Rebecca woke up in a dizzying panic, heart constricting in her chest. The first thing she realised was that she was lying on cold floor. Then she realised, despite her efforts, seeing anything was impossible. She was surrounded by darkness.

Arms weak underneath her, she tried to push herself up. Her head was pounding, worse than any migraine she'd ever had. In a panic, she felt around her, feeling nothing but cold, rough floor. She got on her hands and knees crawling weakly — cautiously — around her.

Since her sight was gone, she tried to hone in on her other senses. She couldn't smell anything but bleach, so pungent she almost gagged. Reaching out to touch her surroundings was just proving futile. Tasting anything wasn't an option.

Rebecca went with the only sense that would help her. All around her was white noise — she couldn't hear a thing. No footsteps. No talking. Not even the scurry of a mouse. What she could hear, however, was her heavy breathing so loud it echoed.

Terror gripped her, hard and fast, as she thought back on how she'd gotten here. The Fae portal with Mikael. Walking out after seeing his wings. Then being ambushed from behind by nameless faces. Mikael had been left behind.

Was he okay? she thought, clutching to the hope that he was okay desperately. They'd caught him, she had no doubt. If two of them had attacked her, someone weak and defenceless compared to them, how many of them had gone after Mikael? Four? Five?

What were they going to do with him? More importantly, what were they going to do with her? With both of them?

She couldn't even begin to puzzle together what they'd want with her. She had nothing to offer them. She hadn't even found out she was a Faery until a week ago. If they wanted her powers, they were sorely mistaken.

In the darkness, she shook her head. Already, she was getting way too far ahead. This wasn't one of the novels she'd read before. There was no ransom or stealing powers. This was real — as farfetched as it all was.

Rebecca reached out a hand, gripping whatever was in her hand almost desperately. It felt like metal, thin metal that was freezing to the touch—

"—I can't see a thing," a voice whined, sounding as if it was right behind her. It sounded masculine, though they clearly hadn't hit puberty yet.

Rebecca froze, holding her breath for dear life, praying they wouldn't hear her. Didn't know she was here.

"Don't touch the lights," another (deeper) voice snapped, and she heard what sounded like a slap. "His Grace said to leave them off, so did the General. The last time someone disobeyed a direct order they were left to rot in a cell for six years. No food. Nothing but torture every day. I don't want to join them."

"His Grace will understand," the whiny voice whispered. "How are we supposed to do it, if we can't see?"

Rebecca listened as their footsteps neared her, trying to track down where they were. There couldn't be any more than two of them. That wasn't reassuring in the slightest, even if she was right and there were two of them.

"The King will kill you on the spot. If he doesn't, the General will."

"I'm not scared of the General. He's just the King's lapdog. His Grace says jump, he asks how high."

"Are you stupid?" the one with the deep voice hissed. "If they hear you saying that—"

She heard one of them scoff, his voice nowhere near as deep as the others, almost a sound of disbelief. "They won't kill me. How long has His Grace been trying to get her? He'll be kissing my feet for finding her."

Again came the deep baritone, as he bit out, "The King doesn't kiss anyone's feet and you know it."

There was a loud sigh. "He will. Where is she anyway? I want this done. His Grace said I'd have to patrol the streets tonight; I don't want to be here any longer than I have to."

Rebecca heart stopped beating, freezing out of fear so palpable it was paralysing. They were talking about her.

Suddenly light flooded the room. Rebecca shut her eyes to ward off the harshness, so bright it momentarily blinded her.

"What did you do that for? She wasn't supposed to know where she was!"

"I couldn't see!"

"That was the point, you idiot! She wasn't supposed to see either!"

Rebecca ignored them, staying where she was — uncaring of how she looked to them, considering they'd kidnapped her. They could see her now, she knew it. As subtly as she could, she sneaked a glance where she was, looking for an escape route.

