Bride of the Traitor (The Prophecy of Sisters #1) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,29
there will be no chance of her reuniting with her sisters and fulfilling the prophecy.”
I can’t suppress the shiver that skates over my entire body at the thought of being locked down inside of that dark, dank dungeon where I woke up just days ago. If it was up to me, I’d never go back there, again. Running, even in this tight dress and these flimsy shoes is beginning to look appealing again.
“Everybody out,” Elias shouts. I stand to my feet, his eyes cut to me and he narrows his gaze. “Except you,” he growls. “Take the witches to chambers, get them a bath and make sure they are properly fed. We will convene in the evening,” he orders.
The room quickly empties and I stay rooted in my place as he walks over to the door. He fiddles with it and I assume he’s locking it so that nobody will bother us. I’m not sure what he wants to do, but I’m reeling from the witches’ words.
A different world.
A different fucking world.
I begin to tremble as their words settle inside of me, as they sink into my head. Elias stands in front of me, but I notice that it’s too far away to actually hold me, and it hurts, deeply. Though I know that it shouldn’t, he probably thinks I’m some kind of freak and I feel like one.
A different world.
There is a rumble of thunder, then I see a flash of lightning from the corner of my eye. It happens again, then again. In fact, the faster my heart beats, the more often the thunder rolls and lightning strikes.
“You look ill, Sybilla,” he says, his voice husky and so damn sexy that it should be illegal.
Lifting my gaze to meet his, I blink at the scar across his eye. “How did you get that scar?” I demand.
His head rears back, obviously surprised by my question. “I was in battle, about twenty-five years old. A man was coming up my rear, I turned around to defend myself and the coward brought down his dagger, almost taking my eye out,” he explains.
“Battle. Like for real. This isn’t cosplay, is it?” I ask, my entire body trembling, rain starts to pour outside, it’s almost deafening as it pounds against the roof and walls of the building.
The realization slams into me. I was just toying with the idea that he was a real warrior, but I didn’t really think that he was, not like this.
“Sybilla, I know not of the word you speak. But, yes, the battle was very real and the coward was planning on putting his knife in my back to end me right then and there.”
I lift my hand to my lips, trying not to laugh, but it bubbles out as I stare at him. “It’s not funny, I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “No, ‘tis not funny, though when I cut off his head, I laughed a bit, I will admit. However, this is obviously a surprising blow and sometimes we cannot control our reactions.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “We don’t have witches, we don’t have prophecies, we don’t have any of this in my world. How did I get here? What is happening?” I ask as I sway.
Elias reaches forward, his fingers wrapping around my biceps to keep me upright. He shakes me slightly, his steel-blue eyes turning indigo right before my own gaze. We don’t have eyes that change color like that either, but I don’t say that aloud. I love the way his eyes change.
“We will find out more, Sybilla. You must not fret,” he murmurs.
“Are you going to lock me in your dungeon?” I ask.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes searching mine. “The witches assure me that what we have is not brought on by witchcraft. At least not any that you possess, since you apparently possess none in this moment,” he explains. “So, in other words, no I will not be locking you in the dungeon as I’ve grown rather fond of you over the past few days.”
Elias’ lips tip up into a small grin. My face heats and I know that my cheeks are turning pink at the meaning of his words. “So, I’ll be what? Your mistress?” I ask on a whisper.
His indigo eyes turn black, almost immediately and he shakes his head in one quick motion. His jaw clenches and I watch as a muscle jumps in his cheek, obviously in anger at my question.