Trapped Read online

  Trapped

  Jessica Lynch

  Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Lynch

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Jessica Lynch

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  A Note From Jessica

  Pre-Order Now

  Tricked

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  Stay in Touch

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Lynch

  Foreword

  Trapped is the first in a trilogy (plus a prequel novella) that features a human who accidentally finds her way into Faerie—and, in quick order, lands herself in the infamous Faerie prison, Siúcra. Imprisoned by the Fae is also the second series in my ongoing Fae universe.

  If you’ve read the Touched by the Fae series that’s already been released, this takes place in the same world—and features one of the main characters from that series as the hero in this trilogy. You don’t need to have read that series before this one; though it’s a spin-off, using the same world and the same established rules, Imprisoned by the Fae is a stand-alone series. However, you will know more about Rys going into this if you’ve read those books.

  So, just in time for this book to be released, I made the entire Touched by the Fae series available as a bundle: The Shadow Prophecy. Of course, you can always start with the first full-length book, Asylum, if you’d like. As noted above, it’s not necessary, but there are a few nods to the other series and the events that took place. Plus, Nine and Riley will eventually make an appearance throughout Elle and Rys’s story :)

  Happy reading, and I hope you enjoy the first book is this new series!

  xoxo,

  Jessica

  1

  These cuffs are super heavy.

  They’re made of iron. Of course they are. I’m at the mercy of the fae, a prisoner of the Seelie Court, and iron is one of the only things that can hold any of the magical races here. From goblins to redcaps, sprites to the Seelie themselves, the iron saps their strength and makes them easy to contain.

  I’m not magic. I don’t have a drop of power in me. I’m just an idiot human who made a wrong turn while walking through her local park and stupidly walked right through a fairy circle. Trapping me in these cuffs is overkill, but tell that to the fae guard marching me down the open hallway that leads me right inside of Siúcra, the infamous Faerie prison.

  My new home.

  And if I think the cuffs are bad? The pointy, glowing diamond-edge sword at my back is ten times worse.

  The guard can’t touch me. Not with his bare skin at least. I learned that one the hard way. As a Seelie, one of the high fae races that rule over Faerie, he literally can’t touch me unless I give him permission to. One stolen caress and his perfect bronze skin will look like someone’s dipped it into a fryer.

  As a human, it’s the only power that I have. I can’t compel anyone, I can’t create portals on a whim, I can't fly. I don’t have any super strength, like the trolls do, and while I can lie, I can’t see how that’s a plus. But I’m a rare unclaimed human in a world where that means something to the race in charge, and while my skin is a lure and a temptation to the fae, they can’t touch me without causing themselves terrible pain if I don’t actually let them.

  Then again, he can run me through with his sword if I so much as blink funny, so it’s not like my “power” really means diddly squat. When I’m a Helen-kabob, it doesn’t matter if I give him permission. He can touch me because I'll be dead.

  I’d like to avoid both of those happening if I can.

  I made it this long, right? Through being poisoned, then captured, then sold to a Seelie noble who didn’t like being told no, I’m still standing. They haven’t broken me yet.

  Unfortunately, something tells me that they’re just getting started.

  They… in this case, I mean the fae guards who are responsible for bringing me here. Though, after all I’ve been through lately, the guards are just the last link in a super shitty chain that began when I brilliantly thought it might be a good idea to play around with a fairy circle.

  There were three of them when I was arrested, one called ‘Captain’ and his two sidekicks. Then the one in charge realized that it didn’t take that many guards to transport little ol’ me and he stuck me with Bram.

  I didn’t mind Bram too much. I work in retail so I get the whole ‘he’s just doing his job’ thing. He fed me, gave my privacy when I had to use the little girl’s bush, and if it sucks that he kept me locked in the back of the caravan wearing these cuffs for three days while we traveled from Lord Veron’s palace to Siúcra, well, I get it.

  Technically, I am a prisoner. If I could figure out how to get out of here, I’d definitely be a flight risk. All I’ve done since I found myself in Faerie is try to escape it. Keeping me in irons, locked behind bars… smart.

  It’s been ten days already. Ten days since I stormed out on my boyfriend, took a walk into the park by my apartment to cool off, and kind of, sort of waltzed right through a fairy circle.

  Ten looooong days since I crossed the veil into Faerie.

  It feels like a lifetime. Now that I’ve been sentenced to a stay inside of Siúcra, it might just turn into a lifetime.

  I don’t know about you, but when I think of “fairy jail”, I think of something totally different than what I’m looking at right now. In a world where there are enchanted gardens with trees made of crystal, a magenta sky, and grass that looks like light blue cotton candy, I was expecting a little… more.

  Faerie is… it’s hard to explain. When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me all kinds of fantastical stories about a magical world in another realm. She called it Faerie, said it was across the veil, and it was the home to every creature in every myth and legend ever written or told. Elves, fairies, trolls, gnomes, redcaps, water sprites… the list goes on and on.