Everything looked golden. The walls were a deep brass colour, extending more than ten metres high. Like the caves, every inch of the walls were carved, either with words or a detailed image. In the middle of the roof was a large glass dome, more than five metres wide. Because of it, excessive amounts of light flooded the room.

Absently, she noted it was day time, something that was going to work in her favour. If she was going to make any attempt at escaping, she had to be able to see where she was going.

Slowly, Rebecca looked around the lower half of the room. In front of her was the largest room she'd ever seen in her life. It had to be the size of a whole house, if not three. The floor was white and pristine, almost as clear as glass. The space was empty, two tall iron doors wide open.

She glanced underneath her, polished concrete catching her eye. She was on the top platform, four steps leading up to the top. It was a dais. With trepidation she turned her eyes to behind her. Along the very back wall was a glass mural, winged figures flying around. It was elaborate.

It was only then that she noticed the throne. It was awe-inspiring, breathtaking. The back of it was thick, the top ending in spikes that looked sharp enough to pierce a lot more than skin. From the front, she could see shapes poking out from the back. Squinting, she noticed they were a pair of golden wings, so large they extended at least two metres into the air. The seat had two raised arms rests. All of it was covered in engravings.

Off to the side, she noticed a door, ajar. That, she realised, was her escape route. She didn't know where it lead to but she didn't care. Given the chance, she was going to make a run for it.

If she could.

Without moving her body, her eyes flickered to her arms and legs. There were no shackles around her wrists or ankles. No restraints whatsoever. She couldn't believe her luck. Did they assume she wouldn't take the chance? That she'd let them kidnap her without trying to escape?

Rebecca poised, ready to lift up and take off. There were pillars around the huge room, going from the top to the bottom of the room. They were so wide behind one easily. Behind the dais and the huge throne, six of them lined the back wall.

She froze when another voice joined the mix, this is one familiar.

"I'd like to know you two are doing," the voice growled, loud around the room, sounding distinctly like a pair of heavy boots.

Rebecca, too afraid to find the answer of who it was, didn't look in the direction. She saw the two who had been in the room before freeze, both of them swallowing loudly. They were on the right side of the room, both wearing dark uniforms. Black sweatpants and a heavy leather jacket, with a large stripe going from their left shoulder to their right. On it was some sort of crest.

They looked young, a little older than her, a light dusting of facial hair on their chins. They scowled darkly. The one on the right was shorter, his hair almost white. The other towered, his hair long and black.

Both of them froze, standing straight and turning in a sharp circle, until they faced towards the two large doors, as their hands clenched into a fists over their chests. Like she'd seen soldiers do on TV.

There was a silence, dark and heavy, that filled the whole room. The boots echoed heavily again and Rebecca heart hammered in her chest. Praying no one was looking at her, she crawled slowly, without making a single sound, behind the throne. Though it seemed like forever, she knew it was only a few seconds before she was successfully hiding. When she could breathe easier, she risked peeking her out the side of the chair.

She should've ran, she knew, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. She had to find out if it was him. He wasn't the only one to wear those boots; she was just jumping to conclusions.

"I won't repeat myself," the new arrival snapped.

The dark haired one stepped forward. Rebecca could see the hesitancy in the way his foot was tapping nervously on the tiles. When he spoke his voice shook. "Sir, uh . . . His Grace said to come in here—"

"Were you not ordered to keep the lights off?" he bit out.

This time, White hair stepped up. "Sir, we couldn't see. Everything was fine. His Grace gave the orders, we're only following them."

"By doing the opposite of the orders given? Look around, where is she?"

Rebecca didn't want any time; ducking back around so she was hidden. She realised her mistake too late. In the time they'd been arguing, she could've made her break, running for it. Now they were going to look for her.

Dark Hair spoke, voice trembling. "General, sir . . . she was here . . . I could see her, sir—"

"Then where is she now?"

There was a long pause, before one of them spoke. "Sir, she's here."

"Then show me where she is."

"She's . . . somewhere, sir."

"Give me one good reason not to kill you on the spot. You went against orders. And now she's gone."

