Page 49 of Heart of the Raven Prince

“I’m just some fucking game to you, aren’t I?” she mutters, beginning to tremble, her brows knitting together.

“You’re much more than that,” I say.

But fuck, I want to play with you.

“Are you finished eating?” I ask, quickly pushing that thought aside. In response Fawn shoves her plate forcefully away from her, sending cutlery flying and an errant carrot rolling from the plate and falling off the table. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I snap my fingers, and this time she does not shout in surprise when the plates disappear. Instead, she stands so suddenly her chair nearly topples over as she snaps, “If that’s all you have to say, then I am going back to the Barracks—”

“You asked me to start from the beginning,” I interrupt, not bothering to stand as I swirl the wine in my glass. There’s no need to worry about her petty threats to leave. She won’t make it out of this apartment; I won’t allow it.

“I didn’t think you would take that to mean starting from the dawn of time.” Her lip is twitching, a look halfway between a grimace and a snarl is plastered across her face. Narrowing her eyes at me she hisses, “I don’t need a history lesson, or a nursery tale, or whatever the fuck this dinner is. What I need are answers. You have ruined countless lives so thoroughly beyond repair. The only thing I want to know is why?”

I’m silent for a long time before I answer her. It is a question I have been plagued with since the night I woke a demon. Will it make her feel any better to know I doomed us all for love?

I suspect not.

“I can’t tell you how I cursed both of our realms without telling you how they became connected in the first place.” My words drift like a spell over the room. I have her attention now, and she doesn’t make any other attempts to leave. Motioning to her chair, I wait. She glowers harder, inhaling sharply like she is swallowing a whole sea of arguments, but she does reluctantly sit. Grabbing her wineglass, she scoots it across the table, and I oblige, filling her glass to the brim.

“Forgive me, Fawn.” She flinches when I say her name. “This next part might seem confusing at first, but in order to learn how Arawyn came to be a plague that swept through our lives, I have to first tell you about Sorcia.”

She’s spinning, suspended upside down in the air by the rope tied around her ankle. Her long, raven-black hair drifts lazily in the gentle breeze as she twists. Luckily, she’s dressed in trousers and a tucked-in white shirt. Were she in a gown, her skirts would be hanging over her head. She’s so still, for a moment I think she might be dead, but then her body twists more and her bright cerulean eyes lock on mine.

“Oh, thank the old gods,” she says, her voice light and airy, reminding me of a babbling stream. “I screamed for help for so long, and when no one came, I assumed I was going to die up here.” Her smile, a frown from my vantage point, tilts as she says, “Um, you are going to help me down, right?”

It’s then that I realize I’m staring.

“Yes, of course.” I hurry to the base of the tree where the rope is attached and pull a dagger from the strap across my thigh and begin sawing away at the rope. “How did you manage to get up there?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she calls.

“Try me.” I glance up when she doesn’t immediately respond and I see her biting her lip.

“A fox grabbed my scarf and ran off with it. I was chasing the beast when…well, you see what happened.” She gestures to her snared ankle.

“All this over a scarf?” I ask, not bothering to hide my snort of laughter as she scowls at me.

“It was a very nice scarf!” she shouts, and this time when I laugh, she pauses a beat before joining in.

“I’m going to drop you now,” I say, holding the rope tight, ready for when the tension will snap, and it’ll attempt to whip from my hands.

“What? Don’t drop me!”

“How else do you suggest I get you down?” I ask. “I can’t very well fly up and get you.”

“Lower me gently,” she shouts. I watch her flailing, which only makes her twist more.

“Aw, but that’s no fun.” I grin, locking eyes with her—and release the rope.

“Don’t—” Her scream cuts off the rest of her sentence, but the high-pitched wail lasts for barely a second before she is falling directly in my outstretched arms. I stagger, nearly toppling over, but I steady myself and hoist her up.

“See, safe and sound,” I say, setting her on her feet. She teeters, and I hold her shoulders as she gets settled on her feet again.

“Thank you, but I still think a gentle landing would have been preferable,” she says, laughing lightly as she takes a step back. Her eyes go to my pointed ears, and her smile widens. “You’re a fae,” she breathes, and I frown in confusion, until I look at her ears.

Rounded, like the Offsprings of Niamh, the humans that live in Fomoria. I’ve never met one outside of court before. The residents of the city surrounding the palace are all fae.

“Have you never met a fae?” I ask and she quickly shakes her head.