#elrielmonth26

He had heard of her. The spymaster no one saw coming- who blended seamlessly into the background. He thought she would have shapeshifting abilities- something that made her so effective. But when she was deposited in this cell, his heart sank. He knew her body, had spent more nights with her than any other Dusk Court member in the centuries they’d known each other. His pride took a hit- how had he never known? How had she kept this secret? How was he in his own worst nightmare? Now he stared at the female that tugged at his heart and wondered how he was going to complete this interrogation. 

Blood trickled from the side of her mouth and he tossed Truth-Teller to the side, clattering against the stone. He felt her eyes following him as he stalked over and grabbed a clean towel. He kept his eyes down- if he met her gaze he was doomed- and moved to her. He gently wiped away the blood and then wrapped the towel around her naked body. She glared up at him, jerked away as the towel touched her face and he then saw the bruising. He realized why she was silent- the males that had brought her here had broken her jaw. 

“Cauldron, Elle.” 

“Elle? I didn’t know you were so…familiar…with the Dusk Court spymaster.” 

He settled his features- it would do him no good to lash out at Keir. Rhys and Cass were on their way from Velaris, warned that they knew the spymaster. He picked Truth-Teller back up and settled back on the iron chair. Silence and brooding his armor as he tried to ignore Keir. Keir stepped towards her and yanked the towel from her body, his shadows swiftly replaced it and hissed up at Keir. 

“She’s useless to us if she cannot speak, Keir. And your people have guaranteed she will need to heal for days or weeks before she can tell us anything. Go- while I’m feeling hospitable.” 

Keir spat in her face and he saw the murder in her eyes. Good. If that fire had been snuffed out- he would have killed Keir in this moment. Instead, he moved back to sharpening Truth-Teller and waiting. As the door slammed closed- he dropped Truth-Teller once again as he sent his shadows to bring him what he needed. Bandages, a spare shirt, ice for the bruises across her body. He barred the door and walked back to her, yanking off his leather armor and undershirt as he went. Alone. They were finally alone and he could let the ruse fall completely. 

“Can you scream for me? Can you make it sound like I’m…torturing…that I’m doing my job?” 

She tried to force sound, but the most she could muster was a whimper- her jaw so thoroughly destroyed that she could not open her mouth enough to properly scream. He carefully detached the manacles from her wrists before bending to release her feet as well. Her hands clutched to his shoulders and he let out a sigh. The first bit of relief he had felt since her sudden disappearance over a week ago. She shrugged on his shirt with ease and he spared her one admonishing gaze. She should have told him, should have explained in all this time what she was to her court. 

Booms sounded behind him, his shadows whispered that it was Rhys and Cass. Her hands gripped his and he forced a smile- the only reassurance he could manage before he opened them back up to the world of his court. He wanted to cloak her, cover her, hide her away from his brothers- but there was no time and no supplies in this dungeon. He needed to get her to a healer and for that he would risk their wrath. He gathered her into his arms and hoped Rhys and Cass would not question that he needed to remove her from this place. Even if she was from another court. Even if she may have betrayed them. What he needed to do went against everything they had been taught.

“I may have to fight our way out. Even if I don’t- I have to tell them.” 

A nod. Her hand brushed through his hair as she tried to convey what she felt. Trust. Not blind trust- only the trust that formed over centuries of loving each other. Each other’s greatest secret in a world that would keep them apart. 

He placed her next to the door, Truth-Teller firmly in her hands. He pulled up the bar and his brothers greeted him. Worry. Panic. Relief that their friend was alive. Healthy concern from Rhys that she betrayed them, Rhys’ eyes roving over her form and then a smirk as the tattoo on her thigh was evident. A Night Court tattoo. A tattoo that he had a mirror of on his own thigh and one he had refused to explain to his brothers for over a century. 

“I need to get her home and healed and then she’ll tell us what she knows. This was done…she was framed to target…” 

“It’s always been your mating tattoo.”