“She’s like a princess,” Bluebell murmured.
“You know the rules.”
“No fixating on people. Right.”
Jasper knew how that road ended. Bluebell wanted to like everyone, but even more than that, she wanted to fall in love with everyone. The emotion was tempting for her kind. Like ambrosia, the Fae lived on romance and heartbreak.
The last time Bluebell had found a person who caught her eye, the two of them ended up on a wild goose chase for a month. It took nearly as long for Jasper to come to his senses and realize he was chasing a terrified girl who didn’t even know who he was. The dashing blow to his ego snapped him out of the Fae spell that had made him googly eyed. When a Fae became obsessed, he had learned to wait it out. They would either grow weary or obtain their goal.
Never again. He had told Bluebell that many years ago, but reminded her at every opportunity. Falling in love like that was dangerous. He’d stick to the love he felt for Lyra. Safe, unrequited, and easy to move on from.
His heart stuttered when he thought of her. Lyra. His perfect little Siren. Never once had she looked at him with anything other than sisterly adoration. He buried the truth rather than admit she did not feel the same way. She was in his life. That had to be enough.
Except, now it could never be enough. Now he was stuck in a cell, and she was living happily with her nightmare of a boyfriend…fiance…husband. Whatever the man was now.
Jasper needed to distract himself.
He settled down on the ground so his great bulk would not frighten the woman in the cage. He leaned as close as he could to the iron bars and made a soft sound.
“Are you awake?” he asked.
She shifted. It was the slightest of movements as her toes curled.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry if I frightened you before. I did not know where I was.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted her head to stare at him with big blue eyes.
She was a delicate thing. Her face was a perfect moon with high cheekbones beneath silvery pale skin. A small spiraled horn grew from her forehead and sparkled in the dim light. She was covered in dirt and god knew what other kind of grime, but still radiated beauty.
Jasper had never been so close to a Unicorn. They were a rare species in the old dimension and even moreso now. The rumors of their beauty were not exaggerated.
She blinked a few times, as though she were having trouble focusing upon him. “None of us know where we are. Not when we first arrive.”
“Us?” he repeated.
Movement suddenly fluttered from all around him. As he stood, others walked forward from the shadows of their own cages. They were each separated by an empty cage. He counted at least a dozen within his sight, each one a very different creature.
To his right, a Firedrake stared with burning eyes. It crawled forward so he could see it, laboring as the bruise darkened scales rasped upon the stone floor. A Mermaid was in the cage beyond the Firedrake, her soaking wet hair and scaled legs barely visible through the murky darkness.
“There are many of us,” the Unicorn murmured. “All here for his greater purpose.”
Gooseflesh rose along his arms. “Which is?”
“We’re his back up plan.”
“Back up plan?” He turned and arched a brow. “None of us are fighting for him.”
“We don’t have to. He keeps us here like a repository of potential magic. When he needs something else, he comes down to the zoo,” the Unicorn spat. “Or siphons it off of us until we waste away.”
“I didn’t know he could steal magic without killing the soul.”
“No one did,” she bitterly said.
The others remained silent, and Jasper wondered why. They were all still alive, at the very least. Some were gravely wounded, perhaps, but he couldn’t see many of the prisoners.
He gestured towards the rest. “And they can speak I take it?”
“Some can.” She shifted onto her knees, wincing at the slight movement. “Others can’t. They are unlikely to speak to you, however.”
His brows furrowed. “Why?”
She struggled to her feet with no small amount of pain. His heart ached with her every flinch and shudder. Perhaps that was the natural response to a Unicorn’s suffering. Or perhaps he was getting soft.
She looked up from the long curtain of her hair, a wry grin curling her lips. “The same reason they don’t usually talk to me.”
He wished he didn’t understand what she meant. He wished he didn’t feel the stares zeroing in on the drooping wings attached to his shoulder blades. How could he not? She and Jasper were anomalies — strange creatures that were usually not seen in these parts.
Fairy and Unicorn. Both were not supposed to exist. And if they did, they certainly weren’t supposed to still have their wings and horns.
He grunted in response.
“My name is Ella,” the Unicorn murmured. She walked towards the edge of the empty cage between them and gingerly lowered herself once more to the ground. Cross-legged now, she boldly made eye contact with him.
Jasper wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. He was overloaded with fear, embarrassment, and, more than anything, the desire to hide. He was good at hiding.
“Jasper. Talk to her,” the Fairy in his head whispered.
For once, she was right. He had no way of knowing how long this Unicorn, Ella, had been locked away in this godforsaken place. Now more than ever was a good time to find out what Malachi wanted.
He mirrored Ella’s movements and settled himself onto the ground. His ribs ached as
