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“I haven’t had much luck with magic.”
“Your Soturi magic is not consistent, true, but I think you’recloser to summoning a bit of the natural spell caster in you than you think.”
I rolled my shoulders back and focused on my root, studying the slimy ridges, the bulge in the middle that swirled in something almost golden. In moments, my palm heated, but it went deeper. There was a warmth that bloomed from my heart, to my veins, into my mind. As though a soft voice whispered a strange sort of comfort when I imagined commanding the light to emerge from the strange thing.
“Tendra,” I whispered, hoping my accent had enunciated as well as Hugo.
A spark ignited in the center of the bulge. Slowly, the light spread until a small flame wrapped around the skin of the root. Not as impressive as present company, but light was there; it was enough to chase away the nearby shadows.
“Not bad,” Hugo said. “Here, take a few more roots. They’re useful little things in the dark.”
I shoved the additional roots into the pocket of the dress, and followed Hugo around a bend in the path.
A cottage with stone walls, a crooked chimney, and blue flames quivering in the windows emerged between the trees.
Hugo helped me swing over the side of the horse onto the ground.
“He’s in there?” I asked, wrapping the cloak a little tighter around my shoulders.
“He comes here when his soul is troubled.” Hugo clicked his tongue, guiding his horse back toward the path. “Lady Adira.”
I turned around.
Hugo’s rich hazel eyes gleamed with something soft, something sincere. “I’ve known both princes for all of my memories. His soul is fading, yes, but I’ve sensed it also brightens when you are near. I hope you know that whatever happens, I am glad you brought some light to him. Even if this is the end.”
For too long, I stared at the empty path where Hugo trotted away.
Another slice to my middle jerked me forward. I groanedthrough the ache. Like a set of jagged claws shoved against me, there was a need to ease whatever troubles plagued the prince. There was a need to get closer.
I spun toward the cottage door. Odd place for a prince to live, but it didn’t seem like Destin and Kage were the closest of stepbrothers.
Shadows loomed in the entryway. With the flicker of candlelight, they seemed taller, monstrous. The door opened into a quaint room. Floorboards were lined in woven rugs, a smell of dust hung in the air.
To one side was a small kitchen with a stone oven and stacked kindling beside a narrow table. In the other direction was a room, the doorway covered only by ropes with black and gold beads wrapped in the threads.
Fingers tangled, I swallowed, and strode to the beaded curtain.
My heart stopped.
There, legs kicked out from a chair, was my horrid, beautiful thieving prince.
His back was to me, but his tousled chestnut hair looked freshly mussed. He read from a tattered book bound in blue leather. The words were spoken in a language I did not understand, but it must’ve been humorous. Every few words he’d scoff, chuckle, then lift his gaze to . . .
What the hell?
Two people were tucked beneath opulent furs and coverlets in a large bed. Sleeping? Dead?
Oh . . . please don’t be dead. I could handle thieves, but a prince who kept dead people in a cottage in the woods? No, absolutely not.
My rapid fears faded a bit when the woman let out a gentle sigh.
“What are you doing here?”
I startled. Kage burst from his chair, the book falling to the floor, and quicker than seemed human, he had my back to the wall, one hand on my throat.
Fire burned in his eyes. My thoughts spun. Where I ought to feel a bit of fear, all I took from his touch was relief. As though the heat of his palms soothed the anguish growing inside me.
His body was broad, thick with muscle, and his grip was like iron.
