Page 3 of Heart of the Raven Prince

It’s his pointed ears.

What a fool I was to think that our island in the middle of a desolate sea would be left alone from the Raven Queen’s path of destruction. Gaelynn, an island known for its seafaring people and brutal weather, had ruled for centuries in peace and isolation. Gaelynn is small and with no gem mines or oil wells to boast about, we have remained unbothered by the neighboring nations. I had only ever heard my father and mother whispering about the impending war, about the queen’s growing reach, and still, I was too naïve to believe.

After all, these were just rumors of war with the fae, how could anyone be taking it seriously? Even Falen thought it was more likely a disease sweeping across nations, one that caused some sort of shared madness. I agreed with him…until the boats began showing up on our shores. The ones filled with the haggard survivors of a war they warned was heading our way. As I helped tend to the terrified men and women that looked like they had been through battle, I realized what an absolute fool I had been.

And the realization came too fucking late.

“Sixteen?” the general asks after walking up and down the short line of us. The guard nods, and I don’t miss the tension in his muscles as the fae warrior steps closer to him. I get the distinct feeling the guard is just as uncomfortable in his presence as I am.

“The estate is small, General. After the initial fight, there were very few left to claim.” He turns, regarding the burnt remains of my home, spitting at the ground. “Pathetic really, for a regent to even consider this island worth ruling. I can’t imagine why the queen would be interested in such a pitiful island.”

My lips twitch and I nearly bare my teeth at the guard for speaking of my land like that. The small movement does not go unnoticed by the fae as his coal-dark eyes snap toward me. That scratchy, overwhelming feel of power prickles over me again, and I quickly still my features. He watches me for a beat longer as silence falls over the camp, interrupted only by the howl of the coming storm.

“Your false regents rule this land no more,” the general says, his voice barely loud enough to be carried across the courtyard. But somehow, he sounds as though he is speaking directly in my ear. Based on the way the others beside me stiffen, they must be hearing that same magnified voice. “Consider yourselves subjects of the True Queen and be thankful her benevolence sought to spare your lives. In her endless generosity, she will leave one of you behind to spread the word of her bounty and grace amongst the rest of the Isle.”

As a unit, we all freeze. I notice the guard shift, a confused look flashing across his face, but he does not seem likely to question the general. Risking a glance up, I turn to my left, where they have placed Falen. It’s odd, I should be lost to blind panic in the face of an army that will most likely kill me. And yet, all I can seem to do is watch my brother.

His face is still rounded with youth, having barely seen twenty name days, but the similarities between us are undeniable. We both bear our father’s straight nose and our mother’s strong cheekbones. He might have the pale skin of our mother, both of them preferring a life spent in the study. Mine is tanned gold like my father’s, thanks in no small part to the time I spent outdoors, training with him. We both have our mother’s honey brown locks, but his is a deeper shade from all that time in the library, whereas my brown tresses have streaks of bright blonde, kissed from the sun.

He looks at me and pales when he sees my intention in my eyes. I know this only because his gaze widens, and he shakes his head ever-so-slightly. I feel my heart beginning to burst as I realize this is the last time we will ever see each other.

Before the guard can stop me, I lean forward and rest my head on Falen’s shoulder—the only sort of embrace I can manage. All I want to do is wrap my arms around his neck and ruffle his scruffy brown hair one last time. The guard shouts at me for moving, but just as he’s grabbing me to yank me back, I nudge Falen with all the strength I have left so that he tumbles forward.

“This one will stay.”

They are the first words I have spoken since the carnage broke out. My voice sounds strange to my ears, lifeless almost. Just another thing they have killed. The guard growls, gripping my arm tight and giving me a rough shake, but stops when the general places a hand on his shoulder. I don’t miss the look of fear that passes over the mortal guard’s face, caused by the mere touch of a fae.

The general moves, his eyes locked on mine, and I swallow hard against the intensity in them. His eyes are two endless obsidian pools, pitch black like his armor. He looks entirely soulless. Easily side-stepping Falen, he moves toward me like a predator. The general stops before me, towering over me, and I have to tilt my head back to keep his gaze. Slowly, he leans down, inch by inch until we are at eye level with each other. I can’t help but study the other-worldly nature of his face; he’s the first fae I’ve ever seen.

He’s terrifying.

My mortal soul should be screaming at the lethal power pouring off him. Yet I find myself enthralled, tracing the ruthless perfection of his rugged features. He reminds me every bit of a serrated dagger. My mother always said my curiosity would be the death of me, and I can’t help but agree with her as I openly study him. That curiosity is short-lived as he opens his mouth and hisses sharply, “And who the fuck asked you?”

