The Triplet Alphas' Curse: Rejected by the Wolfless Luna.

Pain woke her. She had passed out when Morrigan toyed with her for a couple of minutes with dark magic.

Aire opened her eyes slowly and immediately regretted it. Every part of her body hurt.

Her wrists burned. Her shoulders ached. Her ribs felt bruised, and even breathing seemed like work.

For a long moment she simply lay there, staring upward.

The ceiling above her was made of cold cracked black stone.

Aire frowned.

She sat upright immediately, but that was a mistake, as pain shot through her body.

Aire hissed and grabbed her side.

The movement caused mud to squelch beneath her.

Mud.

Aire froze.

Slowly, she looked down. The floor wasn’t made of stone, wood, or even dirt. The floor was mud.

Dark wet mud.

The entire cell floor was covered in it.

Aire stared at it, then she laughed once.

A short disbelieving sound left her lips. This was what her foolish acceptance to a little girl had brought her to.

They threw her into the mud.

Why wouldn’t they?

She looked around.

The cell was small. There was not even a window, and she doesn’t even know how she would figure these out. The realization settled heavily inside her chest.

Nobody even knew where she was.

Nate.

The thought struck so hard she had to close her eyes. For one terrible second she reached for the bond again.

Nothing answered. Not even a flicker of warmth, or comfort. Nate was absent, as if he never existed.

The same thing happened when she tried to reach for Alaric and Xanden.

Their absence hurt more than the bruises.

Aire swallowed hard. Her lips quickened, as she tried to hold back her grief. If someone had told her this would ever happen, she would have cursed the person, for trying to frame a child.

Then she heard a deep hollow voice.

”You’re awake.”

Aire’s eyes snapped open.

Someone stood outside the bars.

A man, very large.

Aire stared at him, then blinked. She stared at him again.

The fae looked as though somebody had taken every ridiculous story ever written about beautiful immortals and decided reality should suffer for it.

His golden hair fell carelessly around his face with enough disorder to look intentional.

His skin was bronzed, and his shoulders were broad. Far broader than any fae had a right to possess.

He wore absolutely nothing above the waist, showing off the sculptured perfection he possessed.

Aire immediately wished he would put on a shirt. Not because she was embarrassed, but because it felt aggressive.

His chest was covered in old scars of brutal lines crossing golden skin.

His stomach tightened into hard muscle before disappearing beneath a dark wrap tied loosely around his waist.

The wrap was far too loose for him to stand comfortably outside with just that on. The fabric sat low enough to reveal the sharp lines of his hips.

Aire looked away immediately.

The man grinned. ”Good morning.” His hollow voice met her ears again. He sounded so flat, and detached, yet his face said otherwise.

Aire looked back at him. ”You’re naked.” She pointed out, as though he wasn’t already aware.

His grin widened. ”I am not.”

Aire turned back to him, furious. ”You are considerably closer to naked than any stranger should be.” She snapped, irritated.

She moaned lightly in pain because of how quickly she had turned her head. What had Morrigan done to her?

The fae laughed.

The sound echoed through the corridor. His laugh sounded cheerful.

Aire narrowed her eyes, not caring if he would punish her for it.

The man leaned against the bars. His muscles flexed as he moved. ”I like you.” He hummed this time.

Aire sighed. ”That makes one of us.” She replied, her voice empty as she stared straight ahead now.

His laughter grew louder. ”Oh, Morrigan wasn’t exaggerating.”

Aire’s stomach tightened.

The fae extended a hand through the bars. ”Lysander.”

Aire stared at his hand, then stared at him. She looked at the hand again. She turned away from him, and looked ahead.

He waited.

Aire didn’t move.

Eventually he lowered it. He cleaned his hand on the wrap around his waist, and shrugged. ”That was rude.”

Aire eyes watered. The rim of her eyes reddened immediately. ”You kidnapped me.” She managed to whisper.

”I wasn’t involved in that part.”

Aire continued staring ahead, out of the dark cage. ”You belong to the people who kidnapped me.”

”That is technically true.”

”Then I feel comfortable remaining rude.”

Lysander looked delighted.

Most sane people disliked being insulted. This man seemed entertained by it.

”Well,” he said. ”Morrigan sent me.”

