IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy

Gabrielle

Dressed in a pure white gown, perfect and whole, I stood before the man with those unsettling thick black bands over his face. One band cut across his eyes horizontally and the other ran down the side of his face vertically.

He stood watching me like a predator, his head angled slightly to the side.

I blinked. Amusement flickered in his gaze.

His blue eyes, bright and seemingly depthless against the stark black bands pierced right through me.

I couldn’t move. It was like my body had locked up under his scrutiny and I could almost feel him lurking in some distant corner of my mind.

His lips twisted into a wicked smile and I physically felt my blood run cold and drain away from my face.

Slowly, like an animal, he prowled closer, his movements smooth and lethal, like Coyne’s. Death rippled from him, and the earth shuddered underneath me.

“Wake up,” he said, his alluring deep voice cutting through my core.

A warm hand landed on my thigh, but the prince was not nearly close enough to be touching me.

“Wake!”

An order.

My eyes snapped open. Cold wind ripped at my exposed skin and something hard and rough pressed into my scarred back. The hoarse trunk of a tree. Someone must have pulled me into an upright position against it and I hissed in pain as chunks of bark scraped against shredded skin.

He was sitting a few feet away from me, perched on a rock, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his knees. Those electric blue eyes were bright against the stark darkness of the black bands, just like they were moments ago. I scanned my surroundings. What? How?

Fear, raw and concentrated surged through me. I never knew death had such a lovely face.

The dark prince studied me with intention. His scorching stare, the same as mere moments ago and I realized to my horror that he had been in my mind. Spoken to me from within in order to awaken me.

I felt filthy. Violated. Sick.

His lips tugged up, “oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

My eyes bulged, could he read my mind?

“Yes,” he purred, his grin turning feral.

A mixture of panic and dread slammed into my chest, Axel and the others, I needed to warn them.

“Don’t even bother,” he said.

That voice.

My stomach clenched.

It caressed something inside of me. “They would be dead before they even knew what had happened,” he continued, picking up a twig from the forest floor and toying with it in between his fingers.

“Please, please don’t hurt them,” I begged.

Unfazed by my pleading, he threw the twig away and stared at me again, “what are you?”

My brows pulled into a frown at his unexpected question.

“I-a wolf.”

“Nether fae don’t smell like you,” he said, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

I watched him as he took in my scent with carnal intent. I had no words; the man was strange, beautiful and utterly terrifying.

His eyes focused on me again, ran down the expanse of my broken body and back up to my face. I felt naked under his inspection. Dirty.

A sly smile and lazy blink the only signs that he was in my mind again.

I tried to push him out but didn’t know how to.

He chuckled, deep and rough. The sound again stirring the animal inside of me. Not my wolf. No, this was something else. Basic impulses. Drive. Instinct.

“You are different. Why?” He asked, angling his head again.

My mind jumped to the markings on my side, my wishes and my special gift. Locke’s grandmother. As soon as the thoughts entered my mind, I regretted it and cursed my weak human brain. The prince’s eyes glimmered.

“Very precious indeed,” he crooned, looking at my dress like he could see right through it to the burn marks underneath.

“I would give it to you!” I blurted, “I would give it to you if you promised to let them live.”

I didn’t need to specify who I meant, because their faces were already in my mind. The prince saw them. Locke, Axel, Jarryd, everyone that was probably on their way here already.

“Why would I negotiate to gain it if I could just take it?” He asked, his smile falling away and his face turning serious.

I swallowed. My throat hurt from lack of water and too much screaming and begging.

The prince’s eyes turned black for a few moments; a strange sort of mind-link I concluded.

One of the golden-plated high fae warriors with dark long hair and brown eyes dragged a squirming female into the clearing. She was crying and her hands and arms were covered in dry, crusted blood.

Molly.

Although a dirty black fabric was pulled over her head, I knew it was her. I recognised her floral, bright clothes and flowery scent.

My breath hitched; my stomach cramped. No, no, no!

“Yes,” he replied to my unspoken words.

My last wish, so powerful and precious. I was saving it for something big. Had been saving it for years.

“I am something big,” the sinful prince hummed.

“Please,” I begged again, stray tears running over my cheeks.

“Will you give me what I so deeply desire? Or should I force it out of you?” He asked leaning closer.

I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t decide what to do. How could I choose one life over another? Save the life of Molly only to forfeit the lives of my mate and his men. My friends. My packmates.

“Molly,” he purred, drawing my attention back to him.

Time. I needed more time. I needed to think.

The prince chuckled again. He was enjoying my suffering very much.

“Indeed, I am,” he mused, “take her away,” he said with a wave of his hand.

His eyes met with mine again as he said, “fuck her up, but keep her alive.”

Axel

“Here’s your plan,” Coyne said, handing me three written pages of scribblings, “give it to your king and meet me again in thirty minutes.”

A retaliation plan. Detailed and flawless.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jarryd asked, looking at the king.

Coyne gazed down at himself, still shirtless and said, “I have been covered in my own sweat for hours now. I need a shower and some clothes if we are going into battle.”

Indeed. The king had been in the jaws of withdrawal less than an hour ago.

“And I haven’t thanked the woman who had helped me regain my humanity yet,” he added as an afterthought. True. He had stepped over Pam like she was one of his servants, but on the other hand, she had been unconscious at the time, and he thought we were still under ambush.

Both of us nodded and the king left.

As we turned to head to King Gaute’s throne room, the lights in Lighthaven flickered and Locke flew across the royal garden, backwards, as if he had been thrown out by an invisible force. Sure enough, Gerek stepped out of the pristine glass doors and glared at his brother now sprawled over the bushes.

Jumoke followed close behind and swiftly scanned Locke for signs of serious injuries. He placed a hand on Gerek’s shoulder, a silent order to stand down, and turned towards us. Without saying a word, we moved closer and he stepped aside so we could enter.

It was quite clear that the royal family had been arguing again, judging by the red colouration around King Gaute’s grim face and the way his chest still heaved angrily.

“I hope you are not wasting my time,” he said by way of greeting.