The Fairest (Book #1)

46: Welcome Back

"Master," Sii greeted as he stood at attention.

The Fiisen entered, scorn written on his face like poetry. The butterflies that tried to spur to life in her gut died in fear and hatred. This man had major issues. How could he want her dead one moment, then kidnap her after her strange death and resurrection?

"What happened to Dargany?" Gris shouted at the soldier next to Eron, who had a fresh, nasty cut along the side of his face.

Mageia glanced at Gris, putting two and two together. He had to have been the one Gris left fighting with Dargany. A mischievous smirk grew on the soldier's face as he strolled around the clearing to stand with the other two soldiers.

"You had to follow," Eron said, shaking his head.

"You bastard! I knew you were guilty!" Gris yelled. "What happened to Dargany?"

"Don't worry about him."

"You son of a whore, you had them hurt Rasheem and kill Hercones and those people," Gris sneered. "You burned half the palace."

Eron approached with his normal, calm stride. Mageia felt her arms burn, just like when the gods were arriving in their real forms. Magic! Eron was a Soother, which meant he had magic in his blood too. She hoped she was right. She began taking calm breaths, hoping to suck in this new energy and connect with her own magic. But something was off about the commander. A sickness, perhaps. Whatever was wrong with him, he couldn't hide it behind his exhausted eyes and his pale skin.

"Apparently, they all were at the wrong place at the wrong time," he shrugged.

"You asshole. I will have your head one day," Gris promised.

"I don't think so." Eron stepped to him closely. He made a fist and punched the prince in the face. The strong strike sent Gris and his chair crashing to the floor.

Mageia screamed. "Why'd you do that? What is wrong with you?"

Eron stretched out his fingers as Gris coughed and twisted his face in pain.

"That is for punching me earlier, boy."

"You are more a boy than he is," Mageia said. "Stop acting like a man because you're doing a terrible job at it."

Those striking red eyes shifted to her, and Mageia clenched her teeth together. The magic penetrating from the man's body sucked into hers like water meeting a rag. She recalled their last times together. How he easily struck her, burned her, and violated her because he could. She knew he could do it again. Except this time, he had men to help, and no one was here to save her except Gris, who was suffering on the floor.

"Stand her up," Eron demanded.

"My pleasure," Sii crooned from out of nowhere. He fumbled with the rope tied to the back of the chair. It loosened, but the restraint did not. Sii forced her to her feet, and Eron didn't move to allow any space between them. She tried to step back, only to knock into the chair.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, needing to talk to ignore the awkwardness rising between them.

Eron shifted to stand directly in front of her, and she felt faint.

"Remember our talk, my lady," Eron said. He carefully raised his left hand to touch her face. She cringed and edged away, but he continued until he took hold of her chin.

She shivered. "What are you talking about?"

"The interrogation?"

Mageia yanked her chin from his touch. "You mean when you assaulted me?"