I finally looked at him, frowning. “I would rather not, thank you.”

  His dark eyes flashed, teeth meeting with a clack behind his thinned lips.

  I never thought I’d meet anyone who loathed me more than Rolina had. But this male... Something told me he’d peel my skin from my flesh and use my bones to feast upon my organs if given the chance.

  I withheld a shiver.

  Zayla spoke before Fellan could, a look given to him that I couldn’t decipher. “We can better ensure your safety if people do not know you’re in here.”

  I refrained from saying that not once had Florian told me to keep from looking out the window. Not during our long carriage ride through Hellebore, nor during our shorter trip into the city. Annoyance and a chilled feeling I couldn’t name pricked at my skin.

  But I let the drapes fall closed and caught a gesture from Fellan.

  A gesture I’d assumed was vulgar, but it had been made with his fingers in his lap—so slight, I couldn’t make out what it meant as I turned it over in my mind.

  Then my peripheral snatched the movement of Zayla’s quick nod. A flock of birds screeched overhead, and she shifted on the seat.

  Fellan laughed, but it didn’t reach his evil eyes. “Still got that fear of birds, Zay?”

  She had no fear of birds, and the almost imperceptible confused purse of her lips before she played along said as much.

  The screeching sounded again.

  A warning I felt right down to the marrow of my bones.

  Hair rose upon my nape and arms.

  I didn’t need another. I tugged the drapes aside just enough to glimpse the sharp turn up ahead. As I’d begun to suspect, we were not venturing to the city at all.

  We were traveling across the mountain into deeper woodland.

  I breathed, slow and quiet, through my nose in an effort to keep the guards from noticing the faster cadence of my heartbeat.

  “Close the drapes, Princess,” Zayla ordered, her tone gentle no longer.

  I did, then forced an apologetic smile. “It’s just beautiful, isn’t it?” I said, wistful. “The foliage beneath all the melting frost.” I needed to act as though I had no idea what these guards were up to until I could figure out a way to escape them and this carriage.

  Fellan snorted. “If you say so.”

  I scowled at him, and he grinned. The grin of a warrior who was about to win a battle I couldn’t see coming.

  But I could.

  Fear thundered through my heart now, wild and untamable. Although I tried, there was no calming it. For I didn’t need to wonder what this male intended to do with me. It was written all over his smug face.

  I looked back to the window and feigned a sigh.

  I had to get out of this carriage before they scented my fear and decided to act while I was stuck like a caged animal. “I need to relieve myself.”

  Zayla tensed beside me. “We’ll arrive in a few minutes, Princess.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot wait.” I knocked on the carriage ceiling three times.

  The horses complained as the driver tugged on the reins and the carriage lurched and slowed.

  Fellan growled, “Sit down.” Then he turned to the window behind him. He pulled the drapes and knocked on the glass, motioning for the driver to keep going.

  But we’d slowed down enough that although it would still hurt, I could escape.

  Now, instinct screamed.

  I threw myself at the door.

  It burst open, and the world spun in winter color as I hit the rocky road with a yelp and rolled down the embankment.

  Shouts sounded from somewhere above, and I scrambled for purchase among the rocks and ferns. My nails split. My hands sliced on stone and stick. There was no stopping it, and knowing it was best to get as far away from the carriage as possible, I gritted my teeth and let go.

  Pain careened through my arms, sides, and head.

  The air knocked from me with the fall failed to return as I slammed into a tree and bounced faster downhill.

  More branches and rocks scratched and gouged. My coat and gown ripped and tangled around my legs as I rolled over thorny plants and came to a stop by an unused road beneath the one I’d fled.

  I moaned, splayed across overgrown weeds, and turned over with a hissed wince. Moss covered the dirt road beneath my palms as I pushed to my hands and knees, trying to catch my lost breath.

  A quick inspection told me I wasn’t seriously injured. Even if I was, it wouldn’t matter. I had to keep moving. I climbed to my feet, dizziness swamping me, and made the fatal mistake of looking behind me down the mountainside road.