The silence grew thick. Rebecca didn't breathe, terrified they'd hear her. When they went off to look for her, she'd run to the door. Without hesitation.

She heard someone swallow loudly, before Dark Hair spoke, "She's not gone sir. We'll find her, General. I swear."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go before the King finds out you lost her. And shut the door behind you."

There was a rush of footsteps, running in the opposite direction, along with incoherent mumbles. Then the two large doors slammed shut. Rebecca's heart was hammering in her chest as she heard them leave. She crouched behind the chair, willing her legs to move when she wanted them to. Fear had locked them in place—

"I know you're there. You might as well come out."

God, the voice was so familiar. Eerily so. Rebecca remained hidden, frozen with fear. He was still in the room. He had to be bluffing.

"If you haven't figured it out yet, I underestimated how smart you were. Go ahead, Rebecca, look. I know you're hiding behind the throne."

Rebecca. He knew her name. The voice. The boots. Knowing her name. It all added up.

The taunts continued. "I know you want to know. So quit hiding. Otherwise, I'll come to you."

Indecision warred. She wanted to check, find out if it was him. But she was terrified and she had to escape. Revealing herself wouldn't be smart.

She heard his footsteps move closer, and her heart seized. "Rebecca, I hate waiting."

Frantically, she glanced to the small door. She could make a run for it, then brave the rest.

Before she could consider the consequences, Rebecca made a run for it. She sprinted, ignoring the pain that shot up her legs. The door was close, ajar. She ignored everything but making it to safety—

Rebecca froze, her body stilling. She tried to move, but found that she couldn't. Her body wouldn't respond.

There was a sigh right behind her and she squeezed her eyes shut, when she felt breath fan across the back of her neck. "Rebecca, I gave you too much credit. Running wasn't smart."

It sounded like him. There was no difference. Rebecca shook her head in denial.

"You can't move even if you try. If you look at me, I can explain all of this."

Resigned, Rebecca slowly turned her head. Blue eyes met hers. Black hair. Dark, brooding face. Without warning, her breath started coming rushed and uneven, as she tried her hardest to deny what he saw.

There was no way Mikael was staring back at her.

Rebecca shook her head in denial.

"And she's figured it out," she heard him mutter under his breath.

Rebecca opened her eyes. Mikael still stared back at her, smirking. "How?" she whispered, voice barely above a whisper.

She saw him, move until he was right in front of her. "Oh, it was easy. I gained your trust. The King's been looking for you since you were born seventeen years ago. I found you, brought you here."

"It was all a lie," she whispered bitterly, self-loathing kicking in. She'd known it was too good to be true and she'd fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

Mikael raised an eyebrow in response. "Not all of it. I didn't lie about my name. The necklace you threw in a river was my grandmothers. I'm Fae. You're Fae. I'm not seventeen, I'm sixty three."

"You're sixty three?" she whispered in shock.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes. I stopped aging." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought you'd be smarter than this, Rebecca."

She felt stupid for not seeing it all as a lie. "Who are you really?" she bit out.

Mikael stared at her, standing taller. "I'm second-in-command to King Enriguel the second. General Bertoz to the soldiers — two of whom you just met. They're not all idiots," he announced, voice proud. She glanced down at him. He wore loose black pants, heavy boots, and the same jacket the others had worn. She could make out the crest now — a pair of black wings, words in another language along the outline.

Rebecca gaped at him. "You're serious," she whispered in shock, because he thought he was.

"After all of this, you're asking me if I'm serious."

Rebecca forgot how to breathe, as she gaped at Mikael. "You're second-in-command to a king?" she whispered.

"And you're a queen."

This time, Rebecca laughed — a sound of disbelief. "I'm a queen? You're hilarious, Mikael, really."

He just raised an eyebrow. "It's not like any of us can prove it to you. You'll be dead before you believe it anyway."

All humour fled, mind-numbing fear taking its place. "What?" she whispered, voice cracking.

