A Token's Worth (Spawn of Darkness Book 1) Page 5

  “And I can only see those thoughts when I touch you, but that process is uncomfortable. For you. It’s very invasive and not something I do unless I must. So, no, I don’t know much, which is frustrating for us all. And I couldn’t access your dreams while you were under Kal’s mental control.”

  One up side to being put to sleep for two weeks like Snow fucking White, because some of my dreams are a bit out there. Not gonna lie.

  “Wait, so you were trying to listen into my dreams while I was asleep?”

  He nods, stepping closer to me, eyes tracing my wayward locks then back to my face. “I tried. We weren’t sure what we were dealing with, still aren’t, and we needed some traction.”

  “You couldn’t just get Kal to wake me from my fucking coma?”

  He shakes his head. “You needed the rest. Your body was broken, and obviously your mind needed the break too.”

  That’s just a nice way of saying I’m a crazy bitch.

  Okay, so he heard that and he’s frowning at me. A-fucking-gain. “Stop frowning! It makes me feel uncomfortable. And no, I’m not forthcoming. I’ve essentially been on my own since I was four, so I’ve never had someone to rely on, and I have no concept of trust. That’s not saying I’m untrustworthy, I think I’m very trustworthy.” I nod, to emphasise my point. “I’ve just never trusted anyone else. Why the fuck would I when everyone has a goddamn agenda?” I’m rambling. Great. I do that when I’m nervous. Sharing personal shit makes me nervous.

  He smiles. “I enjoy your rambling.”

  I roll my eyes … again. I can’t help it around these bastards.

  He lets out a huff of breath, pursing his lips. “If you roll your eyes at me once more, I’ll find a way to punish you. And believe me, you will like it.”

  Well, fuck me. That was hot.

  “Only when you beg for it, mortal.”

  He reaches forward but I hold up a hand, halting his progress. “If you do that ‘white light’ thing again, I may actually consider roasting your balls for breakfast. Can’t you just fly us there with your man wings? Where are they, anyway?” I take a peek behind his back. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, pretty Aero wings!”

  I frown when nothing happens. They can’t play hide and go seek forever …

  He throws me a shit eating smirk before he snatches my arm and we’re whisked off in a flash of, you guessed it, white fucking light.

  Bastard. Maybe he has really small wings, and he’s embarrassed about their tiny little feathers.

  Chapter Six

  Thousands of cylindrical towers, one of which we’re perched on top of, rise to varying heights from the glistening turquoise ocean surrounding the city. Made from some kind of shimmering rock, the towers glow in an array of delicate colours; every shade of rose, peach, and pink imaginable. Between the towers are arched bridges hewn from the same materials.

  The palace rules from the centre of the city. Rising higher than any other structure, it’s made up of many towers, architecturally joined and bathed in its own glowing aura. The city looks like a fucking sunrise, the palace its sun.

  I’ve heard stories about the Dawn Kingdom, as I have the other High Kingdoms, but they can only be accessed if you have wings. Which I don’t, because I’m not High Fae. Just your common Lesser Fae with no wings and therefore, no immortality. Yawn. Some super cute, delicately tipped ears, yes, and a certain lithe beauty that’s always garnered me the wrong sort of attention, but no wings.

  Nope, I’m super normal, y’all.

  Though I’m yet to see any of the marvellous fucking Sun Gods sprout their wings. For all I know they might be teensy.

  But this place is teeming with High Fae, both men and women, all flying around doing their thing. Whatever that is. Wait, did I say women? Strange … now I’m seeing things? Lovely. Seems I’ve hitched a first-class ticket on the crazy boat, after all.

  A man floats past us with a smile on his face, nodding to Aero in an obvious sign of respect before he propels himself past, grey wings pumping at the air and looking positively phenomenal at such close range.

  The last time I saw a pair of High Fae wings so close was when King Sterling visited the precinct, to show his power and maintain law and order over us pitiful females. One of his guards came into our establishment, parading his wings about. They were spectacular—the feathers deep red with glistening black undertones to match his fiery hair.

