Tempting Darkness(Darkness Series)

Chapter 4

Aleera

For three days, I have sat in this cell. No one comes in except for one man who brings me a bottle of water and some bread daily, but that is it. Every morning is like clockwork, and the new stranger was the only way for me to keep track of time. They hated me, but I didn’t care; the feeling was mutual. Yet, despite my hatred for the men that killed my family, I didn’t think they would ever do this to me. Yes, I ran, but I had a good reason for not being with them. Did they honestly think I would go running into the arms of my parents’ murderers?

I should have chosen the were-fae. At least I wouldn’t have to suffer this misery. Stupid mistake, Aleera. I’m a f*****g i***t for calling on them. Hearing the steel door groan as it opens, I look over to see the man of the morning. He walks over, his back ramrod straight. He bends down, places a metal plate on the ground that holds three slices of bread, and slides it beneath the bars.

“Are you trying to anger them?” he asks, speaking for the first time in three days. He glares at me, then shakes his head, muttering to himself as he grabs yesterday's bread tray.

“Did you hear me?” he demands. It speaks! I think dryly. I was beginning to wonder if he was mute and was waiting for him to bust out some miming. It would have been nice to have some entertainment. He growls when I ignore him. The growl sounds like some savage, making my head turn to glare at him.

I would have appreciated the conversation if he weren’t one of my mate’s minions. But since he is also helping hold me captive, I can’t care any less than I already do about his words. I notice he has brown hair that hangs down to his shoulders and even darker, pitch-black eyes. His scent tells me he is a were-fae, with Lycan blood running through his system. That and the black eyes are a dead giveaway. Only two creatures can hold those demonic orbs, and that is demonic-fae and Were-fae; it makes me wonder what his normal eye color is.

His eyes watching me look nearly as eerie as Darius’, but nothing makes my blood run colder more than Darius’ demonic eyes. I blink at him before turning back to the wall that has captured my attention. Ignoring him, I continue to count the bricks on the wall; it has become some kind of game—that and counting the smears of blood.

“You are asking for trouble. Just be happy they let you live. Not eating will anger them, and if you don’t eat or drink soon, I will be forced to tell Darius,” he warns. Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention back to him. The man doesn’t look that old, maybe in his late twenties, around my mates’ ages. His tone reveals that he thinks I am some naive girl who ran into trouble and was brought here on a whim.

“Answer me, goddammit. If I have to go up there and tell them, they will probably order me to kill you, so please eat. I don’t want to be responsible for your death. I have enough blood on my hands,” he mutters the last part more to himself, staring at his clean hands like he could see the blood that stains them.

“Death, now that sounds appealing. Bring on the grim reaper,” I tell him.

“I am being serious. They… they will hurt you. Do you have any idea who they are? What Darius is capable of?” he asks.

“What’s your name?” I ask him.

“How can she still not know?” I think I hear him mutter.

“After three days, now you choose to speak to me. Were you told not to talk to me?” I ask, and he looks away. So… he has been told not to converse with the enemy. I chuckle to myself.

“What’s so funny?” he asks before chucking a water bottle at me. The bottle rolls across the ground, and I am almost tempted to drink it. I lick my cracked, dry lips, my tongue so dry it feels like sandpaper. My throat is raw, but if they intend to keep me here forever, I would rather starve to death and put myself out of my misery. I am doing well so far. Nearly seven days total without food, three days without water.

It shouldn’t be too much longer if I can hold out a little longer. Thirst will kill me quicker than starvation, and I guess that if it were hot down here, dehydration would have killed me by now. But as it turns out, it is like an igloo down here. So this entire death-by-starvation situation is taking a little longer than I predicted. Lucky me, I think bitterly.

“Nothing. You worry about telling Darius. I find it funny, is all,” I tell him.

“Why would that be funny? They will kill you. No, they will force me to do it, and that’s worse.”

“Why is that worse?”

“Because I don’t want to, that is why. You may have a death wish, but I don’t like killing people. I have seen enough people die, and I am not someone who enjoys killing.”

I snort before coughing on my laugh. “You hate killing people? You are a were-fae. They love hunting and slaughtering. I was almost dog food before they brought me here.” I laugh.

“I am not a monster, and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be down here with you. So, please drink at least, so I don’t have to tell them. I would rather you stayed down here and away from everyone than have you up there with—” he doesn’t finish what he is going to say; instead, he looks toward the door.

“How about you tell them I am eating and drinking like a good little minion, and they will be none the wiser?” I tell him, rolling my eyes.

“I can’t do that when they ask every day about you, so if you die and they find you, they will blame me for not telling them.”

“Instead of asking you, they could check for themselves, so run back to your masters,” I tell him, shooing him away with my hand. The movement takes way too much energy than it should.

“You have no idea. I warned you,” he says, stalking back out. I sigh, reaching for the drink bottle and tossing it through the bars, so I won’t be tempted to drink it.