Page 13 of Memory of Ashes

Everything had happened so quickly. All she had to do was stay still and stay quiet and hope that Vesryn and the others would come and find her, if they weren’t dead already. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, a face peered at her through the thorns. Every thought of escape vanished.

“Found you,” the deep voice purred.

A man crouched beyond the thorns. His dark-rimmed blue eyes held her in place. His wavy, chin-length black hair shone even in the gathering darkness, and his features belonged on an ancient statue depicting the gods. He had the same furled ears as the others, but her attention fixed on the small antlers protruding from his head.

“Come out,” he ordered.

She hesitated, not wanting to leave the safety of the bush.

His eyes took on a dangerous gleam, changing from their deep blue to the sharp silver of a dagger.

“Before I cut you out,” he added.

It was no idle threat.

She crawled from beneath the thicket and stood at his feet, her hands clenched. He tilted his head, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Voices sounded from the direction of the road. Amelia turned towards them. The raven-haired man gripped the sides of her head, and a wave of pain flooded her mind, dragging her down into darkness.

Chapter 4

“It’s not safe for you to go exploring on your own without a team,” Emin said.

“I have done it plenty of times,” Amelia replied. “Sir,” she added as an afterthought.

The memory was still fresh. It wasn’t safe, but she rarely listened to good advice.

She sat up slowly. The world swam around her, then gradually the cell came into focus. The door and window were barred. She was a prisoner yet again, though this cell was far less comfortable.

She stood and wobbled towards the window, one hand against the wall to steady herself. Why did she feel so weak? What had he done to her?

The cell was high above the grey sea, where waves crashed against the cliff. She could taste the salt on her lips, taunting her thirst.

The door to her prison creaked open, and the tall, raven-haired fae strolled in. She instinctively retreated.

One corner of his mouth twitched. His expression sharpened.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“This is the Wildlands. You may find it a little… different from where you were before,” he replied, gesturing around the dim cell.

“What happened to the others? Did you kill them?”

He laughed.

“No, but they won’t be coming to help you. Now it’s my turn to ask the questions. Where did you come from?”

“You captured me. You should know,” she replied, a little testily, folding her arms so he could not see her fingers digging into her palms.

“You’re remarkably calm for someone who’s been taken prisoner,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Dark limbal rings sharpened the blue of his irises.

“You clearly need me alive, or I assume I’d already be dead.”

His eyes took on a dangerous gleam.

“Ah, a human with a brain. How unique. We can do this the hard way if you’d prefer. I’d certainly find it more entertaining.” He smirked. She recoiled, folding her arms across the skin exposed by her torn clothes.

His mouth twitched. He stepped closer until the musky scent of cedar overwhelmed her.