“This has nothing to do with Adaia. We have nothing to do with her—”
She ducks beneath my arm as I reach for her. “There is no “we”.” Frustration roars to life in her eyes. “Prove it. Prove that marrying me has nothing to do with spiting my mother. Prove this is real.”
“And how do I do that?” When she won’t believe my words.
She looks as though a thought occurs.
A horrible, terrible thought, judging by the way her cheeks pale.
“Give her the lands she wants,” she says breathlessly. “Give her the territories in Mistmere. Do it and I’ll marry you. Do it and I’ll become your wife.”
She may as well have struck me.
Give Adaia Mistmere?
No. A thousand times no. Not only is it dangerous politically, but it’s become the playing piece I won’t surrender. My pride won’t allow it.
“You were willing to give it for Finn,” she whispers.
If it was the only way I could save his life….
A part of me hates that she’s asking this of me. A part of me applauds it. I don’t want just a wife. I want a queen. And a queen makes sure of her own worth.
I could have her, and is she not worth a thousand Mistmere’s?
“Do you promise to marry me if I surrender those territories to your mother?” The words are soft. Dangerous.
There’s something about her expression that softens in disbelief.
“I promise. I promise once, I promise twice, I promise thrice. I will marry you if you give Mistmere to my mother.”
Dark, silky lashes obscure my eyes as I try to hide the flare of possessive joy within me. She’s mine. “Then I will hold you to your promise, Princess.” I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips and brushing a soft kiss across the back of her knuckles. “Meet me at the Hammerdale ruins at midnight.”
“And then?”
I can’t help myself.
I kiss her.
Capturing her face between my hands I swoop down and claim that luscious mouth. A gasp escapes her, but then her fists are twining in my shirt. It doesn’t matter if she’s the daughter of my enemy. It doesn’t matter if we barely know each other. We have this and it burns between us. A promise of more. A promise of forever if only I am brave enough to reach out and take it.
I draw back breathlessly, because I promised Eris I would be brief. “And then you belong to me. Forever.”
10
THIAGO
The moon hangs heavy in the skies over the Hammerdale ruins as we wait.
They’re long broken—the remnants of a forgotten kingdom—and all that is left of them are fallen stone and jagged arches. The only thing that stands in any semblance of good quality is the temple, where an unknown goddess—or warrior—stares out over the valley with a spear in her hand. The sculpted scallops of her gown are some of the finest work I’ve ever seen and the sight of her wings—each feather lovingly excavated from the alabaster marble—made my breath catch in my chest.
It also makes me wonder.
The fae of the Seelie alliance are purebred and can list their ancestors all the way back to the Great Exodus, when we fled the home world and colonized Arcaedia.
Wings don’t belong on the fae.
Or not the Seelie.
No, the only winged fae they belong to lie in Unseelie.
I close my eyes and let my glamor shift over my skin. I can feel the muscles stirring in my back as my wings slip into being. It’s almost akin to shapeshifting. When I want to be Seelie, I swallow all my Darkness whole. Wings, claws, those wretched soulless eyes that stare right through me in the mirror.
But they’re always there.
Pressing beneath my skin. Threatening to consume me. One slip of my glamor and my true form rises to the surface.
I haven’t told Vi the truth—there’s so much I haven’t told her—but what will she say when she sees my true form? The handsome prince with his green eyes and wicked smile is just a façade. It’s a lie. A shield.
I want to be that prince with every part of my being, but the truth of my birth can’t be denied.
I’m a monster trapped into fae flesh, and no matter how much I want to hide it, I can never forget.
Maybe you can finally submerge it once and for all if she marries you. Maybe she can help you vanquish this beast. You know how she makes you feel.
There’s an incredible lightness in my chest when Vi smiles at me.
I’m no longer trapped in the dark, fighting not to drown.
No, I’m whole and handsome and able to lock my Darkness down so deep I could almost throw away the key. She’s my hope and my salvation in one.
Marrying her means I finally get a good hand of cards. I’m no longer being tortured on Fate’s rack. There is only goodness within Vi’s heart. She can anchor me to this world, and I will give her everything.
My kingdom. My crown. My heart.
Gods, maybe even my heart.
If she cannot love me, then can she love you? whispers the Darkness within.
Be silent, I tell it.
What are you going to do? It taunts. Are you going to lock me away and pretend I don’t exist? Are you even going to tell her about me?
I steel myself. I don’t know how she’ll react. I just need time. Time to make her fall in love with me.
Maybe if she loves me, then she will forgive me this one lie.
If I can just hold myself together long enough for Vi to want to stay with me….
The Darkness laughs. I’ll let you have this moment. Only because when I finally rise again, I’m going to enjoy your pain.
But it sinks down deep inside me, until I can finally breathe again.
Will she come?
“Stop pacing,” Thalia says, hauling me into place in front of her and brushing nonexistent lint of my doublet.
“I can’t help it. Is there any sign of Baylor?”
I sent him to ensure Vi arrives safely at the ruins.
“She’ll come,” Thalia says, and I shake her free and rub my knuckles into the palm of my other hand as I pace.
Wanting someone as badly as I want Vi is like handing Adaia the knife and then not expecting her to put it to my throat.
What if this is the first mistake I make? What if I just took the wrong fork down a dangerous road?
I’m not a prince who is ruled by his impulses. I can’t afford to give into anger or fear. The only way to cage the monstrosity within me is to chain every hint of emotion that flutters in my chest and control it.
But the truth remains…. I’ve had over six hundred years to master myself and the second I caught a glimpse of Vi, that control was shredded.
I want her.
Not just the woman who dragged my face down to hers for a kiss, or the woman who cried out in pleasure beneath me, but the one who demanded that I prove myself true—her dark eyes flashing with heat and fire. The one who crept into my tents with Finn slung over her shoulder, careless of the blood that dripped down her fine gown or the fact she was in an enemy quadrant.
Vi understands what it’s like to live one’s life in a cage, and yet there’s a kindness and generosity that has managed to survive everything her mother threw at her. Maybe, if her mother had her for another hundred years, she’d manage to strip Vi of her innocence, but I can’t help thinking that she’d never manage to ruin her heart. There’s defiance there. Stubbornness. And determination.