“Where am I? Who are you?” She raises her voice, struggling against me again. “What am I doing here?” I push away from her, releasing her arms and slipping off the bed in one swift move. She sits up, watching me apprehensively as I shut the door.
I gesture to one of the arm chairs by the fireplace and incline my head.
She purses her lips and lifts her chin. “I’m fine over here.”
“Sit.” I say, grabbing the back of the chair and squeezing the fabric tightly.
“No thank you.”
I narrow my eyes at her, “It isn’t a request.”
Stiffly, she stomps towards me and throws herself into the armchair. She crosses her arms and looks pointedly away from me. “I want to go home. Take me back. Away from… whatever this place is.”
“No,” I say, slinging an ankle over my knee.
“Why the fuck not?”
I lounge back, enjoying the way her brows furrow with anger. “What is your name, female?”
“My god, you don’t even know my name?” She scoffs. “Why would you send that monster after me if you don’t even know my name?”
My brows raise in surprise. So, she hasn’t realized that the beast and I are one. Good, that gives us time. “Just tell me your name.”
She meets my gaze defiantly. “Verity. Verity Chastain.”
“Verity,” I say, tasting her name. Against her own desires, she blushes. “It’s a beautiful name.”
Verity. The key to ending this curse. My curse.
She isn’t how I pictured her, and I imagined our first meeting differently, though I’m not sure what I expected. Of course, she’s well within her rights to be upset at having been ripped away from her life and brought here. And it’s understandable that she would be disbelieving.
But this is her new reality.
And as cruel and unfair as it may seem, I have no inclinations to go easy on her.
Chapter 4
Verity
The man with pointed ears lounges arrogantly in the armchair, watching me silently. Is he a man? I’m not sure. He looks like a man in every way except for the pointed ears and the strange light in his hazel eyes. He’s also the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.
When he had me pinned on the bed, I couldn’t deny that a primitive part of me imagined what it would feel like to have him rip my wedding dress off with his teeth.
Like I said—a primitive part of me.
The part that doesn’t care that I’ve been kidnapped. The part that only cares that this man with the chiseled jaw and a body that is no doubt rock hard beneath all those clothes growled at me.
But I shut that down right away. The fact is, this man and whatever creature had snatched me from my wedding and brought me here were criminals. He and everyone in this castle are holding me against my will. They don’t seem particularly concerned, which is infuriating.
I press my lips into an angry, thin line. “People will be looking for me. They’ll find you, and when they do, they’ll lock you up for a long time.”
He snorts, a wicked grin stretching across his lips. “Charming. Though I doubt they’ll find you here.”
“And where is here?” I ask. Maybe I can glean some information from him and use it to escape.
“Desmarais, my capitol city,” the man says, stretching his arms wide. “In the kingdom of Alnembra.”
“I’ve never heard of Desmarais, or Alnembra,” I murmur. Perhaps this man is a lunatic. So wrapped up in an elven fantasy he made up a country and even wears prosthetic elf ears. I point to his ears and waggle my finger. “Are those real?”
“Would you like to touch them?” He asks nonchalantly. “Come over here, I won’t bite.”
Somehow, I seriously doubt that. “I’ll pass,” I say. “Who are you?”
“King Altair of the House Ranul. You can call me Altair.” He dips his chin in a shallow bow.
I cock a brow disbelievingly. “A King? Really? That’s what you’re going with? It’s your fantasy I guess. I love how dedicated you are to your character, it’s truly admirable. But I’d like to end this game of pretend now.”
Altair barks a laugh. “Fantasy? Pretend? Oh, Verity, darling, you couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Darling? I bristle at the condescending tone to his deep voice. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that elves are real? And that I’m in some magical, fantasy kingdom?”
“Fae, actually,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes. “Fae, not elves. Elves are so… commercial.”
I roll my eyes. “What am I doing here? Couldn’t you have picked someone else to play pretend with you?”
Altair’s eyes darken. “No, actually. It could only be you.”
“Why?” I ask, curiosity piqued.
His lips press tightly closed and he scowls. “Enough. No more questions. All you need to know is that you will remain here. I will not return you to the mortal realm.”
I laugh softly, but the sound is humorless. Either I’m being held hostage by an insane cosplayer, or I’m hallucinating. There can be no other option. I refuse to believe that elves, or Fae—whatever they’re called—are real. It’s simply impossible.
I’m a librarian, knowledge is my greatest strength. Even children know that elves aren’t real. I believed in them when I was a kid, but I’ve grown up since then. I don’t make houses for the fairies in my backyard anymore. I don’t picture elves running through the trees beside my car when I drive through the forest. This is insanity.
“I’m hallucinating, that’s the best option, right?” I murmur, mostly to myself. Altair cocks his head at me, listening. “Because if I’m hallucinating that means I’m not kidnapped, and insane cosplayers didn’t create a giant animatronic bird to capture me. Because that’s just crazy.”
“Animatronic?” Altair mutters.
“And if I’m not kidnapped, then that means I’ll wake up soon. Preferably on the hill, with minutes to spare before my wedding,” I continue, ignoring him. “And no one will be the wiser. No one even has to know I had a stress-induced hallucination.”
“Your wedding,” Altair echoes. His
