The corridors of Pan's palace seemed to stretch on endlessly as he led me back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the sconces illuminated our path, casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls. The air was thick with an unspoken tension.
As we entered the room and the door closed behind us with a soft click, a palpable sense of intimacy enveloped us. The lavish furnishings and regal décor seemed to fade into the background, leaving only Pan and me in this private sanctuary.
Pan turned to face me, his gaze intense and unwavering. His voice, when he spoke, was a low, measured murmur. "Did you overhear anything pertinent during the dinner?” he demanded.
I met his gaze, the weight of his question settling over me. The dinner had been a whirlwind of conversations, each laden with hidden agendas and veiled intentions. In this court of intrigue, every word and gesture held meaning, and it was clear that Pan was as much a player in this game as anyone else.
"I... I heard snippets of conversations," I admitted cautiously, choosing my words with care. “They discussed...Seraphina, of rumors.” I cleared my throat. “Rumors of an alleged affair between Seraphina and a guard."
A flicker of something crossed Pan's features—a subtle shift in his expression that was difficult to interpret. It was as if the mention of an affair had stirred a complex array of emotions within him.
"An affair?" Pan mused, his voice carrying a note of curiosity. "This is intriguing. Affairs among the Fae are not uncommon, but they are rarely spoken of openly."
I nodded, feeling the weight of the information I had gathered. "It seemed to be a well-known rumor among them," I added.
Pan's gaze seemed to sharpen, his thoughts turning inward. "Affairs can be powerful tools in the Fae court," he mused, more to himself than to me. "They can be used to gain influence, to manipulate...or to destroy." He cocked his head to the side. “Did they have a name?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything only because what if it wasn’t true? Would my words get this guard in trouble?
But what if it was true?
What if he had killed Seraphina?
As I watched him, I couldn't help but wonder about the intricacies of this world I had been thrust into—the web of relationships and secrets that lay beneath the surface. Seraphina's alleged affair was just one thread in a tapestry of mysteries, and I had the unsettling feeling that it was a thread that could unravel much more than it appeared.
Pan's gaze finally returned to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something that resembled a spark of intrigue. "Mortal," he said, his voice still low and measured, "keep your ears open. Affairs in the Fae court are rarely what they seem, and this particular rumor may hold clues that could prove useful."
The air was heavy with secrets, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation as I broached the subject that had been weighing on my mind.
"Pan," I began cautiously, my voice tinged with curiosity, "does it bother you that someone who was expected to be your wife was having an affair?"
Pan's gaze, those forest-green eyes that seemed to hold countless mysteries, turned towards me. His expression remained calm and composed, as if he had anticipated this question.
"Not in the least," he replied, his voice carrying an air of detachment. "Jealousy is a mortal emotion, and I am far from mortal."
I regarded him carefully, trying to understand the complexities of his response. "So, you wouldn't mind if your future wife had affairs?" I pressed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Pan's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "I would mind only if such affairs were indiscreet," he answered, his tone matter-of-fact. "In a marriage of obligation, emotions and desires often find their release elsewhere. It is a reality of our world."
I couldn't help but feel surprise at his candid response. In the world I had come from, such matters were often fraught with tension and heartache. But here it seemed that the rules were different, the boundaries more fluid.
"Then, your marriages are... arrangements of convenience?" I ventured, trying to grasp the essence of what he was telling me.
Pan nodded, his gaze never wavering. "Exactly," he affirmed. "A marriage of obligation, nothing more. The Fae court is a world of power, alliances, and secrets. Love, as mortals understand it, rarely plays a part."
“Well, it seems like your older brother didn’t get the memo,” I pointed out. “He’s clearly in love with Alice.”
Pan's reaction was immediate—a sneer of disgust that contorted his features. "My brother is a fool," he declared, his voice carrying a bitterness that surprised me. "He has allowed himself to be ensnared by the allure of a mortal."
I watched him carefully, noting the vehemence of his response. It was as if the mere mention of his brother's affection for Alice had struck a nerve, revealing a facet of Pan's character that I had not seen before.
"But," I ventured cautiously, "is it not possible that your brother has found something genuine, something worth cherishing in Alice?"
Pan's gaze turned towards me, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Love, mortal," he said, his voice dripping with cynicism, "is a weakness. It clouds one's judgment and binds them to the whims of the heart. I have no intention of following in my brother's foolish footsteps."
The words hung heavy in the air. Rumpelstiltskin, who had fallen in love with a mortal, and Pan, who regarded matters of the heart with a detached pragmatism.
“You know,” he said. “I should punish you for referring to me by my given name. You’re too familiar, mortal.”
“I am your pet,” I said with a wrinkle over my nose. “What do you expect?”
“Respect,” he said, stepping closer to me. “I tire of your insolence.”
The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as Pan's admonishment hung between us, a palpable reminder of the boundaries that separated us in this intricate dance of power and desire.
I watched as he took a step closer, his movements deliberate and filled with a potent allure. His eyes, those captivating emerald pools, held mine hostage, and I found myself unable to look away. The delicate balance of our roles was shifting, teetering on the edge of something unspoken and forbidden.
"Respect," he repeated, his voice a low, commanding murmur that sent shivers down my spine. "It is a concept you seem to struggle with, mortal."
