Bride of the Traitor (The Prophecy of Sisters #1) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,3

a scar that starts above his eye at the top of his forehead and travels down to the middle of his cheek, as if he was cut all the way down his face, over his eye. It’s sexy as shit. As is the week-old scruff he has on his face.

Licking my dry lips, my breath hitches when I see his steel-blue eyes focus on me. They aren’t just blue, they’re so bright blue that they are almost clear. It’s the most vibrant color I’ve ever seen.

“What is your name, witch?” he demands, looking directly at me.

I blink.

“Do you not understand Bunafian, witch? Your King demands an answer,” one of the other hot guys growls.

My gaze shifts to the woman with white hair and she only holds her hands up, which isn’t helpful at all. My breath starts coming out in pants as my heart starts to pound in my chest.

Holy fuck.

I’ve been kidnapped by cosplayer renaissance people.

“Name,” the super-hot rugged guy rumbles.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I inhale a deep breath before I speak. “Sybilla,” I whisper.

“You say you know not of how she arrived? Where she hails?” Super-Hot Rugged Guy asks, his eyes leaving mine to focus on the white-haired woman beside me.

“No, Your Majesty, she just appeared.”

“She is indecent. Are you a whore?” he asks, his chin dipping to me again.

I gasp at his question. “Absolutely not,” I snap. “How dare you.”

One of the men makes a whistling sound. Super-Hot Rugged Guy tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over me and suddenly my little pink and gray satin pajama shorts and tank top do seem rather indecent.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I try to hide the fact that I’m braless. His lips twitch at the move and he licks his bottom lip. “No need to hide your charms, witch. I’ve seen all you have to offer this moment.”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, asshole?”

All four men freeze. They stare at me as if they’re deer caught in headlights. I wait for them to rough me up, or yell at me, or call me a bitch or something, but they just stare.

“What did that mean, Aleida?” one of them asks.

She makes a noise. “I do not know. I have never heard those words before.”

Looking back at her, then swinging my gaze over to the men. “What do you mean you guys haven’t heard that phrase before. Man, you’re taking this shit seriously,” I murmur.

Super-Hot Rugged Guy takes a step forward and crouches down in front of me. His gaze is focused on mine, holding me hostage as he stares at me. My eyes break contact with his, traveling his scar as I lick my lips. I want to kiss that scar and I don’t know why.

“Put her next to my room,” he announces as he stands up. “Rowan, you and Henry will stand as her guard. Nobody goes in, or out, unless they are approved by me. And for the gods sakes cover her,” he snaps, his last words are on a roar and I yelp with a jump.

“Merek, put the witch in a cell until I know what kind of sorcery she’s created,” he snaps.

Two hot men make their way toward me and reach for my biceps. I expect their grips to be hard, unforgiving and bruising, but they aren’t. Instead, they are firm but gentle as they pull me up to my feet.

“Come with us, milady,” one of them murmurs.

Looking between them, feeling their hands on my skin, I realize that this isn’t a dream. The stone floor against my feet is undoubtedly real and if they’re into cosplay, they must have a fuck of a lot of money, because everything around me looks seriously legit.

“Where the hell am I?” I whisper.

One of the men looks down at me in a short glance before he continues to forge ahead. “You’re in Bunafi, milady.”

He says it matter-of-factly, as if he truly believes that’s where we are. I press my lips together, following them up a narrow, stone spiral staircase that opens up into a large hallway.

It’s here that I know without a doubt, these dudes have money. Serious money. They’re also fucking crazy.

There are tapestries on the walls. There are paintings and huge arched wooden doors at every single room we pass.

“Do you think he knows what he’s doing putting her in the Queen’s quarters?” one of the hot guys asks the other one.

One of them chuckles, his finger flexing against my bicep.