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Chapter One
Scarlet
Not Where I Was Before
The first thing I am aware of when I wake up is that I have no recollection of this place. I have never been here before. I have no memory of how I got here but I do have the feeling of being in danger. There is no way to explain why I would feel this way, but I know in my heart that it is the truth. I can feel it all the way down to my very being. A darkness clings to the air around me.
Instead of letting the panic envelop me, I take a deep breath and scan my surroundings. I am laid on a large bed with a dark-stained four-poster frame. The bedding is as white as fresh snow and soft to the touch. The room is massive but only sparsely decorated. There is a dark wooden bookshelf with what looks to be novels stacked on it haphazardly, a large desk, and a single dark leather couch.
It’s quite a beautiful, gilded cage.
Standing from the bed I try to figure out how I will escape from the room. If I were invited here, I would remember it so I must have been taken. The last thing I remember is arguing with my mother. I try to remember what the argument was about, but I simply cannot draw the memory forth.
I inspect the sturdy wooden door when I reach it but find it locked, which is exactly what I was expecting. Then I move over to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. They too are locked, and I can see thick iron bars on the outside of the glass.
I grab the window frame and rattle it, trying to get the lock to pop loose, to no avail, not that it would matter. When I finally stop trying to get the lock to give, I stare out through the glass. I am far from any city, that much is clear. There are nothing but trees and rolling hills as far as the eye can see. Even if I can open the lock on the windows, I won’t be able to go anywhere. If my guess is correct, I am more than two stories up.
Even though I swore I wouldn’t, I can feel the panic slowly creeping up my throat. I feel it wrap around me and steal all logic from my mind. The coldness of my pretty prison starts to seep into my bones, a shiver coursing through my body. I need to get the hell out of here before whoever took me returns. It’s at that moment I hear the lock in the door turn.
Turning, I see a man enter the room. He has long raven hair, a closely cropped beard, and strong features. He wears an impeccably tailored slate-grey suit with a crisp white shirt with dark swirls of ink peeking out beneath the fabric. He locks the door again once inside before he turns his attention to me.
I’ve seen this man before. Visions of him have assaulted me for the past six months. His features are burned into my brain. I can tell you everything about him, from the color of his eyes to the tattoos on his back. He may be clothed at this moment but I have had visions of him shirtless, and sweaty while exercising.
“Scarlet,” he says in a deep timbre, his voice somehow soothing my frayed nerves and pissing me off all at once.
“It’s nice that you know my name,” I cut in, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
It’s my default setting and even though fear pounds through my veins I can’t seem to control my big mouth. I think one thing and yet only derision and ridicule fall from my lips when I try to speak.
I receive no reply as he continues to stare at me. It feels as though he is assessing me, looking for something, but I’m not quite sure what. The moment stretches out for what feels like an eternity as I try not to fidget, my anger simmering in the background.
“My name is Kyson,” he finally says.
“That’s great, Ky,” I interject yet again, sneering at him. “But that doesn’t explain where I am and why you kidnapped me.”
Kyson mumbles something incoherent before clearing his throat. “My name is Kyson, not Ky. And you are here because this is where you need to be. Where you are meant to be.”
Throwing my hands up in the air, I pace the length of my opulent cage shooting daggers at him with my gaze. My bare feet slap loudly on the tiled floor.
“That means absolutely nothing to me!” I want to smack him. “Just tell me what is going on.”
“You are here because the Oracle said you are my consort.”
Stopping dead in my tracks, I glare at the man in front of me. How can someone so pretty possibly be so stupid?
“Not one single word you just said makes a lick of sense to me!” I yell.
“There is a lot you don’t know but once you do, everything will make sense.” His calmness has irrational irritation flashing through me.
“Let me explain something to you,” I huff, placing my hands on my hips. “I don’t care about anything you have to say. I’m not interested in finding out about you, your Oracle, or being a consort, whatever the fuck that is. I want to leave,” I huff.
In the blink of an eye, I find myself pressed against the wall, caged in by muscular arms. Kyson is looming over me, displeasure flashing in his gaze.
“Watch your mouth,” he says lowly. “I won’t stand to hear you speaking like some street whore.”
“And I don’t give a—”
I’m cut off by Kyson covering my mouth with his hand. I have the insane urge to bite him but keep myself in check. He stares at me before a smirk tugs at his lips. I know I’m not going to like whatever he says or does next.
