Overdose Ch. 04

Sorry it's so late. Hope you enjoy!

The next few days pass uneasily but repetitively; wake up, eat, avoid Ashford, sleep. I have to take some of that faerie fruit to curb my cravings but I am careful to limit myself to a few drops of the stuff, not wanting to repeat last time's episode.

Ashford is persistent. He never seems far away and always seems to know when I try to leave the castle, and is more than happy to stop me. I am going stir-crazy. I am losing any sanity I may have possessed. There is nothing to do here and I refuse to ask Ashford - or Besta, for that matter - for anything. I never would have thought that being trapped in a mystical realm with some banished prince who, by the way, is afaerie, would beboring.

And the worst thing? I can't stop thinking about him. It's unlike anything I've experienced before. He drifts through my thoughts when I least expect it. His habit of always being nearby seems to stretch to my thoughts too. Maybe it's the boredom but I find my mind wanders to him more often than I'd like.

"Jennifer?" A voice breaks me from my thoughts.

"What, Ashford?" I reply, voice monotone.

He appears in the doorway of my room in seconds. He smiles. "Breakfast is ready when you are."

"I'm not hungry," I lie. Of course I am, but I'm stubborn and don't want to eat breakfast and act all chummy with the guy responsible for my being here.

He sighs and stalks towards me. "Are you a child, Jennifer? Need I promise you a reward for eating a meal?"

I roll my eyes. "No, I'm just not hungry, but when I gain the ability to control my bodily functions, I'll let you know." I am being difficult. It is the only source of entertainment here.

The fabric of his trousers brushes my knee as he draws even closer. His face turns serious, the warm morning light from the window hitting his angled features, running along the knife-edge of his jaw. "Need I coerce you to eat? Do you really need a glamour to force you to function?"

I can't stop the wave of fear that floods me. I have searched for oblivion in a lot of places, but the feeling of his magic controlling me, the lack of choice, the complete servitude, was horrifying. "Don't."

His slit-pupil gaze shifts. He can sense the urgency in my tone, that pleading. I'm too desperate to care how desperate I sound.

"I mean it. Don't do that magic glamour shit." I swallow. "Please."

He retreats back a step, his face deep in thought. "I don't suppose you know much about my kind, do you?"

Grateful for the change of topic, I try to regain my position in the conversation, pretend that I'm unfazed. "By 'your kind' are you referring to faeries or arseholes?"

His eyes narrow. "You know faeries can't lie. As such, we have a reputation for deals, bargains. We must abide by our word. I think I would like to make you a deal, Jennifer."

I blink, confused. "Aren't faeries notorious for conning humans through deals? Like asking to be taller and being turned into a horse."

He grins. "Guilty."

"You're not a very good salesman." I didn't trust Ashford as far as I could throw him and I was certainly not going to strike a bargain with him.

"I don't have to be. I have something that I believe you would like." He leaves a pause for drama because, of course he does. "I would be willing to promise to never glamour you again without explicit consent."

My fingers gripped the duvet below me. Of course I wanted that guarantee. Of course he would know that. "In return for what?" I ask, voice shaky.

His grin widens. "Three favours," he replies. "Anything, anytime, when I ask."

"What three favours?" I push.

"Ah, that is for me to decide. So... do you accept?"

It feels like a trap. It feels like trading his control over me for a different type of the same thing. And yet, I am tempted. Of course I am, he knew I would be. The memory of his fingers trailing up my thigh floods my thoughts.

"Two," I counter.

His eyes glint in the light. "Do be aware that despite your being human, you will have to abide by this deal, you can't lie your way out of this."

I nod.

"Then it's done."

***

After coercing me to eat breakfast - with words, not magic - Ashford and I sit in silence opposite the dining table. He is reading some small, leather-bound book, as if I'm not there. I feel on edge. How do I know when he will call in those favours? What if he asks for something I'm not willing to give? What if he asks me to stay? What if-

"Would you stop worrying? It's rather annoying," Ashford says without looking up. I resist the urge to jump at the sudden sound.