  I stared in awe. We all did. But then he picked me, bound me so tightly that my wrists bled while he fucked me in every orifice available until I finally passed out, which he beat me for when I came to. When he’d finished, he inserted one of his feathers deep inside me. Something to remember him by. Fucker. Once the High Fae guard was done Kroe wreaked his fury on me too, humiliated that I’d ‘slept’ on the job … and with a High Fae! In other words, don’t fuck up again, Cupcake.

  I kept that feather as a reminder to never trust a High Fae. Or a male.

  The arms around me clamp tighter as Aero inches towards the sheer drop at the edge of the building. I’m excited about the fall, can feel my heart pounding like a …

  We fall. I think I’m screaming but I’m not. I’m laughing as the sea rushes to meet us. When we’re barely metres from the surface, Aero’s motherfucking wings manifest, and I swear to god my vagina rubs her eyes in astonishment, because they are massive.

  They scoop at the air, pushing us out across the water, so low I can smell the salty tang. We swoop in an arc and the city rises before us, then we’re in it, twisting and turning around and between the glistening, granite towers.

  But his wings! I can’t stop looking at them as my curls whip at my face. The same colour as his hair, they ply the air with the sunlight catching them, blending and shifting the rich auburn tones into hues of rose, orange, yellow, and even pink. I love them. I want to touch them. Maybe even give them a little sniff while he’s sleeping.

  We glide towards a spacious, rose coloured balcony, one of many adorning the ample towers, and we land with a gentle thump. I reach out to touch the feathers as those glorious wings come to rest in front of us, encompassing us.

  “Don’t. It’s not a good idea to touch my wings right now,” he growls.

  I tug my hand back, pouting. Where’s the calm Sun God of ten minutes ago? Squirming from his arms, I spin to face him, but he turns from me, his wings puckering behind his back. He perches on the edge of the balcony, face turned away.

  “I have business to attend. This tower is yours, use it however you see fit. Gail’s inside, she’ll be your attendee while you’re here. Don’t be afraid to ask of her whatever you desire.” He pauses before continuing. “Don’t jump off the balcony. You’ll survive the drop but not the serpents that dwell in the surrounding waters.”

  And then he’s gone, throwing himself off the side of the tower and into the nether regions. I’m stumbling towards the edge before I can catch myself, because I really do want to touch those fucking wings, but heed his warning, halting just shy of the fall. I imagine he’s right … death by mysterious sea serpent monster would not be a nice way to go.

  I’m blasted with a rush of air as he swoops past, the tip of his wing coming to within inches of my face. I reel back, away from the edge, landing with a thump on my arse, no doubt his intention. I stare, mesmerised by the sheer size of his wings, the power as they pump, feathers rippling in the wind, taking him across the sea. I watch until he’s nothing but a dot in the distance.

  Moody High Fae God. Anyway … nothing teensy about those wings.

  Turning, I take in the beautiful craftsmanship, noticing the intricate swirls and patterns carved into the surface of the entire building. Somebody’s probably spent decades decorating it, maybe longer.

  I walk inside, through the doorway three times my height, and stop, gazing in awe at the lavish furnishings. Everything is crafted from the same rose-coloured rock the tower is built from, the soft furnishings all lush and white.

  Looks uncomfort
able. Especially that day bed over there … all that shiny rock. Wrong! I stretch out like a fucking queen, even though we don’t have a queen, but that’s not my point. I’m totally channelling my inner queen right now. I close my eyes, content to stay right the fuck here, on this daybed, for the rest of my life.

  “Ahem.”

  I jolt upright. A woman stands before me, her orange hair arranged in a bun, tailored white dress accentuating her curves. No sign of any wings, though she must have them to live in the Dawn Kingdom. I’m not surprised they’re tucked away—they’d be a pain in the arse indoors, knocking expensive shit over and such.

  “Sorry … it’s been a big … couple of weeks, I guess.”

  “Yes.” She smiles, studying me with eyes the colour of honey. I wonder how much she knows. “I’m Gail. I’m here to help you with anything you need. Milord had several requests for your comfort, one being that you receive little interruption. So, I’ll show you about then make myself scarce. There’s a bell on the wall of each room you can tug whenever you need me.”