  I had an idea of it in my head. I grew up on a bunch of fantasy films, including some that were popular when my mom was a teen. Labyrinth was one. Willow was another. The Neverending Story. Princess Bride. To me, Faerie was some kind of amalgamation of those movies, plus classics like The Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland thrown in for a little extra flavor.

  And it’s kind of like that. Between the magic everywhere and the traps, plus the foliage that just convinces you you’re in another world, it’s definitely nothing like the city where I was born and raised.

  Of course, then I actually ended up in this crazy place and, since then, I’ve gotten a crash course in just how different Faerie is from all of my expectations.

  The jail, though? Earlier, Bram led me through the gates and into the back entrance, right into the first row of packed cells. And, okay. I’ve never been in jail before. But I watch a crapton of TV with Jim and he gets a kick out of prison shows. I know what to expect.

  It’s kind of like what I’m looking at now.

  Not the prison guard, though. Only one of them comes out to meet Bram and me. And maybe I’ve gotten used to what the Seelie males who lord over Faerie look like, but I’m a littl
e bit stunned at the guard who approaches.

  In so many ways, he’s the opposite of the Light Fae standing at my back. Instead of skin that looks like he’s spent ages in the sun, his is so white, it nearly glows. He has thick, glossy, black hair that’s even with his chin; a stark contrast to his pale complexion. And his eyes…

  The pupils are as black as his hair. The irises are a shiny, gleaming silver that are as lovely as they are off-putting. As I stare, I noticed that he hardly blinks. My eyes water just thinking about it.

  I think I know what he is. If I’m right?

  Oh, boy. I would’ve been better sticking it out with the trolls.

  You see, there are two types of fae, the ruling race in Faerie. I’ve met Seelie before. I’ve so heard stories about the Unseelie—and I think I’ve finally met my first one.

  His gaze travels the lengths of my body, head to toe, up and down. I want to think he’s assessing me for possible danger—as if the cuffed human can be a threat to anyone in Faerie—but I know better.

  This guy is pretty to look at. He’s still a creep.

  Just my luck.

  “That’s enough, soldier.” The guard nods at Bram. “I’ll take over from here.”

  I’m almost annoyed at how easily Bram clicks his heels and disappears back down the hall, abandoning me to the guard. Because Veron refused to arrange for a portal to the prison, I spent the last few days traveling with the Seelie soldier. Sure, I was locked up tight, and he barely spoke except to answer a few of my questions and to offer my meals, but still. A goodbye wouldn’t have killed him.

  It’s weird. I used to think that every fae had the ability to conjure portals. Nope. Only the strongest of the Light Fae, the Seelie, could create portals made of fire to allow them to zip all over Faerie. Just like the Dark Fae, the Unseelie, can travel through shadows. Without a portal, I had to walk—or, in the case of Bram’s prison transport, ride in the back of a horse-drawn caravan.

  I’m dirty. Dusty. I’ve been wearing the same clothes for a week and a half. My hair is braided out of my face to hide the fact that it desperately needs a wash. I probably smell like horse shit.

  And the darkly handsome Unseelie guard is looking at me like I’ve just stepped off the cover of Sports Illustrated.

  “What’s your name?” he asks me.

  “Elle.”

  His silver eyes gleam. “Is that your true name?”

  It’s the only name he’s going to get.

  I learned that the even harder way. Names have power in Faerie, even for a human like me.

  “Call me Dusk.”

  I press my lips together.

  He grins. It’s almost wolfish, and definitely a threat.

  I gulp.

  Suddenly, the door behind me opens again. When I see a flash of bronze out of the corner of my eye, I swivel, thinking that it’s Bram again. Is he back for me? Did Veron finally realize I called his bluff and he’s backing down?

  After three days of hell in the back of the caravan, is that dickhead calling this whole thing off before I go into a cell?

  It only takes about five seconds before I realize that the Seelie striding toward me isn’t Bram. He has the same coloring, the same sword hanging at his hip, but it’s the clothes that tip me off. Bram, like the other fae soldiers who Veron sicced on me, wore a different uniform.

  This is another guard. Just a Seelie one this time.

  He does a double-take when he sees me, his golden gaze lingering on my face as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

  I bite back a sigh.

  I’m used to it. Even back home, my style choices often earned me a second look. I guess most people don’t expect a petite blonde chick to rock a leather jacket. Or maybe it’s my hair.

  It’s... usually my hair.

  You’d think, in a place like Faerie where brownies are two-foot-high creatures covered in thick, brown fur and trolls seem like they’ve been carved from stone, seeing someone with teal streaks in their hair wouldn’t be a big deal. The nix I met when I was being auctioned off at the Faerie market had green hair for goodness sake!

