A Court of Curse and Roses; acotar

𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

There are drums, beating so loud and rapid that I can feel them in my bones. Past the drums, I hear screaming. Howling. Snarling. I breathe in and smell alcohol, blood, and fire. The ground is muddy; I have sunken into it. I fear I will be swallowed whole - right into the thicket of Hyberns war camp.

I muster my courage. I open my eyes.

As my eyes adapt to the severity of the fires that burn around me, I can just make out that we are in a dark meadow, with endless rows of filthy tents around us. Many of Hyberns beasts sit by the fires, sharpening their weapons, drinking and feasting. Others snarl and howl from the darkest, thickest parts of the war camp.

"So hungry," a voice hisses next to me.

I grimace as my eyes meet those belonging to a monster with rows of teeth. It snarls at me from inside its tent. I hear moaning and the beast snarls again before it tears into something. It looks back up at me, its hideous face covered in blood.

I stumble back and fall, my hands sinking into the mud.

Laughter erupts from behind me and I spin around in the mud. I crawl back in shock as I turn around and look up, and up. A large dais, with a throne sitting proudly in the middle, towers towards the dark sky. Smaller dias dot next to it and my eyes are immediately drawn to one.

Jurian sits there, his head leaning on his fist as he looks back at me with lazy, bored, brown eyes. My mouth parts in surprise, I didn't expect to see him so soon. But my gaze is soon interrupted as the person atop the throne stands, slowly. His face is full of dominance, of power.

The King of Hybern.

He smiles at us slowly and I notice that despite the armour his beasts wear, the King is dressed simply, in loose black clothing that matches his inky hair. His skin is ruddy and clean as if he is not standing in the middle of a war camp. I resent him.

A hand grips my arm and I'm yanked back up to my feet. Tamlin doesn't look at me as he drops my arm and hastily bows to the King.

"We came, as you asked," Tamlin says, his voice polite but curt. 

The King's smile widens, showing his teeth, his canines that are sharpened into two, deadly points, "Yes, thank you, Tamlin," he drawls.

He turns his attention away from the smouldering High Lord and settles his dark, questioning eyes on me.

"Hello Persephone," he murmurs, his voice ancient and wicked, "You're looking rather filthy. Do you need one of my beasts to help you out of those clothes?"

The camp erupts into shouts and hollers, a few beasts exclaiming their interest in the offer. Beside me, I feel Tamlin stiffen but he doesn't speak.

I snarl and open my mouth to reply, but someone does it for me.

Jurian sits up in his chair and stiffens a yawn, "Could we move past the introductions and pleasantries?" he sighs, "I'm tired and famished,"

The King slowly turns to face Jurian. I grimace, preparing for the King to strike the human down, but I'm surprised when he gives Jurian a slight smile.

"Alright, we will continue this discussion over dinner," the King declares, smirking as he turns back toward us, "You will be joining us, won't you Tamlin and Persephone?"

Tamlin nods, as if we ever had a choice in the matter, and looks at me. The King, followed by Jurian and a few other faes, walk around down the steps of the dias and towards a large tent. Tamlin takes my hand in his and we follow them into the ominous darkness of the tent.

I'm not surprised that the space inside is luxurious, dimly lit by a fire pit that sits in the middle of the tent. A long, wooden table sits behind the fire, with another, smaller throne at the head of it. The King of Hybern uses every opportunity to assert his dominance.