  Fellan, atop one of the horses he’d untethered from the carriage, rode toward me. The sun, filtering through the treetops, made something glint in his hand.

  A dagger.

  Before I could turn to run, a hand clapped over my mouth from behind.

  I screamed, the sound muffled. Zayla hushed me before saying in my ear, “I really do feel terrible about this, Tullia. Please don’t take it personally.”

  “He’ll kill you,” I mumbled to her skin, and tugged and clawed desperately at her arm.

  She laughed. “The king only cares about who plays with his toy, not who kills it. Want to know why?” she asked, and I kicked behind me to no avail, my dress hindering movement. “You were never supposed to live this long.”

  At that, my heart stopped.

  All of me froze.

  “Seduce, marry, fuck, mock, and kill,” the driver said, climbing free from the embankment he’d slowly traversed. “The order might be a touch incorrect, but you get the gist.”

  Zayla had the ability to materialize.

  Mercifully, Fellan did not. I was certain I’d already be dead if he could.

  But he was closing in now. He dug his heels into the giant horse’s flanks, the creature huffing and rearing when its dark eyes met mine.

  Fellan cursed and growled at the majestic beast, “Easy, asshole.”

  I didn’t want to believe it, but with Florian and Fume’s conversation still so fresh in my mind from the night before, it was irrefutable. Every word I’d ever heard them exchange now made perfect sense.

  Florian had sought to humiliate me, to humiliate my father, and then he would take me from him the way my father had taken his sister.

  There was no time for tears, but my heart didn’t care.

  My eyes filled as Fellan neared.

  I closed them, knowing to surrender would haunt me in any last life to come but unable to do anything else. A tear escaped, and I opened my eyes as the cold steel of Fellan’s blade skimmed my cheek.

  He scooped the tear with the dagger, digging the blade into my skin.

  I flinched, but though I’d lost the will to fight, I refused to beg.

  I looked beyond his shoulder as he laughed and dragged the dagger down my other cheek. He reeked of sweat and tobacco and misdeeds. The lewd words and laughter he exchanged with his comrades became a buzzing I ignored when the forest gained volume.

  Wet soil and pine and horse rode along the kiss of the autumn-touched breeze, drawing my eyes to the carriage horse.

  He stood behind Fellan, restless and free.

  I met the monstrous creature’s eyes, and he settled with a huff.

  As I stared, an unexpected peace, cool and soft and silken, unfurled from my chest. It erased the aches in my body and heart. If I was leaving this world when I’d only just begun to experience it, then I would do so without giving these guards the satisfaction of looking at them.

  “Indeed, there is a chance we might be punished for taking this win from our king,” Fellan was muttering now, the tip of the knife meeting the corner of my mouth. “But we’ll be celebrated for taking another slice of Molkan Baneberry’s soul.” The blade rose, the steel catching sunlight a second before he placed it at my throat.

  The horse I was still staring at reared.

  My knees buckled as pain scalded from the slice of the blade. Then it slid across my skin as Fellan shouted and turned to the advancing horse.

  I tripped backward into Zayla as darkness invaded the edges of my vision, and my fingers tingled in a way they’d only done a handful of times before.

  In a way that told me I was about to materialize elsewhere.

  But this time, the magic that had only ever arrived when I was desperate might be too late, even as Fellan fell beneath the bucking legs of the black stallion.

  Zayla screamed and left me to rescue him, but she too was knocked to the ground.

  The driver looked at me and cursed, unmoving. His wide copper eyes jumped from me to Fellan, who was howling and growling beneath the hooves of the horse while Zayla scrambled back with her arm clutched to her chest.

  I smiled as the soil ruptured and rose beneath my feet, and I slipped through the welcoming void of time.

  The apartment was just how I’d left it.

  I didn’t stay. I stumbled into the hall and down the stairs, still winded and far too unbalanced.

  I didn’t dare seek help from Gane either. Florian would know where to find me, and it would not be long until he heard of my failed venture to the city.

  A venture he likely wouldn’t have allowed.

