Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) by Katerina Martinez (novel24 .txt) 📗

Going deeper into the village, we naturally drew more attention. I tried to keep my eyes down, but that didn’t stop me from sensing the presence of watchers. They were all here, studying us as we were marched through their home. We were strangers, Mira and I. Captives.

I started to wonder if the sweet, smoky scent I had detected a moment ago wasn’t another fae cooking on the spit. Some poor soul that had run afoul of these wolves and gotten tangled up with them. I mean, they were wolves after all. Who was to say they weren’t cannibals, too?

Don’t let your mind do crazy things.

Stay in the moment.

Think.

Of course, think about what, exactly? Escape. No, we had covered that. Rescue? Unlikely, considering we could be anywhere in Arcadia by now. So, barring rescue and escape, what was left? A whole lot of nothing, although if we were lucky, we could get eaten—so there was that to look forward to, at least.

The fae marched us through this village of huts and tents all the way to the largest of them all. It looked like four large tents had been meshed together to create a mega tent, which was likely where the Alpha lived. There were more wolf head skulls propped up by the entrance to the tent, this time along with weapons and shields instead of flowers and trinkets.

There were men posted just outside of the tent’s open front flaps; large men wearing black pants, but no shoes, or shirts. It was warm close to the ground, in fact I was starting to feel a little too toasty in my clothes, but we were still surrounded by snowy peaks and mountains. How was any of this possible?

“Dahlia!” I heard a shriek.

Turning to the side, I saw Melina standing with another tall, burly, bearded looking guy. He had her gripped tightly by the arm. I watched her try to shrug out of his grip, but he held her in place and jabbed a finger at her.

“I thought I told you not to move,” he growled.

“Bite me, asshole.”

I grinned, proud of her for using a phrase I had taught her, but then the man holding onto her raised his other hand as if to hit her. Mel went to turn her face aside and protect herself with one arm, when a voice shot through the village, stopping him before he could hit her.

“Stand down, Praxis,” said the woman who had come storming out of her tent.

She was tall, taller than the men around her. Her skin was of a dark complexion, she had thick black hair fashioned into tight braids and plats, and while she looked easily as strong as Aronia, the fact that she was taller made her seem lean and toned instead of bulky. Her pointed ears twitched in the silence following her command, but Praxis did not dare hit Melina.

He lowered his hand, and shoved her toward me.

I rushed over to her and wrapped her up in my arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I said, “I thought we’d lost you.”

“You did, for a bit,” she said, “Ollie didn’t want to stop.”

“Oh no. Is he…?”

“He’s fine,” she cocked a thumb, “They have him back there, tied up. I tried to get them to promise they wouldn’t eat him, but they gave me no such assurances.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Gullie?” she whispered.

The little pixie tickled the back of my neck. I nodded. “Also, fine.”

“Ahem,” came a voice from the front of the tent. The woman standing there was staring at us, her eyes wide, her hands on her hips. I realized, with horror, that everyone was staring at us with equally shocked expressions. “No, please,” said the woman, “Continue your conversation.”

“Sorry…” I said, a little meekly. “I thought you’d killed my friend.”

“We are moon children, not savages.”

“Moon children… that makes a lot of sense.”

She cocked an eyebrow, then approached. “Are you her?” she asked, “The one with the mark? Let me see.”

I was about to show her my right hand when she grabbed it and yanked it to her. She stared at the mark, her eyes narrowed, a little scowl on her lips. With a blink she turned those narrow, almond-shaped eyes up and met mine. “tath isia, huh?” she asked, “The white wolf… we shall see about that. Come with me.”

A shudder worked its way up my spine. I had hated the sound of that. We shall see? What was there to see? I had the mark. I didn’t know what it meant, but I had the mark, and so far, it was the reason I was still alive. It was definitely the reason Mira was still alive, and possible Mel, too. It didn’t sound like this woman was terribly convinced, though.

Toross and some of the other fae followed the woman into the tent. Mel and I walked behind them, trying to keep a safe distance but making sure they knew we weren’t about to try anything stupid. Another tickle at the back of my neck, closer to my left ear, made me tilt my head slightly to the left.

“Hey, Dee,” Gullie said.

“Don’t speak,” I whispered, “They’ll hear you.”

One of the wolves had already perked up, but it hadn’t stopped walking.

“We found our Scary Spice.”

My hand flew to my mouth to catch the giggle that tried to spill out. What I did catch was the attention of the fae around me. Praxis even turned and glowered at me. “Something funny?” he asked, barreling toward me.

“No, no,” I said, waving my hand, but still giggling. “No, absolutely not. Nothing at all.”

“It better not be,” he said, through his teeth. I could smell the meat on his breath, and the… alcohol? Whatever it was, it was sharp, and strong, but it didn’t smell like wine; it smelled more like spiced apples.

Nodding, still fighting to contain the giggling aftershocks as they came, I walked into the tent behind Toross and Scary Spice. Lacking a name, that was what I was going to call her.