"The King is going to kill you before you can take the throne," Mikael said, voice carefully blank.

"What?" she repeated, hands growing clammy. Kill her? That was barbaric, disgusting. "Why? I'm no one."

"You're the heir to the throne he wants to take over."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Rebecca couldn't believe it had taken her this long. The whole thing, from meeting her the first time, to now, had been one ploy to gain her trust because of his agenda. The war between the Fae hadn't ended. It was still going.

Mikael hadn't taken her to the realm of the Light Fae. He'd taken her into the Dark Fae realm where he was the king's second-in-command. The ambush hadn't been random, they'd known where she was and when they'd get there. Mikael had been in contact with them the whole time.

And now they were going to kill her because she was the heir to the throne of the Light Fae.

Her life had turned into an overdramatic novel — it was official.

"It's was all a set up," she snapped. "I have parents and I don't even know them. And now I'll never get to."

"You did have parents. Your father died in a plane crash. Your mother was terminally ill and she lost the fight."

Tears stung her eyes. Her parents had been there all along and she hadn't know. And it was too late to even see them because they were buried in the ground.

The dream came to the forefront of her panicked mind. The woman in the ornate coffin had been her mother. A tear fell down her cheek.

"You killed them," she accused bitterly.

Mikael shrugged indifferently. The cold, blank look in his eyes disgusted her. "Your father's plane didn't crash at random. A bomb was planted in the back of the plane. Your mother was supposed to be on the plane. She wasn't."

"You killed my father," Rebecca snapped. Her biological father.

Mikael grinned maliciously, leaning forward. "And now we're going to kill you."

Rebecca heart clenched in fear. "I hate you," she spat, voice quivering.

"Do I look like I care?" he returned, voice detached. "I'm loyal to my King. I follow orders. The orders were to get you here. You were the one that made it easy."

"Adam," she bit out. "You planned that too."

He shook his, showing a sign of emotion for the first time since he'd revealed everything — frustration. "No. The idiot had one job. Watch you, make sure you didn't do anything drastic, like the good little solider he is. But he pissed you off and you sent him flying into a wall. Then you brought him back. Now, he's loyal to you; your little soldier."

She'd sent him flying into the brick wall? Her? It all made sense — she'd been the only one there. At the time, she'd been too in denial to see it.

He and Mikael had worked together; she realised it now, wondering why she hadn't seen it. When Adam had approached her with the cigarette, Mikael had turned up and Adam had scampered away with his tail between his legs.

Mikael leant in close. "It's all making sense now, isn't it? It's too bad it's too late—"

"Mikael," came a deep voice.

Rebecca watched in fascination as Mikael turned away from her, dropping to one knee effortlessly. She didn't even hear his knee collide with the ground. His head bowed. She was so shocked, she almost missed the whispered, "Your Grace."

So this was the king. Rebecca glanced over at him. He wore a pair of loose dress pants, and a button up shirt, both a deep, rich shade of red. Over his shoulders, dragging along the tiled floor, was a black cape. His face was old and haggard, brown eyes dull. He looked battle worn, hands scarred. No hair covered the top of his bald head, but his beard was bordering on overgrown.

He wasn't what she'd been expecting, that was for sure. He wasn't even wearing a crown.

His eyes went to Mikael who remained kneeling. Rebecca moved her left leg as subtly as she could. It moved.

Then she took her chance, making a dash for the small door, while they were both distracted. As she closed in on the distance she heard shouts behind her. They spurred her on, even as her heart hammered in her chest.

Booted footsteps echoed loudly behind her and she dove for the door. It flung open as her weight collided with it and she felt her shoulder jar. The pain was quickly forgotten as her survival instincts took over.

"Guards! Get her!"

Rebecca didn't waste any time with looking where she was. She found the nearest door, a small one towards the bottom off the room and ran for it. Her shoulder collided first, before she felt her whole body slide through. Then she was going down.

Rebecca prayed they didn't find her.

Thankfully, luck seemed to be on her side.