I know better than to spit out the retort building on my tongue. So instead, I keep my mouth firmly closed and look down at my bloody boots. I try not to think about who’s blood it could be. That tingling sensation claws down my skin as the general continues to stare at me. His large leather-clad hand lashes out like a viper, pinching my cheeks and forcing my face up to look at him. It’s his turn to study me; his brows furrowed in deep concentration as his dark eyes bounce between mine. Almost like he’s searching for something, I’m just not sure what.

“Everyone move out,” the general orders, once again his voice no louder than a whisper, but it booms in my ears like a shout. “Except for that one,” he says, pointing to Falen but keeping his attention firmly on me. I turn to the guard holding Falen just as he shoves him unceremoniously to the ground. The sound of his knees hitting the stone makes me wince, another motion that does not go unnoticed by the general. Falen twists, looking at me with wide eyes as he struggles against the bindings on his wrists and ankles. The guard begins to shout at the other survivors to move, damn it.

“Aren’t you even going to undo his bindings?” I ask, unable to stop the question as it bursts forth. “He’ll die if you leave him like that. How can he spread the honorable name of your queen if he’s dead?” The general’s eyes widen, nearly imperceptibly, before narrowing at me and I almost regret speaking. The words are out of my mouth, and there’s no taking them back now, so instead I stiffen my shoulders and hold his obsidian gaze.

“Quite the talkative one, aren’t you,” the general muses, his voice deathly quiet. I think I may be the only one who hears him speak this time. He grins wide at me, and the sight of that smile stretching across his face has a trickle of fear dripping down my spine. “Allow me to escort you to someone who will gladly show you what happens to mortals with loose tongues.”

I don’t have a moment to move, or even prepare myself. In a blur of movement that is too fast for me to mark, he snaps the bindings around my ankles, though the ropes remain around my wrists. He grabs me under the arm and begins to drag me after him, leaving the ruined courtyard behind us.

Falen shouts, a strangled noise escaping his lips like he was going to call for me but thought better of revealing my name. My eyes dart toward him and I shake my head just once. All-consuming despair grips my heart like the general’s tight hold on my arm. Falen calls out again, just to be struck silent by the guard. The loud crack of his fist against Falen’s face ricochets in my mind. There are several knives at the general’s side, directly at level with my hands. If I am quick enough, I can unsheathe one and—

Your temper might fuel that fire inside of you, Fawn, but it can just as easily cloud your judgment and get you killed.

My father’s words still my hand, calming that racing anger that tries to tell me to go down screaming. The phantom crown of a fallen people rests heavy upon me as I remember Falen is not the only one I need to protect. With a weight like a stone in my chest, I turn from him. I imprint his face in my mind as the general drags me away from the last place I will ever call home.

Icy coastal wind blasts into us when we exit the high walls that surround our destroyed estate. The frigid gale has me gasping, somehow freezing me more than I already am. Within moments, my teeth are chattering, and I resist the urge to huddle in on myself. I’m no stranger to our winters, but I’m normally clad in fur-lined leather coats and gloves. The simple training clothes I’m wearing now are not built for a trek in the elements.

The general doesn’t seem to mind or even notice the cold as he continues to yank me after him. Blood is still rushing into my ankles where the tight bindings held them for hours, and I’m having a hard time keeping my feet under me. After the third time I slip, the general grunts, and before I know what is happening, he hoists me in the air and flings me over his shoulder.

He ignores my shout of pure shock as I bounce on his shoulder like I’m nothing more than a sack of grain. One of his large arms wraps around my legs to keep me still, or maybe he thinks I’m not above kicking him in the face. Which, I’m not…but I remind myself that I’m of no use to my people if I’m dead. Especially considering they don’t seem determined to murder us all. Yet.

“Not so talkative anymore, hmm?” he asks, his voice reverberating through me. I don’t respond, staying perfectly still as he moves us briskly through the woods. When the last of the trees are left behind and we exit the forest, I twist my head to get a better view. My stomach plummets when I see the army’s camp surrounding us.

Tents crowd the once wide-open space; there are so many of them they nearly sit on top of each other. I’ve no doubt this is only a small portion of the army. Cold understanding grips my throat: we never stood a chance. No one stops the general as he storms through the camp, most turning and walking in the opposite direction as soon as they see him. I note the majority of the army has rounded ears.