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“Most are.” His head whips left and right as if to check for non-feathered fairies.
I follow his gaze to the Crow guards left and right of the double door. They straighten at his approach as if he is someone important. That makes me think—“Who exactly are you?”
Royad gives me a sideways glance. “The closest thing King Myron has to family.” We stop by the doors, and I try not to focus on the huge space they reveal as the guards open them for us. “And you are going to walk in there, bow to the king, and wait for him to introduce you to court, Ayna.”
The way he hisses my name gives me pause more than that his features are turning back into those of a bird.
“How do you know my name?” Not that I should be surprised he knows. He was the one to pick me up from prison after all.
“The question should be: Am I the only one who knows.” He gestures for me to walk in, gaze landing on the gray fabrics draped from a high canopy at the front of the room. “Since you were such a bad guest during dinner last night, I took the liberty to tell your future husband the name of the woman he’ll be married to in a week’s time.”
Sunlight paints slender rectangles on the floor from where it streams in through the tall windows high up in the wall. The room is so large the entire Wild Ray would fit in it and then some, and every inch is covered in stone, dark and dull like my future. Lined along the sides of the room, Crow guards stand at attention, their spears silver as mist in the glow of fairy lights hovering where the sun doesn’t reach.
“Now go.” He doesn’t need to shove me. My feet start walking on their own as the fluttering of birdsongs catches my attention high up under the ceiling.
A crow—not the fairy type but the actual bird—hovers under the arches near the end of the room, and it isn’t the only one. There are dozens of crows filing in through the glassless windows and circling toward the floor. As they descend, their bodies grow until their forms expand into humanoid shapes with claw-tipped wings for arms and beaked and feathered faces. They caw and hiss as they land, wings stirring the air where I stopped at the side of the room to gape at the spectacle. They can shift. They can actually shape-shift from Crow Fairy to bird and back.
I shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point, yet my brain has a hard time keeping up as I take in the shimmering colors where the sunlight hits their feathers. Eerie and beautiful—and monsters.
Shutting my mouth, I make my way through the crowd of Crows, who step out of my path and stare as I approach what has to be the throne, hidden under the canopy at the end of the room. My heart beats so fast it might leap out of my chest as the scrutiny of all-black eyes hits me from all directions, hunger and malice and something more I cannot identify reflecting in their depths.
Royad follows me for a few merciful steps before disappearing between the shuffle of feathered limbs and flurry of shifting crows, leaving me to face the Crow King alone. A guard steps forward, bracing his spear beside him on the stone floor and cocking his head as he watches me walk by with the sort of hunger reminding me of a predator ready to kill.
I shrink to the side, nearly hitting another Crow, and catch myself mere feet from the slightly inclined steps leading up to a throne made of carved stone.
I will never look at birds the same way again.
The figure on the throne leans forward, and I find the Crow King’s beautiful human face in the half-light. His eyes sweep down my body, lingering on the feathers of the skirt so long I wonder what is going on behind those all-black eyes—until they snap up to mine, and all I can think is that I need to get out of here before this male can devour my soul.
I retreat one step, but my back hits the sharp end of a spear, and I wince as the tip slices through the fabric of my dress like a needle. At least, my hair covers my back, the welded scar from where the prison guards whipped me for trying to escape. It is bad enough that my left hand is more or less useless.
“Bow to your king.” A hissed order I am not ready to obey but don’t see a way around if I want to survive the day to figure out a way to flee tomorrow. So, I incline my head enough to hurt my pride, but not enough to show full submission. For that, they’d need to kick me down.
“I said, ‘Bow to your king’.” The long end of the spear hits the back of my legs, and my knees bark with pain as I am knocked to the floor a moment later.
Gasping, I brace myself on both hands, the pressure too much for my injured one, and try to lift myself again.
“Enough—” King Myron’s voice lashes through the room, silencing the whispers and murmurs of his feathered court.
He rises from his throne, a ray of sunlight gilding one winged arm and his profile. A crown of silver feathers and onyx rest upon his raven hair, the jewels drinking up the light. He isn’t wearing a jacket now, leaving his chest and stomach bare, and I am not proud to say I am drinking up the view of carved muscle to distract myself from the pain.
“Rise.” He is obviously speaking to me, but when I try, my body decides now is a good time to lose balance, and I drop back into a crouch, my good hand cradling my bad one in my lap.
Myron isn’t in leather pants today but in black satin that matches the fabric of my dress. And the reason I’m so acutely aware of it is because he steps down from the dais, descending the stairs like the king he is until he stops right in front of me, his thighs filling my view. He owns this palace, these people, and he knows it. And something about the way he looks down at me as I glance up tells me, he thinks he owns me, too.
Before I can spit an insult at him, he holds out a manicured hand in a mockery of an offer to help me up and booms at the room, “Meet Wolayna Milevishja, future Queen of Crows. This year’s bride.”
Cheers erupt as ice captures my chest. This isn’t right. He isn’t supposed to know my name. Not even the name everyone called me on the Wild Ray, then in prison. Even Royad only knows me as Ayna.
King Myron crouches before me, his fingers grasping my chin as he leans closer to whisper in my ear. “King Erina Latroy Jelnedyn of Tavras will be glad to know this year’s tribute has made it to my home in one piece.”
Seven
I can’t getout a word as he takes my hand in his and pulls me to my feet, throat closed up with terror as the monster is touching me. I don’t even feel the pressure of his grasp on my bad hand, that’s how paralyzed I am.
“Walk with me, Wolayna.” It’s not a request, and I’m in too much shock to fight him as he leads me from the throne room through a side door that leads to the familiar dining room, cheers and shouts of the Crow Fairies following us like wolves giving chase.
He doesn’t release me until we make it to the door leadingfromthe dining room into the hallway. There, Royad is waiting, his features tight as if he is expecting a creature ofhisnightmares to step over the threshold.
