Page 29 of Fae Trials

“You heard the headmistress.” Prince Rory brushed imaginary specks off his academy blazer. “Until this matter is resolved, the identity of my fated mate remains in question.”

I glanced at Mistress Ellyllon, wondering if she would contradict the prince. The older faerie sat back in her seat, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Fury blazed in Lady Gala’s eyes. She pressed her lips together, looking like she was trying to hold back a barrage of insults. Even though I hated the wretched faerie, I felt a pang of sympathy, as Elijah’s dismissal still stung.

Without a backward glance, Lady Gala spun on her heel and stormed out of the room. I gulped. The last time she had been disappointed, it was because she didn’t get those iPads. And the reason Sicily and I were in this mess was because my poor sister was trying to find a way for us to escape Lady Gala’s warped sense of blame.

I rubbed my aching chest, but it only tightened the fist of panic squeezing at my heart.

“Eunice,” drawled Prince Rory.

“It’s Unity,” I said.

With an annoyed sniff, he waved away the correction as though my name was of no importance. “Can those wings do anything else but broadcast your eagerness to mate?”

I would have rushed to their defense, but the wings were part of that dead faerie’s curse. Prince Rory gazed down at me, a feral hunger in his eyes that turned his irises into tiny rings of green. I gulped, wondering what the hell he saw, then remembered my upgraded faerie appearance.

“My wings?” I shot a glower at the flapping appendages, which glowed brighter under the prince’s attention. “They don’t do anything, much.”

He walked across the room and stood so close, I could feel the heat of his body. “Allow me to deposit you at the remedial building.”

My eyes widened. “No thank—”

Prince Rory scooped me up and held me to his chest. “Goodbye, headmistress, and thank you for the opportunity.”

“Use it wisely, Your Highness,” she replied.

I parted my lips to ask what he meant, but his low chuckle reverberated against my right wing and torso, sending pleasant tingles to my nipples and between my legs. My cheeks burned. I had never been this close to a high faerie, and Prince Rory’s scent made my head spin.

It was earthy and sweet, reminding me of lazy autumn days spent in Daonna park, one of the few outdoor spaces reserved for humans and fae impervious to the iron fencing. My breathing quickened, and I snuggled into his broad chest, readying myself for a gentle ride full of innuendo and flirtation. If Prince Rory’s libido was anything like that of a centaur, I might not be able to resist his advances.

Still cradling me in his strong arms, he walked to the edge of an arched, floor-to-ceiling window and stepped off. It was a free-fall, slowed only by a strong gust blowing us across the campus. Terror exploded across my chest, and sweat beaded on my brow, which dried and chilled in the wind.

A scream tore from my lips, and I clung onto the prince’s muscular body, all traces of arousal gone. He meant to kill me. Or scare the glow out of my wings.

“Relax,” he growled.

It was an impossible feat. Wind rushed through my ears, and my breaths became shallow, barely reaching the tops of my lungs. Just as my vision turned black, he flapped his wings, and we slowed to a gentle descent.

I sucked in a noisy breath. “Why did you do that?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” His feet reached the ground with a gentle bounce, reminding me of what Gladiolus had said earlier about the magical cushioning on the top levels of the Mound.

“What?” Breathing deep and hard, I struggled out of his grip, but he held onto me tight.

“You’re excited,” he said in a low purr.

“No!” I slammed my palm on his chest.

He released my legs, letting them fall to the ground before loosening his grip around my back. “Your wings are practically incandescent. It’s a sign of arousal.”

I staggered away from Prince Rory, no longer feeling so well-disposed toward him. To the left of the stable block was a three-story building in the same white brick as the castle. A few human-looking students streamed inside, casting us furtive glances, making me guess that these were the half-bloods returning from lunch.

“How was it?” Mischief glinted in his eyes.

My stomach churned at the sight of the grinning prince, and I just wanted him out of my sight. Without meaning to, I bobbed into an awkward curtsey. “Thanks for the ride, Your Highness, but I’m running late for classes.”

I spun on my heel, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me into his hard body. The scent of sweet cedar filled my nostrils, and his body heat spread through my wings, making them vibrate with pleasure. I pressed my lips together, trying to push away the sensations, but my wings had a mind of their own.