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seleneprince · 23 days ago

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Following this little something that sent me on a brainrot for days

PROLOGUE

There are very few things that can impress him at this point.

Or so he thought.

Because when he sees a human girl cross the Wall by herself, armed with a sharp tongue and an iron-made will only, well, he has to be impressed. Shocked even.

Because no human has ever crossed the Wall by themselves and survived. They're not supposed to. They're too weak, too mortal for the ruthlessness that is the land of Fae. They're prey in the home of predators. Even the strongest of their people rarely last more than a few days.

But this female—this girl—doesn't look like any other human he has seen before. And he’s seen enough of them to get a general idea. She isn’t covered in weapons or clad in armor; instead, she wears accessories made of iron. (The sight of those always makes him chuckle—how the humans cling to them, as if it'll really give them a chance against Fae. Bless them). Her hair has been braided up beautifully, though a few strands have escaped, giving her a messy, wild look. She wears a plain, gray dress with a dark coat, stained with mud and ripped in places, yet she still carries herself with a certain pride—her eyes, piercing and unwavering, burn with a fierce determination he doesn't expect to see in mortals.

There’s something about her that makes him pause, a contradiction he can’t quite put his finger on. She’s obviously battered by her journey—filfth splattered across her dress, her face streaked with dirt mixed with sweat, and exhaustion clear in the lines of her features. Yet, even with the signs of weariness etched into her, she holds her head high, shoulders squared against the chilling breeze that sweeps through the land.

Of course, the path to the Wall has its own dangers and obstacles, with some Lesser Faes sneaking out once in a while to haunt the lands being the tamest of them. Certainly, a dainty thing like her should have died before even getting a glimpse of the Wall. It's astounding that she got out with just some bruises and dirt on her clothes. he wonders if he might be hallucinating—if this human is just a product of his exhausted mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears her curse, loud and furious, and he knows she’s real.

His lips quirk up at the scene. There's something endearingly amusing about such a delicate creature with such a filthy mouth. She reminds him of a wet, angry kitten. Adorable.

When he takes a closer look, carefully hidden in the shadows, he hums in appreciation. For a mere human covered in grime, she's a real beauty. Her eyes are an unusual blend of blue and gray, shifting depending on how the light catches them. Her sun-kissed skin is marred by burns, and her frame is a bit too thin for his liking, yet she exudes an air of cold, regal elegance—like a fallen queen. His interest deepens when a sense of familiarity stirs within him, as though he’s seen her before. It can’t be true. He would remember.

But before he can think further, the fiery human catches him off guard once more.

"I know you're there. Show yourself, coward!"

He's grateful that she can't see him almost tripping backwards in shock. What the fuck?! She can sense him. How? She's human, and as far as he can tell, she doesn't have an ounce of magic in her.

Maybe she's bluffing? She's terrified and knows there are all sorts of creatures roaming these lands, so she's trying to paint herself as brave. That must be it. It's an irrational, ridiculous enough of a reaction for a human.

She scoffs, stomping her feet.

"For heaven's sake, just come out now. Let's get this over with."

It's not a bluff. She really knows he's watching her. Or that someone is. She must know she's at disadvantage here, and still insists on provoking a potential predator.

Interesting.

He finally steps out of the shadows, appearing right in front of her. He grins when she jumps back, surprised and scared. He squints his eyes when her fear is quickly replaced with anger and...annoyance.

This human must be an abnormal among her kind, surely.

"What's the matter, dear?" he smiles, purposedly showing his sharp teeth. "I thought you wanted me to come out"

He delights in the nervous gulp and the tension that settles on her body. She attempts to take a step back, her feet hesitating, only to stay rooted in place, unmoving.

She still tries to hold unto the fake indifference, how cute. Not like it'll help her, of course. She'll about to learn just how useless the iron she wears is. But before he speaks again, her rich voice shuts him off again.

"You took a long time, sir. Haven't you been taught that it's incredibly rude to make a lady wait?"

Her chin lifts, defiance shining in her eyes despite the rapid beat of her pulse that he can practically hear thrumming in the air between them.

And he...well, he's momentarily stunned, caught between amusement and genuine disbelief. Any normal human would've been trembling by now, begging for mercy, or at the very least, backing away. But she stands her ground, her fear coating the air and her fingers twitching slightly over her where her thigh is.