  The pain in my chest flared, worse than the various bruising, cuts, and gashes. Worse than the deep slash at my throat. Clutching it as tears blurred my vision, I gritted my teeth against the desire to slide down the wall of the landing and scream at the flickering firelight of the stairwell.

  Later. I could fall apart later.

  Right now, I needed to make sure there would be a later. I needed a place to hide until I assessed my injuries and made a new plan.

  I gave one last longing look at my very own secret entrance to the library, and then I continued downstairs.

  The acrid scents of refuse and smoke overwhelmed as soon as I pushed open the rear door to the apartment building and stepped into the narrow alleyway beyond. Crustle had always been as gloomy and dank as people said, but now that I’d left and returned, I fought the urge to vomit.

  It was likely shock or the repercussion of materializing. So I leaned back against the cold stone of the building, partly hidden beside a large rusted wagon.

  A wagon filled with rotting food.

  I gagged, misery squeezing my bones as I walked on.

  Not a minute later, I stopped. A familiar male stood beneath the stairs to the Lair of Lust.

  The male I’d met in the dressing room at the beginning of this journey I never should have taken paused. His tobacco stem fell from his fingers as he surveyed me slowly. “Mother of skies, pretty thing, what the fuck happened to you?”

  “I need a place to stay,” I said, breathless as each step made my ribs scream. “Just...” Startled by a clatter in the distance, I glanced around. Mercifully, it seemed to have come from the street. No one else lurked in the alley. “Just for the day.”

  His eyes widened upon the hand at my throat. “You need more than that,” he said, his face creasing with an incredulous huff. “You’re bleeding.” He looked me over again, gold-dusted lashes flicking. “Everywhere.” He sighed when I said nothing. “Let me get Morin. She’ll skin me if I bring you in looking like that without checking first.”

  I attempted to nod, then flinched.

  His head shook as he climbed the stairs and squinted down at me. “This place is no good for sweet creatures like you.”

  He was gone before he could glimpse what those words did to me.

  What have I done to you, sweet creature?

  A hitched breath spiked my pulse.

  Disorientated anew, I leaned against the building beneath the stairs and closed my eyes over the wet that filled them. I silently recited my letters to the timing of each trembling breath, then I lifted my shaky hand from my neck.

  Blood dribbled from the sliced flesh but didn’t gush. Not too deep, then.

  There was no relief. There was only pain. Tears left my eyes as I stared at the crimson covering my palm.

  The air grew warm.

  I tensed and clasped my neck again, sensing I was no longer alone.

  My heartbeat drummed in my ears.

  Boots, large and bulky like some of Florian’s, entered my blurry line of sight.

  I couldn’t recall seeing a chestnut pair in his collection. Nor had I seen him wear a brown cloak. Slowly, my eyes rose over a thick pair of olive-green britches and a fitted brown tunic to meet the male’s gaze.

  Gold eyes.

  “Finally.” Thin lips spread into a wide and bright grin. “Been spending far too much time in this cesspit, waiting for the moment you came to your senses.” His tone turned mocking as he bowed deeply. “My princess.”

  I forced a smile, all the while inwardly whining like a babe. I just needed a skies-damned minute. “I wouldn’t recommend staying out late,” I rasped, gesturing to my neck and hoping he’d assume I didn’t remember him.

  A dark brow rose, humor sparking in those unforgettable golden eyes.

  He was with the hunt, yet he’d been waiting for me? I couldn’t make sense of it—lacked the ability and time to make sense of anything right now.

  My mind was cotton. My beaten body remained upright from adrenaline and survival instinct alone.

  All I knew was that I needed to get away from power-hungry males, and that he was but another one. Whatever he wanted was guaranteed to be no good for me. So I shrugged and straightened to walk back to the apartment building.

  But my unbalanced feet faltered as he lifted a gloved hand. He opened that hand to reveal a small pile of dirt-colored dust. He smirked.

  Then he blew.

  I turned away and blocked my face. But it was too late. The faerie dust, acidic and laced, was inhaled into my lungs.