I felt a surge of defiance rise within me, a reckless impulse that compelled me to challenge the boundaries that bound us. "And what if I don't wish to show you respect, Pan?" I countered, my voice edged with a hint of daring.
What the hell was I doing?
Pan's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile, a spark of something dangerous glinting in his eyes. He moved closer still, until there was barely a breath of space between us. His presence enveloped me, a heady mix of power and allure that left me breathless.
"Then," he whispered, his words a seductive promise, "we will have to find another way to maintain the balance of power between us."
In that moment, the world seemed to blur around us, and the boundaries that had once seemed so rigid began to dissolve. I could feel the pull of something undeniable—a magnetic attraction that transcended the roles we were meant to play.
The room itself seemed to hold its breath, bearing witness to a dance of desire and danger that was as intoxicating as it was perilous. In this world of secrets and intrigue, where every action carried weight and every glance held hidden meaning, the line between captor and captive had never been more blurred.
As Pan's gaze bore into mine, I couldn't help but wonder if the punishment he had alluded to was not a threat but a promise—a promise of a world where the rules were of our own making, and where the boundaries between us were meant to be crossed.
The room seemed to shrink around us as Pan's proximity intensified, and the air grew thick with a heady mix of tension and desire. His presence was overwhelming, and I struggled to maintain my composure, my heart beating a rapid rhythm in my chest.
"What," I began, my voice coming out in a breathless whisper. “What... what should we do about the rumors of the affair? About Seraphina?”
His gaze never wavered from mine, and his lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. It was as if he reveled in the effect he had on me, in the way he could render me flustered and vulnerable with a mere glance.
"We’ll have to question him, of course," he mused, his voice a low, seductive purr. "But I need to focus on selecting a wife, all while attempting to solve who’s been trying to kill me." He gave me a look. “Besides you, of course.”
I frowned, struggling to make sense of his response. "But if they are true," I pressed, "if Seraphina truly had an affair with Thorne, then what does that mean?”
“It could mean that Thorne is a silly, jealous man and didn’t want to see his lover with me,” he said. “Or it could mean something else, something more sinister.”
“You still think it’s the Mad Mage,” I said. “But, if that’s the cae, why kill Seraphina?”
“Perhaps the kill was meant for me,” he said. “But you were a distraction. An unexpected presence. Perhaps her death is a warning to me, a punishment to her for being here. Anything, really, could explain her death. We simply need to know why.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We need to know who and then we’ll figure out the motives.”
“Scared, mortal?” he asked, his eyes scanning my face.
I didn’t even realize my fingers had been clenched into fists until I released my hold on them.
I said nothing. I wasn’t sure if I should be scared, truth be told. Was I a target? Was I simply possible collateral damage?
I didn’t know.
The world I had entered was a treacherous one, where every alliance and betrayal held the potential to reshape the balance of power. It was a world where love and desire were entangled with secrets and consequences.
Pan's fingers brushed against my cheek, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down my spine. "For now," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin, "we shall observe, my dear. We shall watch and listen, and we shall learn the truth behind the rumors. And when the time is right, we will decide how to act. But we cannot show fear.”
I nodded, his words settling over me like a veil of uncertainty.
The air between us crackled.
As Pan continued to study me, I couldn't help but wonder about him. In his eyes, I could see glimpses of a deeper complexity, a web of desires and ambitions that remained hidden beneath the surface.
“Turn around," he said suddenly, his voice low and authoritative.
“Why?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed, a warning.
I wanted to fight with him, to demand an explanation, but I thought better of it. I obeyed, hating the way my cheeks flushed as I complied.
He stepped closer, so close I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck.
I ignored the heaviness that settled in my lower stomach, ignored the goosebumps that littered my skin, ignored the pounding of my heart.
The subtle rustling of fabric filled the room as Pan's fingers slowly worked at the laces of my dress. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.
“What are you –”
“Hush.” His lips caressed the shell of my ear and my core throbbed with –
I squeezed my thighs together.
I refused to think about what any of it meant, cursing my traitorous body for being so damn easy.
As the dress slowly loosened, he stepped back, allowing me some semblance of privacy to remove it completely. I felt exposed, vulnerable in the dimly lit room, but there was no denying the undercurrent of desire that lingered in the air.
Once the dress had been set aside, Pan's voice again broke the silence, his words both authoritative and inviting. "Change, mortal," he said. “There’s a nightgown on the bed.”
His tone left no room for argument.
I didn’t hesitate. I left the entrance and made my way to the bed. The silk was soft to touch. I took the dress and moved behind a changing shade, tucked in the corner of the room. I tried to go as fast as I could without tripping and falling, something difficult to do with the layers of the dress. However, after a couple of hops and muttered curses, I finally managed to slip into the soft, silk nightgown that had been provided for me. The fabric clung to my skin, the pink a surprising color that complimented my skin well.
When I stepped from behind the wall, Pan's gaze lingered on me, his eyes dark with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine.
The room seemed to pulse with the weight of our unspoken desires as Pan's gaze held mine, and in that moment, I couldn't help but wonder where this forbidden dance would lead us next.
And why I even cared.
“To bed, mortal,” he said, nodding at the only bed in the room.
And I realized then that he meant for me to sleep there.
With him.