He throws a quick look there and notices something poking underneath her skirt. A strapped knife. Her hand has been discreetly moving towards there, and now lays on top of it. So she knows he's dangerous. She knows what her situation is. The fact that, despite that, she still considers stabbing him an option can be interpreted as incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

Probably both, coming from an human.

"Oh, my humblest apologies, dear," he makes a point of dramatically bowing to her, "I didn't want you to fret, you see. It is very rare to meet girls like yourself around here."

"Like myself?"

"Humans. For some reason, they tend to dissapear quickly once they're here. Specially the young and pretty ones."

He smells her fear, and the rush of blood pumping faster with it. He has to hold back a purr. Of course, she's smart enough pick on the threat, yet she doesn't react to it. She doesn't give away anything, besides the imperceptible twitch of her fingers. She's determined to fool him with that fake passivity.

Too bad he can practically savour her terror on his tongue. Luckily for her, she's too interesting to kill her soon.

"That doesn't explain why you waited so long to reveal yourself, sir."

Her voice has a slight tremble in it, but she raises her chin to speak to him and her blue-grey eyes look straight into his. The breath gets stuck in his throat for a moment. His gaze trails the shape of her lips, her long neck, her curly eyelashes, her slim waist.

His tongue swipes across his lips, a gesture that she doesn’t miss, judging by the way her shoulders tense.

"Ah, forgive me," he says, struggling more than he should to focus again, " I enjoy watching from the shadows first. I'm a bit shy." He pauses, studying her reaction, catching the flicker of uncertainty that crosses her face before she smooths it over with irritation.

She huffs and crosses her arms, like she's getting bored of him. As if he couldn't sense how much she wishes to run and hide.

"Do you get a kick out of lurking in the shadows, scaring humans for fun?" she snaps, each word laced with irritation. "Or is it just me you’re bothering tonight, sir?"

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating in the still air, a deliberate attempt to unsettle her further. But she doesn’t flinch, not even a little. Instead, her jaw tightens, and she glares up at him with a fierceness that makes his curiosity spike.

"And what if I do?" he counters, his voice dropping to a silken purr. He leans closer, invading her space. “What’s a little thing like you going to do about it?”

Her nostrils flare, her breath coming quicker now, but she doesn’t shrink back. "I don’t know," she replies, her voice sharp, almost cutting. “Maybe I’ll stab you in the balls and run.”

He arches a brow, genuinely taken aback by her audacity. This girl—this little human girl—is threatening him, a High Fae who could snap her like a twig without breaking a sweat. She's an insignificant creature standing in front of a monster that can destroy and devour her before she can blink. But she stares at him like she might actually mean it, like she’s weighing the distance between them, considering whether she could really drive that dull blade into his body before he overpowers her.

Ah, she's truly a joy. Far too interesting to let her die. Cauldron knows it's been so long since he's had some good entertainment.

"Oh, we don't need to get so violent, dear," a slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, and he lifts his arm, "I have better plans for us."

He flicks his wrist and shadows lurge at her before she can react, caging her with her arms pressed against her body, rendering her unable to move. She gasps and struggles uselessly, grunting in frustration and shock.

He chuckles at the display, throwing his hands in his pockets as he walks slowly towards her, like a predator lurking his prey. Only this time she can fully see him.

He stops just inches from her, his smirk widening as he studies her closer. The sight of her struggling against the shadows, the way her breaths come in quick, angry gasps, sends a shiver of satisfaction through him. She’s caught in his web now, her wrists and arms bound tight by shadows she cannot hope to break, and yet the fire in those silver eyes remains undimmed.

With a shift of his finger, a little shadow goes up to her chin and forces it up so she's looking at him. She grits her teeth, pure fury lighting up her glare. He can’t resist running his eyes over every curve of her face, savoring the wild anger in her expression. There’s no fear in her now—only rage. And it looks beautiful.

"Who the hell are you? Let me go!" she snaps, voice ringing with a boldness that doesn’t match her current state.

He smirks. It’s rare to find a mortal with this much fire, especially one who doesn’t immediately crumble under the weight of the unknown.

"Just a curious observer," he replies smoothly, his voice low and laced with danger. "And you, little thing, are far more interesting than I expected."

Her eyes widen, her struggles ceasing momentarily.

"What in the world do you mean?!"

He leans in until his breath brushes against her nose, relishing in how she holds her breath in anticipation.

"I'm going to keep you with me."

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