Page 19 of Heart of the Raven Prince

The carriage rocks to a halt, and he finally rips his fangs from me, lapping up the rivulets that have run down my skin. He untangles his hand from my hair and guides me back by my throat. A strange look crosses his face, like he has just solved some great mystery.

“So, that’s why he wants you,” he says, before tossing me backward and sending me crashing to the ground at his feet. The carriage door is opened, and he leaves without a backward glance. I’m disoriented, still dealing with the ebbing pain from his bite. Clamping a hand around my pulsing wound, I don’t waste a moment before I am scrambling to get out of the carriage. I don’t even make it to the door before those two hulking fae from earlier are standing before me, leering down like I am their next meal.

“Don’t you fucking dare—” My words are cut off with a sharp screech when they each grab either of my wrists and yank me out of the carriage, throwing me hard onto the cobblestone. Whipping my head up, the snarl melts off my face when I behold the castle before me.

One time, when my father took me camping early in my training, we had stumbled upon the decaying body of a deer. The back half of the creature had been ripped off, leaving behind scraps of torn flesh and muscle. It must have been there for sometime, the blood was rusty and clotted, it's skin sagging as the meat beneath it was picked clean by smaller creatures. It's tongue was puffed and lolled to the side, a colony of ants scurrying in and out of its mouth. I couldn't stop looking at its eyes, where inky black mushrooms had grown from the sockets. The haunting image had stuck in my mind, and I still find myself having nightmares of its rotting face.

The castle before me looks every bit like the decaying corpse of that deer.

It is a behemoth that swallows the sky, blotting out that glimmering red moon. Turrets and towers jut from it like mushrooms growing out of eye sockets. I can’t tell if the windows are shattered panes of red and black glass, or if it’s simply a reflection of the bloody night sky. The stone is soot black, as though the entire castle burned. The walls surrounding the castle are not made of stone, or iron, but of twisting, gnarled thorny vines. If I look long enough, I can nearly convince myself the vines are writhing.

Almost like they’re alive.

I move to stand when a boot lands on my back, pressing me flat on the ground. Another one plants directly on my face, forcing my cheek down. A growl tries to worm its way up through my throat, but the massive giant of a man is pushing all his weight on me, crushing my lungs. The effort to breathe is laborious, and the edges of my vision begin to tunnel. I’m stuck facing the foreboding castle, until a set of boots come into my line of sight. The white-haired fae who attacked me drops into a crouch, canting his head to the side as he smirks at me.

“I would suck you dry just to see the look on his face when I throw your lifeless body at his feet, but,” he says, a glint shining bright in his eyes. Reaching forward, he strokes the side of my face that isn’t shoved firmly beneath the fucker’s boot. I attempt to jerk away, only to have the asshole lean more weight onto his foot and I swear my skull is going to crack under the pressure. My attacker gives my cheek three swift pats and I decide in that moment I’m going to do everything in my power to kill him. “But for you, my lost little Vessel, I have something much more fun in mind.” Glancing up at the men stepping on me, he says, “Tie her up. I can’t give a present to the queen that isn’t properly wrapped.”

Idon’t turn to see Lochlan’s face because I know that’s exactly what that motherfucker is waiting for. He wants a reaction out of me, and I’m not giving him the satisfaction. Fawn spits and hisses around the gag lashed firmly across her mouth, twisting like a fish out of water as she fights uselessly against the bindings that have her trussed up like a slaughtered lamb about to be roasted.

Quirking a brow at her, I give her a slow, dismissive once-over. Making a show of rolling my eyes, I sit back down. The queen remains standing, peering over the table at a writhing Fawn, confusion knitting her brows together. She, too, sits back down, casting a questioning look at Lochlan. He has yet to take his eyes off me. I grab the decanter, pouring more blood into my wineglass and swirling it before taking a long drink.

“Did you have a fucking point?” I deadpan.

“Come on, brother, don't you want to pick up your toy?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Turning to Arawyn, I desperately try to snatch her attention away from Fawn. “What did I say about him being drunk?”

“She escaped from your most recent shipment of meat,” Lochlan says. Arawyn's gaze widens, her nostrils flaring.

Shit.

Fawn lets out a particularly angry noise at that colorful description of the human prisoners from Gaelynn. It’s an effort to not shout at her to calm the fuck down if you want to live. Instead, I sip Yasminda’s blood and focus on not hurling the glass at Lochlan’s head. “I’m still waiting for your fucking point.”

“Are you not concerned that your general allowed a human prisoner to break free?” he asks, and I don't like the glint in his eye.

“I’m supposed to believe this human somehow overpowered a fully trained fae soldier and escaped an entire army unnoticed? This story is weak even by your standards,” I snort, shaking my head. The twitch of his lips snags my attention. Is he hiding a scowl or a smirk?

“You're right, brother,” he says, leaning slowly forward and dropping his voice low. “There's no way a human could have escaped your fearsome army. Unless, of course, someone brought her here on purpose.”

“No one in my army is foolish enough to try and steal what belongs to the queen,” I say, my words guarded.

“True. I suppose I can commend you for raising an army so terrified into obedience.”

“How kind,” I say with acid dripping from my words. A triumphant grin spreads across his face.

What the fuck did I just walk into?

“Which means the only person capable of stealing her would be you, Caden. Isn't that right?”

Gods fucking dammit.

Outwardly I’m nothing but cold and indifferent, but internally I’m seconds away from jumping across this table and strangling Lochlan. He’s trying to simply annoy me; most likely he thinks I want Fawn for her blood. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s killed a Vessel just because he found out I preferred them. If he knew what I actually have planned for the princess, he would have never let her in my sight again.

But Lochlan isn't the problem.

I cast a sideways glance at the queen, and I see her frown deepening. Lochlan might be a miserable fucking asshole that finds pleasure in torturing me endlessly, but he’s shortsighted and the least of my concerns. The queen, however, if she were to learn who Fawn really is, what she would do to her is so much worse than death.

I should know. She did it to me.