From the Ashes

Chapter 9 ~ A Corrupted Prince

Morana drew her dagger instinctively, and though her magic begged to protect her, she kept it clamped down. If this Corrupted Fae saw it, it would be that much more eager to drain every last drop of blood from her body. Every nerve within her screamed at her to run while it was unable to follow, but still, she held the Fae's gaze.

She drew a deep breath and caught its scent immediately. The Fae was male, and he only faintly smelled of blood which meant he hadn't fed in a while. Why? Had he been chained down here that long? Was he being punished for something? Or was he restrained for other reasons?

With her heart pounding like a battering ram against her sternum and her mouth drier than the Gray Desert, Morana stepped into the open.

The male cocked his head. "Weird." His voice was low and cool, with a hint of accent that reminded her of Rehema's. Or Rhidian's. "They wouldn't bother to send me food. They'd let me seek it out myself. So who are you and why are you here?"

"I'll ask the questions," Morana bit out, angling her dagger towards the male. "What are you doing here?"

"Sitting on my ass and twiddling my thumbs, obviously." His head remained at that curious angle while he shook his chains pointedly.

"Who put you here?"

"Our most benevolent Mother Goddess, Nepenthe."

Morana frowned and arched a brow. "Really?"

"No." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

She inched closer, hoping to get a better look at the male. He lifted his chin as if to let her. "How long have you been here?" Morana asked.

Now that she was closer to him, she could see the deeper shadows within his face, revealing gaunt features that might be beautiful if they weren't so haggard. There was only the slightest hint of red in his eyes. In the light, they'd be a deep shade of brown, as all Corrupted Faes' became when they were starving.

"What is the moon's phase?" He asked in return.

"Full."

"And the season?"

"We've set into the cool weeks of the end of summer."

"At least two months then. Maybe longer." 

"Why are you chained?"

"Why is any creature chained?" He lowered his head and dark hair shrouded his face completely. "Because I'm dangerous."

Morana tensed and retreated once more. She flexed her fingers around the hilt of her dagger and prepared her next question. She didn't want to reveal too much to this Blood Fae, but perhaps he could provide a clue about what she sought.

"I grew up hearing stories about the Sleeping Heir," she began. "I came to see if the legends were true."

He shook his head with a rough laugh. "The Sleeping Heir. Do they still call me that?"

"You!" Morana exclaimed before she could stop herself. "You can't possibly be the Sleeping Heir."

"No? Then I'm afraid you'll leave here disappointed. If I'm not the Heir, then he must be dead." He raised his head once more. "Am I dead? Perhaps you've come to drag me to my final destination. I always assumed it would be Hadeon's Hel, and yet, you must come from the Eternal Haven."

Warning thunder cracked through her head as he drew a deep breath, scenting her. "But you smell of wind and smoke and fire. The last embers of a sunset. Like a phoenix."