“You see that? You got this dragonfly, short-legged thot thinking she can just walk through here like she ain’t a fucking prisoner!” he said to War.
“She’s not a prisoner, she’s a play toy. And last time I checked, this is my home. Show some respect to my belongings,” War replied coldly.
“You got that, lil’ bro. Let me know when you’re finished with it so I can take it to the dumpster,” his brother sneered.
“No doubt,” War responded, just as nonchalant.
“I don’t think your precious wizard will be getting rid of me anytime soon. You know what they say about us fairies—our nectar is like crack,” I taunted his brother.
“Watch your mouth, Eboenia,” War scolded.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I muttered.
“Bro, our father would kill you if he knew you were sticking it in a goddamn woods creature. Kill her and get it over with!” I heard his brother say as I walked away.
“Yo, shut the fuck up! Me wanting to fuck her ain’t gonna stop nothing! I’ll cut your head off myself if you or anyone else questions me about what I do in the bedroom. Ain’t nobody checking me about shit, so get gone,” War snapped.
“Keep on, you’re gonna end up like the last one who stuck his dick in a fairy. You should know firsthand how it went down—don’t you see the visions? Ain’t this why you drew on these walls? To remind yourself and us not to be tempted by a goddamn fairy? She poisoned you, bro. I can see it,” his brother whispered.
They must’ve forgotten how sensitive fairy ears were. “She’s dead soon anyway,” War said.
A single tear traced a silent path down my cheek as I listened to War speak of me that way. His words were a cruel reminder—I was nothing more than a plaything in his eyes, a vessel for his vengeance. I bore the weight of sins my ancestor had carved into his bloodline, suffering beneath his twisted need for punishment. Yet I realized that War had never confessed to his brother that he had bound me to him with a curse. Still, I could not bring myself to expose him; my heart would not allow it. The curse pulsed between us, relentless, weaving my soul ever tighter to his. Or perhaps his brother did know—and thought it was a fitting punishment.
I sat on a velvet chair in the hallway, staring straight ahead as I tried to figure out a way to survive. War and his clan allowed the women of Charmden to live. I could only hope he would spare my life in the end.
A portal ripped open in front of me, its spinning rings howling with wind so fierce I had to brace myself not to get knocked off my feet. War stepped out, looking pissed off and wild-eyed, his energy crackling in the air. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him.
“The next time you hear something, stay away from it. What goes on in here ain’t got shit to do with you,” he snapped.
“It woke me up. How long have I been asleep, anyway?” My voice came out hoarse.
“Eighteen hours. Come,” he barked.
He snatched me by the arm, his grip iron-tight, and dragged me down the hallway. Upstairs, laughter and voices drifteddown—his clan, probably. War hustled me along, practically shoving me before anyone could see. Another portal shimmered into existence right in front of us, and before I could blink, War shoved me through. The force of it nearly snapped my neck.
“What the hell is your problem?” I spat, stumbling as the portal snapped shut behind me.
Gunshots echoed somewhere outside. I sucked in a breath—city air—and realized I was no longer in that cursed tower anymore. I was standing in a regular-ass living room: exposed brick walls, black leather couches, a fireplace flickering low. I rushed to the window. Baltimore City. I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through me at the sight of familiarity.
“Go upstairs and take a shower,” War said.
I turned to see him slouched on the couch, reaching for the centerpiece on the coffee table. He pulled out a stash and started breaking up weed, his stress rolling off him in waves. The collar was still tight around my neck, even though we weren’t in his world anymore. I reached for the chain, but it was gone—just the collar now.
“Your magic’s still dormant. I trust you won’t do anything stupid. Try to leave, that’s your ass,” War said, not bothering to look up.
I sat across from him, folding my legs under me, refusing to let him see me shake. “We need to talk.”
He leaned back, eyes burning behind his glasses, watching me like I was a puzzle he was tired of solving. “I didn’t bring you here to talk.”
“You know about my wand because your people gave it to mine. Your brother said you have visions. That wizard in the painting—is he your family? You’re doing all this to me because of what somebody did to a leader? I’m not even old enough to know what happened, and you hate me for it. You turned me into something you despise—I’m not that horned fairy!”
War shook his head, breaking up the bud with steady hands. “You’d be dead by now if you were. That bitch was a traitor. But since you inherited Clover’s wand, it’s only right you carry her shame,” he said.
“You’re torturing me.”
He stood, walked over, and grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Your ancestor tainted your blood.” He dropped to his knees in front of me and yanked open my robe. “This is what you are—a nature whore, just like that bitch who betrayed her people for the enemy. You might not be her, but her essence is stamped on you through your ancestry,” he gritted out.
“I’m not a whore!” I hissed.
