Chapter 2 — Chapter 2

Present Day

“Baby, keep your eyes closed. It’ll be over soon,” whispered a soft, familiar voice.

I scrunched my eyes shut until they ached, forcing my chattering teeth to stay silent. Warm hands wrapped around my wrists, guiding them to my ears to muffle the screams echoing from above.

But then, those hands were torn away. My eyes snapped open, desperate to find the warmth that had vanished so violently. A wretched stench—rotting, like death itself—clogged my nose before my vision cleared.

A creature of shadow loomed before me, blending into the night. Its yellow, jagged teeth flashed, and a wave of suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.

I jolted awake, sweat-soaked sheets tangled in my fists. My hair clung to my face as I gasped for air.

*Not real. Just a dream.*

*Not. Real.*

But worse—a memory. That creature, those teeth, the hands I’d never feel again. My chest tightened at the thought, a hollow ache where comfort once lived.

“You are safe,” I whispered, a hot tear tracing down my cheek.

I sat up, fighting to slow my racing heart. The moon glowed fiercely, illuminating my tower chamber so brightly the last flickering candle on my nightstand seemed unnecessary. Dawn was only hours away. My fingers trembled as I gripped the small painting of my parents beside the candle. Their smiles radiated life, joy. A life stolen. Gone forever.

I exhaled shakily, snuffed the candle with a sharp breath, and slid out of bed. Placing the portrait gently back, I hurried to the open window.

From my high perch, the courtyard sprawled below—a lush garden and a path stretching toward the distant training yard, both eerily empty. Caer Thalorien, the warrior school as I called it, perched atop the Argyllian eastern cliffs. A fortress of stone buildings, encircled by a daunting wall and guarded by armored fae soldiers—arrogant but intimidating. Fae, a catch-all for magical beings, varied in form and power. Only the mightiest trained here, their immortal blood granting rapid healing, strength, and, for some, external magic. They brimmed with lust, greed, wrath, pride, and raw power.

No one entered or left without the High Fae overseers’ notice—overseers I’d never seen, thanks to Thalyn’s strict rules keeping me cloistered. Outsiders knew nothing of the numbers trained here, their methods, or origins. The soldiers stuck to rigid schedules, either resting in barracks or patrolling the wall, daring any threat to challenge The Fates.

Now was my chance to practice. I crept to the closet, easing the doors open to avoid noise, and pulled out an oversized tunic, linen pants needing a belt, and wool socks. Back at my bed, I shed my nightgown and dressed to melt into the night’s shadows.

Kneeling, I felt under the bed for a hidden crack. My fingers caught the loose plank, and I lifted it to retrieve a stashed belt. Four silver daggers gleamed in the moonlight as I buckled it on, a smirk tugging my lips. Far prettier on me than on that snoring ogre of a guard I’d swiped it from.

*A fair trade for his negligence, I’d say.*

I draped a hooded cloak over my shoulders and slipped into oversized leather boots—another gift from a careless watchman. Over eighteen years, I’d pilfered plenty: weapons, clothes, trinkets. Surrounded by elite fae warriors, I exploited their complacency. No one dared invade this fortress, so guards often slacked, dozing on duty. Their loss, my gain.

I checked the lock on my chamber door, then returned to the window. Peering down, I saw no movement below the balcony. The only other access on this side was a thousand-foot plunge into the Circadian waters, teeming with sirens eager for flesh. No guard bothered this flank; they’d be at the front gate or dreaming sweeter dreams than mine atop the wall.

I tucked my dark brown braid into my cloak, pulled the hood low to shadow my face, and opened a tiny jar of kitchen tar. Scooping a glob, I sealed it and pocketed it, then rubbed the sticky mess between my hands. Using my forearms, I dropped over the window ledge, feet dangling as I gripped the stone with tacky fingers. The strain burned in my knuckles as I descended the tower, a distant cough from a guard spiking my pulse. I landed with a soft thud on the balls of my feet.

Teeth grit against the night’s hush, I scanned around the tower. Clear. I darted into the courtyard, using overgrown hedges as cover, the damp earth’s scent mingling with the ocean’s salt on the breeze. Waves crashed against the cliffs as I reached the empty training yard.