  Nope. Just like the Unseelie guard, this one also stares, though there’s an element of surprise written across his flawless features that I much prefer to the other guard’s open leer.

  “Dusk, I’ve just been told of her arrival. This is her? The human?”

  Oh. That’s right. He’s probably staring because of what I am, not what I look like. I’m not really sure how, but some of the creatures in Faerie can tell right off the bat that I’m not like them instead of glamouring myself with magic I don’t have. With the nix, she knew because I immediately grabbed for the iron bars in the cage I was thrown in. The fate? They can tell because, one glimpse of my bare skin, and they know I’ve never been touched by one of their kind.

  Lucky me.

  “Yes. Bram put her into my charge.” Dusk’s lyrical fae voice develops a harsh edge when he says that. My charge. I don’t like that. I don’t like that one bit. “I’m bringing her to her cell before starting the next round of patrols.”

  “Where are you putting her?”

  The Unseelie shrugs. “There’s never been one of her kind assigned to Siúcra before. I thought I would give her a cell near Posey. Keep the females together.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s in the furthest recess of the prison.”

  “I know that.” Something sparks in his mirror-like eyes. “Even more of a reason to tuck the human out of sight.”

  “If it won’t offend, I think I have a better idea.”

  Better idea? Better than being hidden away like some dirty secret?

  Yes, please.

  “I’m listening.”

  “There’s an open cell across from the traitor,” the Seelie guard says. “No one else shares the wing with him. We can place her there.”

  “With the human lover? Oh, Saxon… and to think your kind calls me cruel because I’m a Cursed One.”

  “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  “He’s rarely in his cell. I think it’s a fantastic idea.” He pauses for a second, then grins at the other guard. “Have you heard? This human has never been touched.”

  My stomach drops. No wonder he likes the idea of an empty cell. For the same reason he thought it would be a good idea to stick me out in the boonies.

  No witnesses, right?

  Freaking lovely.

  You think I would’ve gotten used to it by now. Being “untouched” is what landed me here in the first place. A Seelie noble thought I’d fall prey to his looks and his charms and his money.

  I told him to get bent.

  He had me arrested.

  You see, there’s magic in a fae’s touch. All it takes is a human like me giving permission and a fae can steal part of our soul with a brush of their hand. It makes them strong. It makes them powerful. They would do anything for the rush—but they need permission. Without it, a stolen touch causes pain for the fae.

  They’ll cajole you. Glamour you. Trick you. Compel you if they can. They’ll do anything to convince you to give them all you have. And when you do—if you do—you’re left as nothing but a slave to the whims of a fantastical creature who will crush you as easily as kiss you.

  No, thanks.

  The Unseelie guard reaches for me. I don’t know if he’s testing me or if, like Lord Veron, he’s willing to risk a burn in order to grab me, but I’m not about to take it.

  I jerk away from him, the chains on my cuffs rattling as I avoid his outstretched hand. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Leave her, Dusk. It’s fine. I’ll take her to the cell,” offers the Seelie guard, already reaching to grab the elbow of my trusty leather jacket. It’s not skin.

  I’m not about to risk it regardless.

  “Get away from me.” My heart is pounding. I hate confrontations, have never been good at fighting back unless provoked, but there’s no way in hell I want any of them to touch me. It’s w
hy I’m here in the first place. I could’ve avoided the whole being imprisoned thing if I just gave permission to Veron. “I don’t want you to touch me, either.”

  Saxon drops his hand.

  “Are there any diamaint gloves in the guards’ room?” he asks, turning to Dusk. “With a human prisoner, we’ll need one.”

  Dusk’s silver eyes darken to a deep grey as he glances over at me. Great. I’ve ticked him off and I haven’t even made it to my cell yet.

  Good going, Hel.

  He purses his lips. “It’s possible. It isn’t often Siúcra accepts a human, and I’ve never met one who wasn’t a slave to the touch. Why don’t you go look? Check in with the captain if necessary.”

  “Should I meet you here?”

  “I won’t need the diamaint just yet. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll give me her touch eventually. ‘Til then, the iron and the blade will do.”

  He pulls his sword from its sheath, angling it toward me so that I can’t miss the sharp edge. “Are you sure, Elle? You’d like it so much better if I led you there by hand.”

  No. He would like it better if he did.

  “I’m sure.”

  “You’ll change your mind,” he murmurs. “I’ll enjoy ensuring that you do. Now move.”

  He doesn’t really need the sword at my back. The iron handcuffs are overkill, too. I’m already resigned to this. It was either stay with Veron or go to prison.

  I made my choice already. And I’m beginning to understand that there’s not going to be any last-minute reprieve for me.

  Alright then.

  Let’s go.

  So I guess men are men wherever you go. Faerie or my world, magic or mortal… they’re all the same.