranger? Hey, you?”
He smirked at this last one.
“My name is Keres.”
“No family name?”
“It’s not important right now.”
Oh, it was important. If he wasn’t telling me, it was likelyveryimportant. He avoided eye contact, yet again.
“Is it true, Fae can’t lie?”
I’d wondered this my entire life. It seemed such a strange concept. As a human, my day was built on half-truths, and tiny lies. “How are you?” “I’m fine.” “How lovely.” “Tis indeed.” Clearly lies. Most people werenot“fine” or “lovely.” They were sad, or starving, or terrified.
He met my eyes, his brows curving with his frown and I straightened in my seat. Even with frustration clearly written across his face, he was gorgeous.
“Your human knowledge of the Fae is—”
“So, it’s wrong? Youcanlie?”
He tipped his chin up, transforming back into the terrifying Dark Fae who had greeted me at the front door, made of shadows and midnight. How could he change the way I saw him with the tiniest tilt of his head? I grabbed my glass of water, trying to ignore his glare.
“If I could lie, I might have greeted you with a different face.”
I almost spit the water out that I’d just gulped down. “A different what?”
Like a melting frost from the blades of grass, his horns seemed to shrink away, his ears rounded over. Familiar golden-brown hair lengthened around his face. Slender eyebrows thickened, his nose grew longer and more bulbous, his lips thinned, and his chin widened. The muscles in his neck and shoulders stretched, pressing against the fabric of his doublet as he filled out—muscular and bulky.
I was out of my seat in an instant. The man sitting across from me was Bastion. I tried to breathe but choked on a sob as I slammed my hands over my mouth. Bastion was dead.
