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The second time had been at the once-a-century summit held on either side of the Spit. Another legacy bequeathed to us by the Ancestors seven thousand years before, when they’d written these bargains in blood to bring peace between the warring fae kingdoms of Annwyn.
Both times, he’d been a golden-haired enigma. A terrestrial, yes, but the High King of Annwyn. No longer tasked just with upholding the traditions of one half of the kingdom, but the peace and tranquility of the whole.
That first time, when I was very young, I had imagined what it would be like to be high king. Before I was captured, before I became the Brutal Prince. Later, those imaginings had ceased to matter. A female heir was needed from the terrestrial fae to seal the treaty.
Until the golden king’s son had been murdered.
The life I’d built for myself had not been pretty. Bloodshed rarely was. But as commander of the terrestrial armies, at least my magical gifts had been put to good use. I’d earned the title of Brutal Prince with every throat I ripped out and opponent I tortured over the course of three hundred years. I had a hard time imagining my brutal methods of maiming and killing would be as well used in the goldstone palace.
I shook my head, tossing the two halves of the stick into the fire.
None of this mattered. It was in the past. The future was what I needed to concern myself with.
My duty was to Annwyn, as it always had been. No matter what it cost me.
So I’d sit on a throne and join with a mysterious queen and I wouldn’t be needled by a lion shifter.
“The elemental court—mycourt—will learn to mind its place or pay the price in blood.”
Gwen’s gold eyes looked away. If she had been offered in my place, Annwyn might have faced a different sort of future.
“So you intend to live up to your moniker, Brutal Prince?” she asked, eyes fixed on the flames now.
“A gentle king will not survive on the throne of Annwyn,” I said, knowing the words would pain her but letting them pass my lips anyway.
Her shoulders shook, either from a suppressed sob or mirthless laugh. “Let us hope our new queen is sturdier than her brother,” Gwen said, bitterness lacing every syllable.
I left her then, knowing she would keep the watch.
Because even though I had heartily protested, I knew she was right. If I didn’t shift soon, the need to let my beast run free would consume me. I had to be in control when we stepped into the legendary goldstone palace, or it could mean not just my own destruction, but that of the kingdom I’d sworn my miserable life to protect.
9
ARRAN
The wind howled in my ears, their fae keenness even sharper in this form. With each bound of my powerful legs, I cleared several yards of the mountains, outpacing even the flying fae scouting above.
I was the fastest. I was meant for this. This was my true form.
None of the foul beasts of the mountains dared to approach. I caught their scent, my wild heart surging after them. But the remnants of my mind, the little control I had, kept me on pace. I needed to see it, then I would go back.
I trusted Gwen to keep the delegation safe. She was the only one—the only fae I’d met who came anywhere close to being my equal. Though that too, was a fallacy. Even now, in this brutal beast form, I could feel the trees and bushes bending to my will, curving out of the way of my huge leaping strides.
No one was this powerful. No one else carried this curse.
The trees were thinning. I’d dodged the aerial scouts, bending the canopy high above to hide my movements. None needed to know that I was not at camp. A traitor could lie even within the midst of the trusted fae who’d been assigned to my delegation. For all they knew, I was asleep in my tent, Gwen sitting on a log outside to keep guard, as usual.
But the trees would not shield me much further.
In the next breath, I shifted, landing on my two feet with the same ease that I ran on four.
It must have happened in the second that I shifted. That mere second that I was vulnerable to the world around me, caught in between. That was when she appeared.
In that second, I’d lost my advantage. Any advantage beyond my superior power and magic. At least I’d had time to shift. From the frown on her face, rather than terror, she had not seen the beast.
There was a chance, if she hadn’t seen my animal form, she did not know who I was.
Her brows knitted together, a furrowed line of silvery white that I’d only seen on the oldest among us. Yet the woman before me was young. Impossible to tell her exact age, long-lived as the fae were. But her coloring was unusual—pale porcelain skin, silver white hair in a mussed braid hanging off her shoulder, and eyes so blue—
