Eleven
ELIJAH WATCHED THElights go out in Janelle’s room, comforted at knowing she was safe enough behind a locked door while he was away from the palace.
She’s well protected, he thought, reassuring himself a few more times before leaving the palace gates with Liam at his side as his personal guard.
The city looked on edge as they walked the streets. The judgmental looks and wary faces made him feel unwelcomed, especially by the other magical residents in the town. It didn’t matter if he promised his people peace two years ago when he took the crown; he was still the villain in many of their eyes.
For years, Queen Cassia had brainwashed the Fae into hating humans, especially those with powers. That ideology wouldn’t simply vanish. Many of the village folk kept their distance from the magical beings to protect themselves, and they had a right to do so.
Elijah stepped into the tavern and spotted Annabelle at the bar. Her yellow wings were spread wide before she turned, eyeing the king at the doorway.
“Shit!” she screamed, bolting for the back door while the rest of the patrons watched. Elijah’s hands came out, releasing a wave of power that blasted through the tavern and toward the back. The rest of the drunken folk scurried out as his power latched onto her legs, yanking hard and plummeting her to the ground.
Elijah ambled her way, his black cloak flowing gracefully behind him. She tried to stand, but he gripped her hair, pulling her to her feet.
“It’s been a while, Annabelle,” he said. “I think it’s time we have a little chat.”
As he dragged the fairy out the back door of the now-empty tavern, she attempted to pull at his hair, but her struggling only amused him.
Annabelle was stunning, even when she was pissed off. Especially when she was pissed off. Her green eyes shone with ragged rage, her blue hair framing her peach-colored skin—a feisty, petite Fae with the curves of an hourglass.
She clawed at his face, fighting like a wild cat trapped in a snare. He rolled his eyes at her as if he cared enough to let her go. Elijah wouldn’t release her until she gave him what he wanted—he’d not back down or show mercy.
They rounded the corner of the bar and entered a dirty alleyway. Elijah pushed her face against the wall, holding her hands behind her back, trapping her wings down. The obscure corner would conceal his magic. If she didn’t scream, no one would see them.
“Come on now, Annabelle. You were a lot more willing the last time I was behind you.”
She turned her head, shooting him a sneer. “Last time, you cherished my body and took me to the peak.” She looked back to the wall, but he gripped her jaw from behind and turned her around. “I know why you’re here now, Your Highness.”
Of course, she does, Elijah thought. But how willingly will she cooperate, and how far will I have to go to make her if she doesn’t?
The fabric of her bodice was stretched to the point of tearing as her chest heaved, trying to wrench out of Elijah’s hold and fly away. She was strong for a fairy. Elijah’s magic slid from his fingers to gain more control of her.
She froze.
“Are you going to tell me what I need to know, or do I have to hurt you?” He gritted his teeth close to her neck, allowing his magic to encircle her, slowly forcing the air from her lungs. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Annabelle squealed, her skin turning dark red, like the color of wine.
When she opened her mouth to speak, he eased his power, giving her back the oxygen she needed.
She coughed a few times before saying, “I’m done with you, good-for-nothing. You’re cloaked in the pretend shroud of a king to confuse us, but you know what you really are?” she said through clenched teeth.
His face grew hard.
She continued as if purposely trying to provoke him. “A dimwit that challenges sensibilities. You shouldn’t be the king. You should be an errand boy, made to clean all the filth from here to the mountains until your body aches with the pain your lineage made me go through. You vile animal, piece of shit!”
His power slammed back into her, choking out the very breath she cursed him with.
Annabelle’s hands latched onto the black smoke around her neck, trying to free herself. Her wings came up, fluttering wildly to escape. However, her still body followed Elijah as he stepped even closer until their chests touched. He leaned in, removing his power, and placed his forearm against her collar bone. She couldn’t match his strength, which was more than enough for the moment.
“You have quite a filthy mouth on you,” he said. “Let’s use that nasty little tongue of yours and tell me about Janelle.” He smiled. “You helped her get inside my palace, didn’t you?”
Annabelle pushed back against his arm, but her wings started slowing down.
There was a degree of disappointment in him. He quite enjoyed the little fairy’s fight.
“Shh!” Elijah whispered into her ear, brushing her blue hair behind her ear lobe. Her sparkling green eyes dimmed slightly but still looked like two perfect emeralds shining in the sunlight.
The fire and energy written in them were truly unique and what drew him to her when they first met.
She was trapped against the wall that time, instead of between his body and the sheets. He reminded himself that Annabelle became his enemy once he pieced together her connection to the assassin.
Annabelle lifted her hand, trying to slap him, but he caught her wrist, then took his other hand and slammed her aggressively against the wall again, even harder.
Anger built up inside his chest so strongly that he could no longer contain the dark beast that writhed in his soul.
“Now, Annabelle,” he said, his eyes turning black. “Tell me what I need to know.”