Aire sniffed, and made herself comfortable on the mud, while she waited for what he had to say, with no interest in her expression.

Lysander placed a hand dramatically over his heart. ”You wound me.”

Aire looked at his chest. Seeing no new scar there from whatever wound he claimed she gave to him, she looked ahead again without a word.

He laughed again.

”Morrigan wants you in the gardens.” He finally informed.

Aire blinked.

Silence followed his words. Then more silence.

Lysander waited.

Aire stared at him, like he had lost his mind. When he didn’t try to correct himself, and blinked, and finally, she said, ”The gardens.”

”Yes.”

”The gardens.” She repeated.

”Correct.”

Aire frowned. ”The outdoor gardens?” She asked now.

Lysander nodded.

”The ones containing plants.”

He gave her another nod.

Aire stared at him as though he had completely lost his mind beyond fixing. She does not object to gardening, but this doesn’t make sense.

She had expected torture, interrogation, exection, or something else from not bowing too their ruler, and for whatever sick reason she was kidnapped here.

Not gardening.

Aire looked around the muddy cell, then back at him. For some reason, she looked back to the cell, then back at him again.

”You crossed realms.” She glared at him, her teeth gritting together in hate. ”You infiltrated a kingdom....” she paused, and swallowed. She parted her lips to speak again, but couldn’t find the words.

Rather, she felt a lump in her throat, and a reason for her tears to finally drop. She sniffed, and finally, she found her words. ”...you impersonated a child for ten years—”

Lysander looked impressed. He cut her off, impatient to speak. ”When you say it all together it sounds quite dramatic.”

Aire went on, like he didn’t just speak. ”And after all that...” she gestured around helplessly. ”...you require gardening assistance?”

Lysander bit down on a laugh.

Aire wasn’t finished. ”Are there truly no gardeners in this realm...” she paused, looked around mockingly, and went on. ”or whatever this is?”

”No.”

He took no offense, and stared at her now, waiting for her to comply.

Aire continued. ”You kidnapped the wrong woman.” She said, now sounding hollow, as she returned to looking ahead.

Lysander’s cheerful expression disappeared for a minute. He clenched his fist, still waiting for her to comply. ”I don’t think we did.” He turned down firmly.

Are shrugged her shoulders, and drew her legs to herself. ”No,” she refused. ”I’m quite certain you did.” The pain in her arm sharpened, but she refused to take that as a reminder, and not put this dipshit in his place.

Lysander folded his arms. ”And why is that?”

Aire pointed at herself, still not turning to face him. ”Because if your realm’s greatest crisis is a shortage of gardeners, then surely there are easier solutions available.”

For a moment he simply stared at her. However, he threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed mockingly, and the sound came straight from his stomach.

Aire swallowed, and rolled her eyes. She pressed her thumb on her index finger, trying to calm herself.

She needed a drop of tears to leave her eyes, and she’d felt alright. However, she can’t let that happen.

She had let someone trim her hair without knowledge of what her hair could do. She doesn’t want to find out what her tears would be able to do.

Even if her tears can never be used against her, she refuses to let them spill freely.

Also, this shirtless lunatic found her amusing. That felt like another problem she didn’t need.

Eventually Lysander straightened. His voice hardened. ”Come on.”

”No.” Aire refused immediately

He blinked.

Aire repeated herself, in case he did not hear her the first time. ”I said no.”

Lysander stared at her hard.

Aire stared back at him.

Finally, he sighed. ”Oh. You genuinely don’t understand.”

Aire’s stomach tightened.

His voice had changed. The amusement remained yet something colder sat beneath it now.

Lysander stepped closer to the bars.

The corridor seemed darker suddenly.

”Morrigan wasn’t giving you a choice.” He warned her with a growl.

The words settled heavily between them.

Aire felt her pulse quicken.

For the first time since arriving, Lysander’s smile finally looked dangerous, no longer hiding a pretentious personality.

Aire swallowed.

Lysander’s golden eyes held hers. ”Stand up now.”

Silence stretched between them. Aire chest heaved harder. She swallowed, and the face of Marsili flashed before her eyes.

”Now.” Lysander’s voice brought her back to reality. He stepped aside from the cell door, and opened it.

”Are you walking to the gardens?” He asked. His smile widened. ”Or shall I carry you there?”

Aire immediately hated both options.