Page 143 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody
Instead of that, I shifted into one of the worst monsters and tried to betray Rhianelle. I remember the horror in Red’s eyes when I morphed into Wendy in front of him to look at the knight’s stalker.
That was a partial shift.
I revealed the Fallen’s full feature to little fawn earlier. I can’t seem to wash that last look on her face out of my mind. What was it? Fear? Disappointment?
I didn’t mean to show myself,Wendy whispers over at the dark corner of my heart.Have we truly lost the girl?
I don’t fucking know.
Probably.
But even at my worst, Rhianelle did not use the Rhunhraefn to subdue me. She doesn’t have to. Her powers had far surpassed Lilith’s and her vile curse.
I’ve been a bastard to her from the start. She kept throwing me a line and I had refused it every time.
I want to hammer my head to a wall over and over. There are so many things I do not know of Rhianelle and her past. Now I may never get the chance to understand her. The guilt threatens to swallow me with every passing second.
I thought I had a perfect clarity of what pain is after years of torture. Lilith once burned me alive, flogged and whip me until my spine broke. Hell, she once poured melted silver down my throat to seal my mouth shut. But all those sufferings seem almost nothing compared to the pain reigning over me at this moment.
The air rattles with chaotic screaming, turmoil, and the sound of life leaving one’s body. I let my mind drift some place dark and quiet until the upheaval soon shifts into a celebration.
The elves have won the fortress.
Whatever comes next is something that always arrives after a conquest.
Plunder.
The sound of heavy footsteps carries to my ears. I lift my head to the commotion. Five armed elves are rounding up against one dwarf.
“Where do you hide the gold?” one of the hired swords asks, his features hidden underneath his cowl.
“I have none! I’m a prisoner here,” the dwarf exclaims desperately.
The creature bears little resemblance to the diminutive beings described in human fairytales. Shorter than humans, yes. But whatever the dwarf lacks in height, he makes for in breadth. Most of his ginger hair is hidden beneath his work cap. He appears like someone well into his fifties if he is human, though his face is not harshly wrinkled, covered mostly by a thick beard the same color as his hair.
“Liar!” One of the elves seethes, and they start kicking their victim to the ground. The unfair fight is an ugly thing to watch. They somehow herd the creature into my cage.
“You give me that gold, you little—” The words vanish from the mercenary’s throat when he sees me in the dark corner.
All five of them become as pale as a ghost. The sight of my cloaked figure, with metals, weapons jutting all over my body will bring them nightmares for years to come.
Good.
My presence deters them from going an inch further. One of them locks the door and turns to the dwarf. “We’ll get you later.”
I raise my brows at their promise of return. I guess these mercenaries value gold more than their lives. Silence ensues over their departure.
“There must be something really bad behind me for those guys to take flight,” the dwarf mutters a nervous joke as he turns around.
Horror creeps into his features, accompanied by the quickening of his pulse the moment our eyes lock.
To my surprise, the fear does not last long.
“What the hell happened to you?” His chest heaves with several deep breaths before he scoots closer to me.
I don’t answer him.
“Do you need help, son?” he asks earnestly.
