She put her hands on either side of her head to try and stop the pounding. It wasn’t until she rolled onto her back and her shirts began to get wet that she snapped open her eyes.
It was dark, only one small light reflecting off the wet bricks and stones, giving the entire place an eerie, sinister feel.
The place wasn’t recognizable, and Denae began to grow fearful the longer she went without remembering. The last thing she could recall was Kellan pushing her against the wall and kissing her.
Kellan.
Just one thought of him, and their night together came back in Technicolor. Her body flushed, her breathing quickened as she remembered every touch, every kiss, every caress.
She pushed past their lovemaking to dredge up what had happened next. Denae’s hands fell from her head as it all came back to her—waking to the silence, hurrying to dress, and then the Dark.
Denae sat up and squinted through the darkness. There was a shape lying on the floor on the opposite side of the room from her. It was unmoving, a black splotch of something that she couldn’t quite make out.
But she could hear breathing.
Blinking through the inkiness, she put her hands on the ground and felt the cool, wet stones beneath. She started crawling toward the shape when a howling rent the space around her.
Denae jerked to a stop and lifted her head to try and see. She couldn’t even make out where the small shard of light bouncing off the wall was coming from, much less discern what that howling was.
The sound came again, fainter. It made her shiver. She loved scary movies, but after this little trek, she was going to have to reevaluate her choice of cinema if she ever wanted to sleep again.
Denae started crawling once more. She ignored the wetness seeping into her clothes and skin. The need to find Kellan was pressing and twofold—because she wanted to make sure he was all right, and because she didn’t want to be alone against creatures she knew nothing about.
She crawled only a little farther before she realized the shape was a person. Denae moved faster, praying it was Kellan, or at least someone who could help her.
Where are you, Kellan?
Wasn’t he supposed to protect her? Did he get taken with her? Or did the Dark Fae just grab her? Would Kellan come for her? Or was she just another human to him?
The questions beat at her like insistent waves pounding at her self-confidence. With each question, more strongly she felt as if she would never leave wherever she was.
Denae reached the person who was lying on their side facing away from her. The darkness prevented her from making out any features of the form. She poked the arm, but nothing. That one touch had granted her one thing—it was a man.
Hope filled her. It also gave her the courage to peer over the arm at the face. Gently, she moved aside the long hair covering the man’s face and saw enough by the dim light to know it was Kellan.
She rested her head on his shoulder and bit her lip to keep from crying. Denae hadn’t comprehended just how scared she was until that moment; keeping it behind a mental wall so she could stay calm and cool under such pressure.
If she didn’t have the training from MI5, she was sure she would be huddled in a corner crying.
That helpless, vulnerable, powerless feeling that assaulted her reminded her too much of when she’d tried in vain to reach her sister before Renee went beneath the waves, never to resurface.
She couldn’t go through something like that again. A person could only take so much before they cracked. And she was nearing that precipice.
“Kellan,” she whispered. She wanted to talk to him before anyone came, because she knew someone was going to come for them.
The Dark hadn’t followed them across Scotland only to leave them alone.
“Kellan, please,” she pleaded as she shook him.
Denae glanced around, wondering where the door was. She didn’t know if she was aboveground, belowground, or what. All she knew was that she could barely see, she was cold and wet, and scared out of her wits.
Regardless of the training she’d received, nothing prepared her for being captured by the Dark Fae.
The sound of rusty hinges popping open filled the unnerving silence. She couldn’t see anyone else, but Denae instinctively knew that someone was in the room with her.
She didn’t have to guess who it was—a Dark. Her fingers tightened on Kellan’s arm, silently begging him to wake and help her face whatever was coming.
Suddenly, Kellan’s body jerked and he was instantly on his feet. Denae heard the sound of chains rattling and caught the glint of light off a link.
So they had chained Kellan. Why him and not her? As if she needed to ask that question. He was a Dragon King. She was nothing more than a feeble mortal.
She had to get his attention and let him know they weren’t alone.
*
Kellan couldn’t contain his ferocity, his wrath. The Dark had dared to come after him again. And they took Denae—someone under his protection, someone he … cared … for.