"I'm not," I lie. Our eyes connect for a brief moment and he scoffs before returning his gaze to the page. "I want to go outside again."

"Not a good idea." Not so much as a glance up. My blood simmers.

"There's nothing to do here and I don't know how to get home, so I want to go outside."

The book shuts close with a smack. I finally have his attention and he doesn't look happy about it. "You are like a petulant child. You don't understand what's good for you."

I narrow my eyes. "I want to do something."

"Just because I am banished here to solitude does not mean that there are not animals and monsters dwelling in those gardens. Ones that would eat you up in a single gulp. You do not understand this world, human, so don't make stupid decisions."

I sigh. He's like a grumpy old man. Well, to be fair, he is probably very old. "How old are you?"

He frowns. "I don't know. Why?"

"You don't know how old you are?" My fingers grip the wooden chair beneath me.

He shrugs. "We don't keep track of such trivial things."

Weird.

Silence. God, 57 years really took a toll on his conversational skills. Or has he always been like this?

"If you want ways to pass the time, dear, I can think of a few." His tone is lewd, his smirk suggestive.

An icy shiver runs down my spine. "Are you calling in your favour so soon?"

He laughs. "So soon? Faeries are patient beings, girl. We do not waste away our deals so easily. Besides, we have time." The reminder is a low blow.

My lip curls as I stand up abruptly, my chair scraping against the tile of the kitchen. He enjoys pissing me off, I can tell, but as I go to leave the room, he remains silent. Surprisingly, I manage to find the door to the outside out of sheer luck. My fingers grip the silver handle and part of me hesitates. Ashford can't lie, so it must be true what he said about monsters and animals killing me. Obviously, that is not good. My fingers twitch.

My curiosity wins out, as it often does, and I open the door to the breathtaking scenery once more. It is just as impressive as the first time, more even, after so long indoors. The sun is warm and welcoming and hits my skin just right. A gentle breeze whistles through the trees, swaying their oddly-shaped leaves ever so slightly. I bend down to touch a small, fiercely violet flower blooming just in front of me. It glows blue on contact and I nearly fall back, surprised.

If there was anything good about this place, it was this. It was inhuman beauty in its most delicate form.

I wander over to that stream once more, admiring its viridescent water as it sparkled in the sunlight. Occasional dark shadows loom under its surface and my mind briefly drifts back to Ashford's warning. As if reading my mind, his image appears on the surface of the river, all sharp angles and oddly blue skin.

I start. From the scenery around him, he is also outside. And he is also behind me.

"You need to wash your hands." I am not surprised to hear his voice.

I don't turn to face him, not ready to be committed to back inside. "Why?"

"The flower you carelessly prodded, it is poisonous upon ingestion. For humans, at least."

I stare at my finger and find it stained purple. At least I know now that, should it come to it, I have options.

Ashford's face in the water turns to horror and I realise I said the words aloud. I was joking. Kind of. I turn to face him. His face has settled back into cold beauty. He grips my stained hand, fingers tight around my wrist. I don't resist until he brings my index finger to his lips.

"Stop-" I try to say before he takes the finger into his mouth. I am stunned. I barely blink by the time he releases me, finger licked clean.

"I think we should return back inside, don't you?" The corner of his mouth is smudged violet. I try to pretend this didn't just happen.

"I'm not done," I protest because the dude just licked myfinger.

"You could have died, Jennifer. I think it's best you be done."

A part of me burns with anger, sick of his dictating my every move. "Nah, I don't think so. But hey, if you disagree, I'm sure you could just use a favour, glamour me to want to go inside."

He narrows his eyes as he often does when I'm like this. "I could do that. I could use a favour to make you fall in love with me, follow my every word, wouldn't that be nice?"

I have the distinct feeling of being out of my depth.

He takes a step closer. "But that would be a waste. Because I don't want your love and I can easily carry you back inside myself."

"You wouldn't-"

I'm in his arms before I can finish my sentence and I don't know why I am surprised but I gasp all the same as he drags me back to the entrance. This time, I don't bother kicking up another fuss and relax in his arms, resigned.