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Still, warm flesh was soft under my skin as I pressed two fingertips against the body's throat. The wind picked up the torn hood and pushed it away from the face. A woman. Long, black hair was bound in a low ponytail, black veins ran in splintering lines over her cheekbones. A faint heartbeat registered beneath my fingers.
Recognition of just what I was touching startled me enough that I snatched my hand back. A burgundy witch? They had long since been thought to be extinct, and they were not friends of the Fae. Blood coated her bottom lip, sharp teeth extended, ready to feast on Fae flesh.
I knew what I had to do. This thing couldn’t stay here. It couldn’t stay alive.
“Guards?” I called, looking for anyone still alive, or a sign that the castle hadn’t been breached.
The front door opened, the helmet of the attending guard poking out to see me. His eyes grew as he took in the sight.
“What happened here?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he stuttered. “We didn’t hear anything. No one sounded any alarms or anything.” The guard inside next to him pushed the door open farther and gawked at what his comrade was looking at.
“Sound the alarm then! Scour the castle, and for the love of the gods, send someone to check on my parents.”
“Yes, my Prince,” the one guard said quickly before he bowed and darted away.
My hand was already on my waist, a knife slipping quietly from its sheath. It couldn’t be allowed to live. To keep myself from stopping or letting fear take over, I hurried. My fingers intertwined in her hair as I lifted her head to expose her throat. The knife slid over her windpipe. Blood gurgled, as she tried to inhale, and pooled around her. I wiped the weapon on her cloak and slipped the knife back into my belt.
Ireturned to the Heathern Court the same as I had left, in the silence of King Henrick’s presence. He didn’t speak this morning either, as he swiftly took my hand and slung me through time and space, back to where I truly belonged. The briefest of nods was all he gave me once we returned. Nausea was still spinning strongly in my stomach.
Part of my heart had stayed behind in the Twinity Court. The part of me that begged to ignore everything I’d worked for this far to run away with Prince Dace was frantically screaming in my head. That voice left me no choice but to leave without saying goodbye. Worry had me thinking that if he would ask me to stay one more time, I’d strip all my clothes off, let him take me right there, and I’d never return.
This was what I dreaded about entertaining romance. The world was on the brink of real war, real change, and here I was begging myself to stay in the care of a Fae.
You’re so fucking weak, Ryker,I snarled to myself.
A few Nymphs called from the valley as they saw me appear. Their friendly smiles made me feel so much more welcome than Dace’s parents ever had. I waved back, scanning the small crowd for my friend, for Daethian. Instead, Graceson’s red hair bobbed into view.
Already on his way up the hill toward the steps, Graceson waved in greeting. Sweat left the stray hairs near his face clinging to his cheeks. His scarred wings opened and closed like a small fan behind him as he fell into step next to me.
“So, are you the queen of the Twinity Court yet?” He clicked his tongue.
“That’s a no. And how do you always know things before I tell them to you?” I shot him a bewildered look, taking the steps two at a time. “You haven't said anything to Daethian, have you?”
“I have friends far and wide.” He chewed his lip, his eyes watching anything but me as he spoke. “Was I not supposed to tell Daethian? It’s good news, isn’t it?”
“Damn it, Graceson. How did he take it?”
“He didn’t really say anything.”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe this time had done what it needed to do and he had realized we were just better as friends and this was all for the good of everyone.Including my own personal interests.
“I hope that’s a good sign. Everything still standing here?”
“Some of the Nymphs have taken to calling me ‘bastard’ instead of my real name. A few minor complaints from some Nymphs who want to use the same training weapons, and someone learned they are allergic to bees, but apart from that, it’s been business as usual, I suspect.”
My gaze traveled over the doors we walked by. Farther off the noise of Nymphs in the throes of lovemaking was notable. I scrubbed my face and tried to ignore the sounds. Graceson walked along next to me, happy as could be, oblivious, with his cheeky smile and casual stance. My plan was to jump in the shower and try to wash off a fraction of Dace’s scent before I hunted Daethian down. Even with the dread of our impending conversation, I missed him dearly.
“Have you heard anything from Hattie?” I asked hopefully, as we started down my hallway.
“Oh, yeah, actually a messenger stopped by and dropped off a witch’s crystal. If you want to talk, all you have to do is hold it and say her name. I put it in your room on top of your wardrobe so no one would find it.”
“Witch’s crystal?”
“Old, expensive, and rare.” He held my gaze. “Don’t lose it or break it.”
“Right, thank you,” I murmured and twisted the handle on my bedroom door.
