Page 21 of Ruthless Fae King

I clutched my head, my nails scraping against my scalp until it burned and ached.

How was her stay here? How did they fare looking after the people who volunteered to be saved?

If I went to her now, I could find out anything I wanted to know. I could take anything I wanted to have. That little warrior Rainier had sent along with them was nothing compared to me. She didn’t have enough power to fight me.

I was Erol, Falx’s right-hand man for centuries! I’d been chosen to give up the light because of my power. I could crush Zita like a bug, leaving Hazel wide open, and—

No. What did they all say? It’s a choice. It’s always a choice.

The voices in my head were all my own voice, the emotions in my chest all my own. They warred with each other and drove me crazy.

I walked to my bedroom door and locked myself in. I took the key and threw it out of the window. Tomorrow, servants would come to find me.

Would a locked door really stop me? I could run it down with ease, obliterate it with my power.

“Stop it,” I snarled at myself again and gritted my teeth. I balled my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. When the pain grounded me—even just a little—I realized that could work.

I walked to the wall and punched it as hard as I could. Pain shot into my arm, and my wrist ached like hell. It pushed away the turmoil in my mind, and although I writhed in pain, I welcomed it.

When I finally made it back to my bed, I was smarting. My hand hurt, my head throbbed dully, and I was exhausted. I felt like I’d fought a physical battle for hours. It would allow sleep to finally take me away.

Hazel popped into my mind again, despite the pain.

I decided to seek her out tomorrow. I wanted to see her, and to find out how things were going was a good excuse. Maybe, in the morning, I would finally be able to think straight and be one person alone in my body, rather than two halves of a whole who couldn’t agree with each other.

I wanted to fall asleep. I so desperately wanted to escape, to go somewhere else. It would be a nightmare, but it would be away from here.

Sleep didn’t come. Instead, movement in my room yanked me out of the calm, and my eyes shot open. Adrenaline pumped through my system, and I was wide awake.

“So, you think playing dress-up will make the facts go away?” a sensual female voice said.

It echoed all around me, and I jerked around, trying to see where it had come from.

The voice laughed. “Oh, Erol, you’re so naïve. For a man of more than three-hundred years, it’s pathetic.”

“Show yourself!” I shouted. “Or do you prefer to insult me from the shadows like a coward?”

“Oh, big words for a man at my mercy,” the voice said, but then a figure appeared before me. Black hair streamed down past her waist. She wore black robes, her long nails were painted black, and she wore black makeup—heavy around the eyes with dark lips.

“Cyrene,” I breathed.

“Oh, so you remember your goddess,” she said dryly. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

I shook my head. She came closer to me, one step at a time, although it looked like she floated, rather than walked. Black fog curled from underneath her dress, and her marble skin was so light, it showed blue veins beneath it. Fear preceded her. It pushed against me, wrapping itself around me, and squeezed like a snake that wanted to strangle the life out of me. I squirmed and struggled against it, but it wasn’t a physical thing I could fight, and the fear pushed into my throat like a thick, slimy eel. I fought to breathe around it, jerking and spasming.

Cyrene watched me struggle, her face amused. She circled me with her strange, floating gait, and I tried to keep my front to her. I didn’t trust her at my back. The fear paralyzed me, making it harder to move, to breathe, to think.

“What do you want from me?” I gasped in a strained voice.

“I want you to remember who you are…and who you are not. You pledged yourself to me, Erol. You gave up the light, and you turned to the darkness. You’ve served me well for centuries. Now, I learn that you’re done with me. Do you know what it’s like to have to hear from others that you’re not interested anymore?”

I pulled my lips back in a snarl. “We’re not in a relationship, Cyrene. This isn’t a matter of give and take. In fact, so far, it’s only been take, take, take.”

She laughed, and the sound of her voice was like glass shards against my skin. I cried out as it cut me, causing physical pain.

When I looked down, there was no blood. The skin wasn’t broken. It was all an illusion, like everything else was with the Dark Goddess. It was how so many Conjurites had been tricked into turning to the darkness—she knew how to make it look so attractive, like it would be a good thing.

Until it turned out it wasn’t.

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