Page 33 of Wolf Caged
Any male would probably trigger the same pounding, relentless need in me right now.
I would probably pounce on one of the gaunt skin-and-bones servants that brought me my food if I had the opportunity to scratch this itch building within me.
Neve stared at me, the weight of her gaze demanding I look at her, and it took only the briefest glance in her direction to catch the concern in her eyes as she watched me.
She knew.
I wanted to bury my head back in my knees.
Could this moment get any worse?
“I have a proposition,” Kaeleron said, proving that it could.
Proposition.
That rang through my mind, sounding dirty and alluring.
I shook my head, dislodging it. Propositions could be innocent.
He unrolled a piece of parchment and turned it towards me. “Sign this, agreeing to my terms, and I will allow you to leave this cell.”
That didn’t sound so innocent.
Not when the corners of his profane lips were curling in that wicked way of his.
I rose to my feet and crossed the cell, slowly approaching him and the contract he was offering, several thoughts hitting me at once. One, he owned me, so technically I had to do whatever he wanted, like his servants and his other concubines probably did. So why offer me a contract at all? Two, gaining my freedom from this cell meant I was one step closer to finding a way back to my world and to my vengeance.
Three, the lettering on the parchment was precise and neat, and crimson, as if it had been written in blood.
Four, I couldn’t understand the elegant marks that I presumed were words.
Except I had to scratch off that last one because as I neared the scroll, the lines of the symbols shifted and suddenly I was reading English.
I looked up at the fae king towering before me, his expression neutral now, almost bored as he waited, as if he didn’t give a damn whether I signed the contract or not and had better things to do.
“How can I read this?” I frowned and searched his eyes, and then added, “Come to think of it, how can I understand you? You’re speaking English, right?”
He cocked an eyebrow at that, an amused twist to his lips. “I can, but I am not.”
“He speaks the fae tongue.” The closeness of Neve’s voice startled me and I looked to my right, where she now stood close to the bars, peering at the paper Kaeleron offered as if she was trying to read it. “This… infernal contract is written in the same language.”
The fae king turned his arched brow on the dragon. “The contract is fair and more than the female deserves.”
I was inclined to agree with him on the latter point, but I would be the judge of whether it was fair or not.
Once I discovered something.
“And how is it I can understand both your spoken and written words?” My gaze snagged on the top line and my name there, so close to his. He knew my name. I looked at Neve, sure she had been the one to give it to him.
“Magic,” Neve offered.
I looked at the king.
“Magic,” he echoed. “An easy enough spell to cast and maintain.”
“Why even bother letting me understand you… or this?” My role in this castle could have been fulfilled without me knowing their language. I didn’t need to be able to understand him, or his sister, or Neve in order to warm his bed whenever he was bored. “I mean, unless you bought me for my stunning conversational skills.”
His smirk widened just a little, as if he enjoyed my sniping at him. “As I have told you. I am not a monster.”