I rinsed the tar from my hands in a nearby fountain, the cool water grounding me. Breathing easier, I grabbed a quiver of arrows and a bow, strapping them across my chest. My gaze fixed on the three-ringed target ahead. I nocked an arrow, shutting my eyes to let the ocean’s rhythm drown my restless thoughts. Exhaling, I opened them and loosed the shot. The arrow struck just shy of center—a near miss, but closer than last night. My grip tightened on the bow. *I won’t be helpless again, not like that night.* This, my self-preservation, was my defiance against a past I couldn’t escape.

Exhausted, I slumped against the fountain, the bow heavy in my hands, as the first light crept over the cliffs.

---

I woke with a throbbing head and burning eyes, sleep a distant memory.

“Vaelina! It’s time to get up! Breakfast is waiting!”

“Coming!” I groaned, rolling out of bed. Glancing down, I saw last night’s clothes still on me. “Damn it,” I muttered.

“What was that?” Thalyn, my nursemaid, snapped through the door.

“Nothing!” I shot back. That cursed fae hearing caught everything. Not ladylike to swear, she’d say. Nor to gesture rudely at warriors who muttered about my figure. But growing up an orphan among crude fae soldiers, what did they expect?

I tore off the clothes, shoving them deep into the laundry bin, and yanked open the closet. Grabbing the first dress I saw, I threw on the lavender fabric and smoothed my tangled hair as best I could. I flung the door open.

“Sorry, Thalyn, was just perfecting my ladylike yawn,” I quipped, feigning a stretch. She narrowed her brown eyes at my wrinkled dress, then up to my flushed cheeks and wild hair. I flashed a grin.

“Really, Vaelina? You look like you wrestled a griffin in your sleep,” she retorted, nose wrinkling at the teetering book stacks by my nightstand. “Perhaps if you weren’t lost in pages all night, you’d not look half-dead. Sit.” She jabbed a finger at the vanity chair.

I scurried over, sheepish. In the mirror, purple bags framed my bright green eyes, stark against my tawny skin and dark hair. Exhaustion be damned—I had to train more before leaving this fortress for good.

Thalyn cleared her throat, snapping me from my thoughts. “If you’re going to spin tales, weave them tighter than a siren’s net,” she said, grabbing the hairbrush. Her deft fingers—moving almost unnaturally fast—worked through the knots in my hair. I met her gaze in the mirror, her too-white teeth gleaming past red-stained lips in a sharp smile. I returned it, unsure if out of fondness or habit.

When she smiled, her fae nature shone—elongated canines giving her a feral edge, pointed ears and shimmering eyes both beautiful and unnerving. High Fae resembled humans most closely, with slender grace, but their strength, speed, and healing set them apart. Thalyn, though, was the nearest I had to family. Stern as stone, yet sometimes her touch softened, like now, as she brushed gently despite her sharp words. Beneath the ice, I sensed care—or hoped I did.

Most here ignored me, a ghost in these halls. Those who didn’t were fools who thought they could sneer about my body. Eighteen years taught me plenty of unladylike retorts for them. But fortress rules, per Thalyn, barred workers, instructors, and guards from speaking to me—to preserve my “progress” as a future wife. My grin faded.

Could I play the perfect bride for the alliance my aunt and uncle schemed over for a century? Or would all this be wasted?

I twisted the gold bracelet on my wrist, its gleam catching the sunlight. It wouldn’t budge—bound for my protection against magic. High Fae wielded multiple affinities, unlike other species, and as the sole human here amid elemental creatures, this bracelet was my shield. Thalyn called it a rare gift for a lucky few humans. Still, it stung that no one else needed such defense.

Just me. The *weak human*.

“There. Now you look the princess you’re meant to be,” Thalyn said, pinning my braid at my nape. “Hurry to breakfast. Lessons start soon. We’ve etiquette to polish before whispers of the Gambriel envoy grow louder.” She strode to the door.

I followed, staring at my slippered feet as we descended the endless tower stairs. I dragged my steps, dreading another day of lectures on my flaws and how to be the docile wife to the Crown Prince of Gambriel, soon to be king.