The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,43
extremely conceited, but Damon’s just being honest. “When my parents do get here, don’t be too hard on them for deceiving you. It’s not like they could’ve told you the truth.”
He’s not wrong. I would’ve thought they were insane if they tried to tell me about Valora.
As we get closer to the mountain, a dark crevice in the rock catches my attention. From far away, it looked like a shadow, but now I see it’s an entrance to a cave. There are boards nailed over it, surrounded by signs of warning.
I point. “What’s that place?”
“The Shadowlands,” Damon replies with the most serious tone I’ve ever heard him use. “Never go in there. Never.”
“Why?” An ominous chill makes the hair on the back of my neck stand. “What’s inside?”
“Nothing good. Everything bad and wrong and fucking frightening. Promise me.”
“I promise.” It’s an easy vow to make, and for once, I don’t press for more details. Just looking at the darkness makes me shiver with fear.
Suddenly, Torius throws up a hand as he halts in front of us. He’s another terrifying warrior. Raven hair. Heavily tattooed. Never smiles.
As our caravan comes to a stop, Damon tenses and draws his blade. Metal scrapes as the rest of the guys take out their weapons.
Confused, I glance around. The road leading into the mountains is vacant. Even the snow is undisturbed. As far as I can tell, there’s no visible threat, but maybe faeries can sense something I can’t.
Then I see them.
Men emerge from the thick trees up ahead. There must be at least twelve of them. They look rough, and not in a healthily-built-character kind of way. They’re dirty, their clothes are ripped and ragged, and their stringy overgrown mohawks hang in their faces.
“You’re a long way from home, gentlemen,” Damon projects with authority. “If you’re looking for food or drink, there’s a tavern just on the outskirts of Cassia.”
“It’s not ale we want,” one guy says, slicking his grimy blond hair back.
“We have nothing else to offer you.”
“Give us the women and any Glow you have, and we’ll let you leave with your heads.”
Lazily—downright nonchalant—Damon dismounts the horse, then reaches up to help me to the ground.
“Join the other women,” he says, low, ushering me toward the carriage. Which, as far as vehicles go, is fairly plain. Nothing about the gray exterior screams royalty. “Do not come out until I say it’s safe.”
“What?” I hiss quietly. “You’re not going to fight these guys, right? You’re outnumbered two to one. Don’t they know who you are?”
Damon gives a subtle shake of his head as he opens the door. “These men have never seen me before. We don’t have media here, so there’s no way for them to know what the kings of other realms look like.”
“Tell them. Maybe they’ll back down and you can avoid a conflict.”
“Not a chance.” He sends me a wicked grin before shutting me inside. Turning to the crowd, he spreads his arms, and his voice is muffled through the door when he asks, “Are we doing this with powers or without?”
The leader spits. “We don’t need magic to win this fight.”
“All right. No powers. Swear it.”
In unison, all the men trumpet, “I swear!”
Then chaos erupts along with a few battle cries.
Wings burst out.
Swords clash.
Blood sprays.
I shriek when a few red drops end up on the window, and I glance around at the other girls, looking at them like they’re insane. Astrid is clapping her hands and smiling while she watches the action. Quinn’s shaking her head like the men are naughty children. Isla looks bored as she studies her fingernails.
Is no one else scared shitless?
Squishing my nose against the glass, I barely smother a scream when three men charge Damon at the same time.
Damon
It’s been too long since I imposed my wrath on someone who definitely deserves it.
A thrill runs through me when I duck and narrowly miss an ax to the neck. I feel the air swish over my scalp as a few hairs get disturbed.
Twirling, I take out one of my attackers when my blade slashes across his gut. He bellows with pain as he falls to a nearby snowdrift, no doubt spilling his blood all over the white snow. He’ll heal, but for the next several minutes, he’ll be busy trying to keep his innards where they belong.
The other men give away their location with their grunts of exertion. I block a sword in front of me while