  “Ok.” I nod, overwhelmed, a feeling which only increases when Gail shows me around my new Dawn ‘home’. I have my own level for every goddamn room! My area stops halfway down the tower, which is apparently where Gail hangs out, prepares food and what not. Probably entertains nobles with her sexy melodic voice, before they feed on her pristine, High Fae vagina.

  The ceiling to each room is high, like, three stories high, and a staircase spirals up the centre of the entire tower. I’m going to be so fucking fit. I’m guessing the winged ones use the vast balconies to get around, flapping about the place from one level to the next. Minus wings and eyeing the colossal staircase, I decide on one main level to settle myself into.

  The bedroom has a small table for dining and a bathroom chamber too—everything I need. It’s the highest, so it has a solid roof, which I compensate for by opening every door and window in the tower, despite the chill. I hate enclosed spaces. Gail doesn’t question my strange actions, instead quietly helping me with the task before excusing herself politely.

  Even with the windows open, however, I’m drawn to the balcony. I sit on it for hours, admiring the view, legs swinging over the edge until the sun begins to set … and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. The kaleidoscope of colours match the city’s scape so perfectly, blending with and highlighting the buildings surrounding the palace as the sun gently sinks below the horizon.

  If this is dusk, then dawn must be spectacular in this kingdom. A tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away. Where the fuck did that come from? I never cry.

  Eventually the sun disappears and the air becomes cool. I peel myself off the ledge and wander inside, eyeing the enormous four-poster bed. Frowning, I give the mattress a push. It feels like you’d imagine it would, all puffy and soft and warm and … Fuck that. I don’t deserve to sleep on top of a cloud when the girls at home are sleeping with dirty old men between their legs, or on a bed shared with seven other whores and nothing more than a filthy, torn blanket to keep them warm and a single pillow to share between them all.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  And I’m not ringing that shitty golden bell on the wall to call upon my ‘woman servant’, even though my stomach’s rumbling loud enough to wake a sleeping schlong.

  It doesn’t feel right. None of it feels right.

  I drag a small rug onto the balcony, away from the edge, because I’m smart like that, and curl up on top of it. I shiver, missing the warmth of the girls along my spine and front. It’s a sisterhood that I can’t explain, a belonging to someone, something. And though this place is fancy as fuck, it isn’t home. Not without my girls.

  There’s something about the depth of the night that brings out the monsters. The worry monster, the guilt monster, the fucking homesick monster. I clench my fists and curl harder into myself, try to tell myself they’ll be gone in the morning.

  Problem is, my monsters really do exist, and I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my gut that I’ll never truly escape them.

  Chapter Seven

  Have you ever woken in the middle of the night and had no idea where you are? Yeah, it sucks. Even worse when you also have a big feathery man god hovering over you with a scowl on his face.

  “Really? You fell asleep on the balcony?” Aero hisses, plucking me from the ground and placing me on my feet.

  Oh, right. Dawn kingdom. Sexy High Fae God who left me here in a tower in the middle of the fucking ocean then took off in a huff. Winning at life.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” Technically not a lie, considering it took me a while to actually get to sleep. It then occurs to me that Aero can read my thoughts, and he’s now looking at me like I’m lying, which I kind of am. I roll my eyes, then catch myself as his eyes widen, and I remember his threat to douse me in pleasure filled pain if I rolled my eyes one more time.

  “I’m keeping a tally, Dell, for when you’re ready. And you already owe me one. By all means though, keep it up.”

  Yikes. I shuffle back a step, much to my vaginas dismay. I may seem all sexually astute, but my sexual maturity lies entirely around being a courtesan, not a normal fucking person with normal fucking feelings having normal fucking sex. I’m not sure that’s even a thing. And if it is a thing, I’m not sure I’d get off on normal fucking sex. What even is normal? Would I know it if it slapped me in the face with a slippery cock? Except it probably wouldn’t be a slap … more of a slide or a gentle prod. And what would I do with it then? What would I actually do with sex if I was offered it rather than forced the fuck into it?