  The alley dripped away in an instant, and I fell into his arms as day turned into starless night.

  I woke on a bed in a circular stone room, confused and wondering if the dreamless sleep had now become vivid.

  Then it all came rushing back in patches of pain and fear and blood and horse hooves.

  I rolled over and expected to feel it still—the aches and stings of my wounds—but found there was only one.

  And it radiated from my chest with the memory of dark-blue eyes and a feral smirk.

  Wherever I was, Florian wasn’t here; here was nowhere I’d been before.

  He would be furious indeed, I thought as the pain of betrayal flared. Furious that his captive had escaped before he was done with me.

  Hairs rose upon my skin, and I finally sensed I wasn’t alone.

  Tears cleared at the sight of a male seated in a woven cane chair against the wall.

  It creaked when he leaned forward and clasped his hands between his spread knees. He wore his features similar to the male I’d escaped—with cool indifference. His were not as easily seen, hidden beneath a dark beard that reached his broad chest.

  I didn’t need to ask who he was.

  I knew before he said, “You look like Corina.” His voice was rough, sand over concrete, and his scent a similar mixture of pine and eucalyptus to the male who’d blown dust into my face. “Your mother.”

  I’d always wondered if that were true, and I’d always dreamed of one day hearing someone say those words to me. Though I’d never imagined them being said in a tone as empty and matter of fact as his, and certainly not from the male I assumed was my father.

  The Fae were not known to be warm and welcoming creatures, but they were fiercely protective of those they did care for, especially their family.

  A kernel of disappointment joined forces with the hurt already fracturing every heartbeat. Still, I rasped, “You’re Molkan.”

  The male nodded once, slowly. The chair creaked again as he leaned back, a large hand rubbing over his mouth. The sound of coarse facial hair scratching his palm echoed too loudly in the small and otherwise silent chamber.

  “So you escaped him,” he said, the first sign of something within his voice—disbelief. “The meticulously ruthless Florian.”

  Merely hearing his name was a knife grazing wounded flesh.

  Though the answer was obvious, I said, “Yes,” and to hide my emotions, I pushed up on the bed and inspected my arms. I was still wearing my ruined gown, but my coat was gone. I tugged up the sleeves but found only blood-marked skin. “Someone healed me?”

  “Of course,” Molkan said. My father said.

  Mother melt me, this could not be real.

  My gaze flitted over the wooden trunk beneath the circle-shaped, glassless window. There was a chest of drawers beside the bed, though, with the exception of the chair the Baneberry king sat in, nothing else.

  “Thank you,” I said belatedly.

  I could feel his eyes on me. My stomach tumbled as I forced myself to tuck the bedding over my waist and look at him. A hard male, certainly, his skin sun warmed and faintly lined—his body big and burly but mostly muscular.

  His clothing was similar to the golden-eyed male’s from the alley, a brown tunic and pants. Molkan’s were not britches but loose, and his giant feet were shockingly bare of shoes.

  “I had hoped to reach you before he snatched you,” he said, still rubbing slowly at his mouth as though deep in thought. “Alas, by the time we confirmed it was indeed you who Avrin encountered during the Wild Hunt’s visit to Crustle, it was far too late. You were as good as gone.”

  “Avrin?” I questioned.

  A slight smirk lit Molkan’s charcoal eyes. Eyes so very similar to my own. “The male who brought you here.”

  Gold eyes.

  Remembering that night in the alleyway right before I’d left the middle lands with Florian, an onslaught of regret twined through my bones. If I’d have known the male with gold eyes had been working with my father, then so much would have been different. So much could have been avoided.

  Such as finding a goddess-given mate of the soul in a king who intended to murder rather than claim me.

  I now understood why Florian hadn’t said a word when I’d asked if he was my mate. He had intended to kill me, and that would prove difficult if he acknowledged what I was—his.

  Florian had no heart. It had been torn from his chest long ago, rendering him merciless and calculated enough to make sure it would never dare to beat again.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33