"Why don't you go to hell?" I growled, my voice low and dangerous, the words slipping from my mouth like venom. There was no humor in it, no ounce of politeness. It was a threat, plain and simple.
"Thanks for inviting me to your home, but no," the fae replied smoothly, his voice annoyingly calm and collected, as if my words hadn't phased him in the slightest. He stood there, his posture almost too relaxed, a stark contrast to the tension in the air between us. I raised Nacht, my trusted katana, the cold steel gleaming in the dim light as I pointed the blade directly at his ridiculously beautiful face. His eyes flicked to the sharp edge, but he didn't flinch. Instead, a savage smile twisted his lips, one that made my skin crawl. He wasn't afraid. No, he was entertained, clearly enjoying the whole exchange, finding amusement in my obvious distaste for him.
"I can see that I cannot read your thoughts," he continued, his voice dripping with an unsettling curiosity. "I like it. But do you know why I cannot read them?" His tone was too smooth, too calculated, as if my every reaction was something he found fascinating, like a scientist observing a specimen in a lab.
I tightened my grip on the katana, my knuckles whitening as I fought to keep my composure. His eyes flicked to my hands, and for a moment, they lingered there, studying them with an intensity that made my stomach twist. It wasn't an admiring look, no—his gaze was calculating, almost predatory, like he was figuring out how to manipulate every part of me.
"You worked hard, didn't you, little witch?" His voice was almost playful, though there was a dark undercurrent to it. "You don't have a lady's hands, but they're still beautiful." The audacity, the nerve. The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I almost couldn't believe the gall of the fae standing before me.
"So the rumors said that the faes couldn't lie," I shot back, my voice sharp and biting. "I almost believed it. Now, I think it was all bullshit." The sarcasm was thick in my words, but the underlying anger was unmistakable. This entire encounter felt like a game to him, and I was growing tired of playing along.
"Well, yeah, we can lie," he said with an irritating sincerity, as if the very concept of lying was something he was doing me a favor by acknowledging. "But I didn't lie. I really do think you have beautiful hands." He said it with such conviction, with such casual sincerity, that it felt like a jab, a subtle attempt to unnerve me further. It was impossible to tell if he was mocking me or if he actually believed the words coming out of his mouth.
I stared at him, my teeth gritted, my body still tense and ready to strike if needed. "So… why don't you answer my question, little witch?" he asked, his smirk never faltering, his voice carrying a mocking edge that made my blood boil. He was enjoying this. I could see it in the way his eyes glinted with amusement, the way he deliberately leaned in just a little closer, as if trying to make me crack.
"What question?" I spoke through clenched teeth, my patience already stretched thin, my muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. Every instinct I had screamed at me to stay on edge, to keep my guard up. There was something about him that made me feel like I was walking a razor's edge.
"Okay, I've asked a lot of questions," he admitted with a light chuckle, as if I hadn't been the one standing here with a weapon aimed at him. "So, first of all, do you know why I can't read your thoughts?" His expression was unreadable, his tone dangerously curious, as though he were probing for weaknesses, searching for something that might give him an edge. His gaze never left me, sharp and calculating, like a hawk eyeing its prey.
I rolled my eyes, the sarcasm practically dripping from my voice. "I don't know exactly, but it's something related to my parents. This is just one of the peculiarities that resulted from them having a daughter together." I kept the explanation vague, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing too much. I wasn't about to give away more than I had to, especially not to someone like him.
He bit his lip, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was trying to figure me out, trying to piece together some riddle that only he could see. And I hated it. I hated the way he looked at me like I was some puzzle to be solved, some mystery to unravel.
"Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself, as though the answer he had been searching for had just fallen into place. "So, you're the daughter of a rare combination, hm… this explains why your smell is so different from the other witches I've met." His eyes gleamed with something too knowing, something unsettling, as if he had uncovered some hidden truth, something about me that I didn't want him to know.
"I'm not interested in those things," I said flatly, my voice cold, trying to shut him down before he could delve deeper into whatever twisted game he was playing. The last thing I wanted was to indulge him, to make myself vulnerable to whatever he was trying to uncover.
He smiled wickedly, that same dark curiosity never leaving his eyes. "Once I can't read your mind, you can't be controlled. That's very interesting indeed," he mused, as if he were savoring the discovery. "I like peculiar things, and you're very peculiar to me right now. I'm Kai, by the way."
The way he said his name, as if I should be honored by the introduction, made my skin crawl. Ridiculous. "I don't care," I snapped, my voice harsh and cold. "And don't think I'll tell you my name, because that's never going to happen." I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing more about me, especially when I couldn't trust a single word that came out of his mouth.
Kai shrugged, still grinning at me, his gaze unwavering. He was completely unbothered, completely in control, and it made my blood boil. "You're savage, aren't you?" he said, his voice almost amused, as if my defiance was some sort of game to him. "I won't kill you just because you're a witch, you know that, right?"
His words were casual, too casual, like he wasn't even considering the fact that I was holding a weapon aimed at him. He looked at Nacht with a casual disinterest, as if wondering why I was still pointing it at him. It was as though my threat meant nothing to him.
"You didn't live so far from civilization, hiding away, fearing that just because we're fae, we would kill you because you're a witch, right?" His voice took on a mocking tone, his eyebrow arching as if the idea was laughable. "Cuz you heard somewhere that we, fae, hated witches?!"
My grip on the katana tightened even more, the muscles in my hand protesting from the strain. I wasn't going to let my guard down—not for him, not for anyone. "You're just trying to make me let my guard down," I said, my voice dripping with contempt, every word laced with bitterness. "So you'll try to kill me when I'm not on the defensive. I won't fall into your trap, you bastard."
