Hunted by a Night Fae

Chapter 14

With my resolve now in place, I steadied my breathing. One of the veiled figures was moving towards us as if they stepped on nothing but air. As they neared, I could glimpse their body through the sheer red material. They had a somewhat feminine form, suggesting she was a female. However, as my eyes rose to where her face should be, I froze.

Beneath the veil, I could just make out her features in the faint moonlight. Or rather—the lack of any at all. Instead of eyes, there were two sunken holes, cast in shadow under the veil. Where there should have been a nose was just smooth skin. She had no lips or mouth, making me surprised when a soft whispered voice sounded through the air. It carried as if reverberating through my skull.

"I am a Priestess of Mab," she said as she bowed her tall head to me. "I am here to bind you, mortal and faerie. This union is permanent and unwavering. Once claimed as a Prize of the Hunt, you must join together, combining both mortal and immortal blood. Through this ceremony, the mortal and faerie will be connected and always be able to find one another, allowing the faerie to protect their mate. When the fires of Beltane are lit, you will leave here as husband and wife."

As the priestess's words sunk in, I went still. Even the heat from Ronan's grasp could not melt the ice that was filling my blood. Ronan would be able to track me based on what I could understand of the priestess's statement.

I glanced at Ronan, who was frowning, the news of the binding appearing to trouble him just as much as it had me. He looked at me, our eyes connecting, and I felt his grip on my wrist slacken.

Second thoughts? I had no idea what his intentions with me were. Perhaps he would take me back the hole he crawled from and enslave me to him, making me fulfill whatever deprived pleasures he had.

I had to find a way out of this before it came to that.

Ronan looked around the clearing as if he too wanted to escape. He said something in fae, his voice smooth and deep. I saw the priestess's head shake, and Ronan's frown deepened.

Eventually, he let out a sigh, his eyes fixing accusingly on me as if blaming me for all of this.

The priestess gestured to us. "Hands," she said to me, then repeated it to Ronan. I paid attention to the word this time, trying to memorize it. Still, the strange sounds were hard to connect, and I was not sure if she had said one word or two.

With reluctance, I held out my hand, Ronan doing the same as he finally released my wrist. Cool air returned to me in a rush, somehow feeling colder than before. I remembered Eirian calling him the "Fire Bastard" and wondered what that meant.

The priestess raised a bony hand to us, urging to do as she had asked. I looked at my small hand, then at Ronan's large clawed one, momentarily stunned at the all-around largeness of him. He just took up more space than others. His face was stony and hard to read as usual, though he did not look pleased.

"First, you must say your name. Your true name."

My eyes went wide.

"No."

Ronan glared at me, impatient as I shook my head.

"You must," the priestess insisted, her voice changing in tone. "It is the way."

I looked at the dagger, then back to Ronan, contemplating.

But the Priestess was no fool. "If you lie, a girl with the name you give will die."

Panic filled me. Gran's warning echoed in my head.

"Never tell a faerie your true name, Heather. If you do, you will be at their mercy."