  Aero clears his throat. “Dell, please, rein your thoughts in, for the love of dawn.”

  I feel my cheeks heat. “Sorry.” Fucking mind vomit.

  He places a hand on the small of my back and steers me inside, now lit with hanging Fae lights. Pretty.

  “Did you even try it?” Eyebrows raised, he motions towards the bed, still meticulously made.

  “I like to sleep under the stars.” Not a lie.

  He shakes his head and sighs. “I’d like you to get changed, then I want you to come with me. I have something I need your help with.”

  I notice his brown leather pants are speckled with something dark, as is the cream tunic he’s wearing. It’s undone down the front and there are beads of something on his chest. I swipe my finger along one, smearing the ruby substance across his smooth honey skin and the pad of my finger.

  Blood. Fuck.

  “What the hell, Aero?” I take a step back and study him anew.

  He struts past me, towards the dresser perched against one of the walls. Opening a drawer, he tugs out brown leather pants and a linen top to match his own attire. He hands them to me. “Get dressed. I’ll wait on the balcony.”

  Snappy Aero. This is new. Not sure I want to go anywhere with snappy Aero. “Where the fuck are we going?”

  “I’m not in the mood for questions, Dell. Just get dressed. Or stay here and miss out. Your choice.” He storms outside.

  This man.

  After considering for a second, weighing my chances that I’m about to be either raped or slaughtered, and convincing myself it’s unlikely, I jump into action. I better not be fucking wrong, then die for being nosey.

  Once dressed I walk outside into the brisk air. Aero’s standing with his back to me, but the moment I step onto the balcony, he spins around, throws his wings out, wraps me in his arms and hurtles himself backwards.

  I gasp as the rush of cool air hits my lungs, but we don’t fall far before he spreads his wings and we dip steadily towards the water. It crosses my mind that he’s about to throw me to those mysterious fucking sea serpents, but instead we align onto a balcony almost at sea level, at the base of one of the palace towers. He puts me down and I stumble back a few steps, towards the slashing ocean ... away from the gloomy entrance.

  “Where are we?” I sniff the air, my every sense on high alert. The stench of death surrounds me.

  “The du
ngeon,” Aero states as an orb before us is ignited to illuminate a small portion of the cavern.

  “What the fuck are we doing in the dungeon?” Does he want to lock me up? Or is this part of a deviant sexual role play plan he has?

  “No. And best not to put ideas in my head, mortal. It’s fucked up enough already.” He leads the way down a winding staircase that’s scarcely illuminated.

  “Duly noted.” I follow him, because the mouth of this cavern is so close to the water that I’m not convinced one of said sea serpents can’t reach in and snap up an unsuspecting Lesser Fae female.

  We descend the stairs for what feels like hours, finally arriving at another large cavern, illuminated by more glowing orbs. There are tunnels at regular intervals along the outside wall, branching off. It’s down one of those tunnels that Aero leads me. We walk past numerous closed iron doors on either side which are faintly lit by smaller orbs.

  “How much farther?” I ask. My emotions are starting to overwhelm me … I fucking hate cells. Or small enclosed spaces. I may be used to them, but that’s not by choice.

  “Not far.” He reaches back to take my hand, which I surprise myself by taking—my small pale one getting lost in his grasp.

  “Seriously though, you’re not going to lock me up down here, right?”

  “I would never lock you up, mortal. You’re safe with me.”

  If only that were true. I’m not safe with anyone, not even myself.

  A few minutes later we come to a door at the end of the tunnel, which Aero produces a small, rusty key for. Hmm … I watch him wiggle it into the hole.

  Small tool. Disappointing.

  He clears his throat as the door creaks and groans. Aero pushes it open to reveal … not fucking much. It’s too dark to see anything. But I can hear muffled breathing, from more than one person. He tugs me forward a few steps. The ground’s smooth beneath my feet, slick with something …

  The room comes to light, illuminated by orbs dotted around the walls.