His grin widened, teeth flashing in the dim light like a predator ready to strike. His eyes darkened with something I couldn't quite read, and for a moment, I thought he might actually make a move. But he didn't. He just stood there, staring at me with that calculating gaze, as though he were measuring my every breath, every move.
"Don't flatter yourself," he said with an arrogance that made my stomach churn. "You're not as clever as you think you are, little witch. But you are something… interesting." The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, and I hated how they made me feel. Like I was nothing more than a curiosity to him, a puzzle to be picked apart.
I didn't respond. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He was playing some twisted game, but I wasn't going to be his pawn. He continued, his voice low and almost reverent, as though I were some treasure he had just discovered. "There's just something about you, something I can't quite place, but it's there, lingering under the surface. You're not like the others, and I find that intriguing."
I hated every word of it. I hated how he made me feel like I was being examined, poked and prodded for his amusement. It made my skin crawl, and every part of me screamed to leave, to run away, but I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I had answers.
"I don't care what you think about me," I finally said, my voice cold as ice, my gaze locking onto his with a look so intense, so unwavering, that it could melt steel. Every word dripped with the force of the storm brewing in my chest. "But if you want to fight, just say the word. I'm not in the mood for games. So, do us both a favor, and stop wasting my time."
His chuckle was dark, laden with a warning that sent an electric jolt of unease down my spine. For a fleeting moment, I could feel the tension in the air like a living thing, and I wondered if this might be the moment where things would spiral beyond my control. But I held my ground, refusing to let any hint of vulnerability slip past my defenses.
"You're feisty," he said, his voice a mixture of amusement and something darker. The words were playful, but there was an underlying tone that made my skin crawl. "I like that. But you're still missing the point. You don't need to be afraid of me, little witch." His words slithered through the air like poison, smooth and insidious. "I'm not your enemy, unless you make me one."
His calm demeanor only served to fuel the fire within me. His words were a twisted blend of mockery and something far more dangerous, a chilling undertone that sent a shiver straight to my core. It wasn't the kind of threat I could easily shake off—it was the kind that left its mark, burrowing under my skin like a parasite.
That's when it hit me. The realization was sharp, like a blade slicing through the fog of tension hanging between us. I didn't trust him. Not one bit. Not an inch. The truth settled in my gut, a bitter, undeniable fact. This fae—Kai, as he'd introduced himself—was dangerous. In ways I couldn't even begin to comprehend. And whatever he was playing at, whatever game he was trying to set into motion, I was caught right in the middle of it.
But there was no way in hell I was going to show it. No way was I going to let him see how much his presence unnerved me. Not when I could feel the walls of my resolve slowly cracking under the weight of his gaze, his mocking smile, and the quiet menace in his every word.
"If you think I'm scared of you, you're delusional," I shot back, my voice biting, though my heart hammered in my chest. I was careful to keep my breathing steady, my stance firm. If he thought I was just some helpless witch toying with, he was in for a rude awakening. "I've dealt with worse than you."
His eyes flicked over me, unreadable, as though he was taking inventory of my every movement, every flicker of emotion. His lips twitched upward into that infuriating smile, a mix of admiration and challenge. "We'll see about that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were barely a threat, more of an invitation—an invitation to some twisted game that I wasn't sure I wanted to play.
The moment stretched, lingering like a charged wire ready to snap. I could feel the weight of his attention, how he was studying me, dissecting every reaction I had. I wasn't just some witch in his path—I was a puzzle to him, an anomaly to unravel. And the more I resisted, the more he seemed to enjoy it.
I clenched my fists tighter, trying to calm the rapid beat of my heart. "You're wasting your time," I said, my voice a little softer now, but still hard as stone. "I'm not interested in whatever game you think you're playing. I just want you to leave."
But he didn't budge. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he took a single step closer, his presence overwhelming, filling the space between us like a thick, suffocating fog. The silence that followed was thick with the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.
"You know," Kai said, his tone almost too casual, as if we were discussing the weather, "there's something about you that's different. It's not just your mind I can't read—it's the way you stand. The way you carry yourself. You're not like the others I've met. Not at all."
I didn't respond, but I felt the burn of his words. They weren't compliments, not by any means. They were observations—cold, calculated, and dissecting. But still, I didn't show him how much it rattled me.
"You're not even trying to hide it, are you?" he continued, as if he could read every flicker of irritation that crossed my face. "You don't trust me, do you? And I can see it in your eyes. The way you're watching me like I'm some kind of threat. It's cute."
I stood my ground, refusing to let his words worm their way under my skin. He wanted to get a rise out of me. He wanted me to slip, to make a mistake. But I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. Not now. Not ever.
But despite myself, my thoughts were running wild, a hundred scenarios playing out in my mind. What was he after? Why couldn't I read him? Why did he seem so hell-bent on provoking me, on pushing me to the edge?
"I don't care what you think about me," I repeated, my voice quiet but firm. "I know exactly what you want. You're just trying to mess with me. But I'm not playing along."
Kai's smile faded just slightly, but it wasn't enough to break the cold amusement in his gaze. He wasn't backing down, and I knew that meant this encounter was far from over. "You're smart," he said, the words like a compliment and a threat all at once. "But you'll have to be a hell of a lot smarter to get past me."
His words lingered in the air, a challenge I couldn't ignore. And as much as I wanted to turn my back and walk away, I knew I couldn't. Not yet. Not when I was so close to the truth. Not when I was tangled in whatever twisted web he was weaving.
But I also knew one thing for sure—I wasn't going to make it easy for him. Not for a second.
And if I was going to get out of this alive, I'd have to be smarter, faster, and a hell of a lot more dangerous than he could ever imagine. I wasn't about to let him pull me into his game. I'd play my own. And I'd make sure I was the one who walked away from this encounter in control.
But that didn't mean I was about to let my guard down. Not now. Not ever.