Page 75 of Heart of the Raven Prince

It works in my favor that Fawn does not crave my protection, because the moment we step through the rift into Arawyn’s palace, we are separated. Arawyn demanded my presence in her council chambers to go over plans for the next nation she wants to conquer. The meeting was long and tedious, and I barely paid attention. I refuse to ever give advice on the destruction of the mortal realm, not that the queen cares. This is all just another form of torture, giving me a front seat to the slow death I will rain down on yet another kingdom.

Throughout the whole meeting, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I tried, and failed, to force down the blind panic that she is in this palace alone. I have to remind myself vehemently that she is more than capable of taking care of herself. Even after the council was dismissed, I hadn’t been given a moment to search for her. I was commanded to change for dinner and play the role of the dutiful prince around a sea of her advisors.

Even now as I stand in the queen’s private parlor, all I can do is look for her—the effort made near impossible by the teeming crowd of fae and vampires. Arawyn said this meeting would be intimate, and by her standards this is small. I spy Duvessa in the crowd, she’s been trying to catch my eye since the moment I entered. Pushing through the milling throng, she saunters towards me.

Gods I despise this woman.

It is hard to look at her now and remember that she used to be my closest friend. We met at school, two shy children who did not find making friends easy. She was not a fae of noble birth, but my mother and father had never cared about status or titles among my friends. My mother even brought her to court, and when she was old enough, she made her a lady-in-waiting, a position she could have never hoped to achieve on her own. We grew up together, and I cannot remember a time in my life when she was not around. It’s undeniable that positioning herself near me gained her a new life, but I never once felt like she used me or my title to her advantage.

Not until the day my kingdom fell.

When I murdered my parents and placed my father’s blood-soaked crown on Arawyn’s head, Duvessa had been the first to bend a knee. She bowed in a pool of their still-warm blood, professing her undying devotion to the queen. I saw the look in her eyes, the gluttonous, greedy creature that was her true self. She was desperate for power and would do anything to maintain it. Arawyn may have turned me into a demon, but Duvessa did not need a transformation to become a monster.

“Caden, it’s been too long,” she purrs, batting her dark, kohl-rimmed lashes at me.

“Not nearly long enough,” I say, my voice bland, refusing to give her the satisfaction of pulling any emotion out of me. She’s used to my cold demeanor, and she doesn’t let that dissuade her as she steps closer. I barely resist the urge to bare my fangs at her proximity.

“What a thrilling little show you gave us,” she laughs, flicking a black lace fan open and wafting it delicately in front of herself. I glower over my whiskey glass, taking a long drink.

“Yes,” Viscount Bastion says as he steps next to Duvessa. His stark white hair is slicked back, giving his already sharp features a severe look. His dinner jacket is a velvety black that shimmers a deep green in the light, a silky black scarf is wrapped around his neck and tucked into his vest. The skull of a small creature rests as a cameo at his throat, pinned into his scarf. He and I have rarely interacted; he is almost never at court. I’m honestly surprised he’s here now. “Where did you find such an interesting little creature?”

I bristle at his question, that crazed demon inside of me rising up and snarling as he dares to talk about what is ours. Inhaling deeply, I keep my face nonchalant as I shrug and take another drink. “One of the lesser islands in the mortal realm.”

“Why take such an interest in one measly human?” Bastion asks. His question may seem casual, but there is a heated glint in his eyes as they narrow ever-so-slightly. If I hadn’t been intently watching him, I would have missed it.

“I’ve always been fascinated by things I cannot control.” I should be keeping my words guarded, but I can’t help it. I hate how flippantly they speak of Fawn, how little they regard her. I want them to see her as I do, as an unbridled storm.

“A toast then,” he says, raising his glass and clinking it against mine. “To controlling her.”

He turns and walks away, leaving me with a sense of unease. Duvessa continues to preen beside me, all but shoving her breasts in my face. My gaze trails after him, suspicion simmering inside of me as I watch him disappear into the crowd.

“At the very least it will be entertaining to watch her be shredded by her majesty’s creations, don’t you think?” Duvessa makes the very big mistake of saying. I snap my gaze to hers, and I do not bother caging the demon inside of me as I snarl at her. She balks, taking a step back and bumping into the man behind her, real fear flashing in her eyes.

“The only reason I have not ripped you apart yet is because you’re not worth my gods-damned time,” I hiss, loud enough for the people around me to hear. Arawyn will know about this encounter within minutes, but I don’t fucking care. I continue to hold Duvessa in my withering gaze as I snap, “But do not think for a moment that I won’t tear your vile fucking tongue out of your mouth if you ever speak about Fawn again.”

“What did you just say to me?” she whispers, fear and disbelief shaking her voice. I don’t bother answering, because I’ve just spied her. She’s across the parlor, standing on the balcony, stuffed into a dark corner and trying to look invisible. I shove my glass into Duvessa’s hand, not even bothering to see if she takes it before I walk toward her. I push my way through the crowd, ignoring every fae and vampire I bump into along the way. I can only focus on Fawn.

Cool night air whips around me as I open one of the glass doors, and step onto the balcony. Her head whips to me instantly, and relief splashes across her face. She waves me over to her, but I’m already on my way.

Fuck the old gods, why does she have to look so fucking delicious?

She’s changed into an inky black gown made of glittering feathers held up by nothing more than thin straps of black diamonds. My cock twitches when I realize the dress looks as though my feathers are covering her naked body.

Cruel gods-damned punishment.

With a grunt, I force myself to focus and not get lost in the desire that is burning inside of me. I can still remember the way she felt, curled into me throughout the night.

The demon in my mind laughs at me, trying to remind me how worthless I truly am. I falter, and she quirks a brow at me. That monster tries to whisper forcefully that the only real thing she wants with me is my death. It howls and cackles, filling my mind with self-hating shame.

She does not desire you. She craves only your death. She—

“I’m so happy to see you,” she breathes, and just like that the demon is silenced. I stop in front of her, shock rippling through me at the ease with which she quiets that beast.

“Your face looks strange.”

“My face looks strange?” I chuckle; dammit why does she have to be so alluring?