Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Tarian
As soon as we went around the corner, her shoulders stiffened.
I did my best not to look at her, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable if she was upset.
She stood facing the trees with me behind her.
Her long black velvet cloak covered her form like a protective shield, keeping her safe from harm.
I watched as she tried to clear her head.
I might not be psychic, but I had to do the same thing after he touched me the first time.
It was a harrowing experience for everyone, and the guilt was overwhelming, coming in like unrelenting waves slamming into you without any respite in between.
"I've been in your shoes. He touched me, and he reacted badly. The guilt… it was so much. I could barely handle it," I said, my voice strong but laden with honesty.
"How did you handle it? He was just trying to comfort me, and he ended up on the ground," she said, her voice filled with self-loathing.
How did I handle it? It was a tricky question. If we brushed up against each other, I still had the guilt flare, so I didn't really handle it that well.
"I just forced myself to keep going. I didn't know, so how could I have blamed myself?
It was just a freak accident. He chose to try to comfort you despite knowing the risks, so you can either let yourself grow in guilt that doesn't need to be there, or you can keep moving forward and feel honoured he tried to help you when he knew what would happen," I said.
Sometimes, a bit of tough love was needed. She looked down at the ground and sighed. "You're right. Thank you."
"It's no problem. Now, why don't we get to know each other a bit better?" I said.
She turned around, and I drowned in the green of her eyes. "What did you have in mind?"
"What are your favourite things, and your least favourites?"
She pursed her lips, and suddenly the idea of kissing them exploded in my mind.
I shook my head, knowing I had no business even thinking that.
She was a princess, a member of royalty, and I was a peasant, or worse, an outcast. Yeah, I bet her mother would love it if she brought someone like me home. I could just imagine it.
"Well, my favourite colour is purple. I love egg tarts, I love the sound of the harp, and I love the sunrise. I hate the sunset, as it means the day is over. I hate my curse, and I despise celery," she said, screwing up her nose at the last one. "Oh, and I love horses."
I chuckled, the sound more genuine than it usually was. "What did celery do to you?" I asked, a smile pulling at my lips.
"Don't ask. Your turn," she said.
I was definitely going to ask later. "My favourite season is autumn. I love thunderstorms, I love bread, I love my best friends. I hate ginger, I hate the curse, and I hate birds," I finally said.
She laughed, and I swore I heard angels. She tilted her head back so the column of her throat was on full display, the milky skin perfect and needing to be blemished by my mouth.
"Why do you hate ginger?" she asked me, looking scandalised.
"Don't ask," I teased, and she shook her head fondly.
"Copying my line, are you?" she teased, smirking at me.
"Yup. What are you going to do about it?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her in challenge.
Her eyes seemed to darken, and I swore she shivered at my words. I could feel myself harden, and I had to physically imagine myself being rooted to the spot to stop myself from walking over to her.
"I don't know, I might have to ban you from speaking by royal decree," she joked, looking at me cockily.
God, did she look good with that look on her face.
"Punish me? Sounds hot," I said, my voice filled with heat.
I cursed and looked away from her. She moved closer, and I took a step back. Hurt coloured her features, and I cast her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I have my reasons for needing my distance."
"Is it your curse?" she asked me, tilting her head in a manner I could only describe as adorable.
"No, it's not," I said, and it was true.
"Then what is it? Since I laid eyes on you three, a force I couldn't control has been drawing me to you, and I have been trying to ignore it, but I know you feel it too. You all do," she insisted.
I sighed and looked at my feet. Yeah, I knew my non-blood brothers could feel it. That was the only reason Quill would have touched her, but it wasn't for me to say right now.
"Look, whatever you feel is one-sided. We have an agreement to look after you, to train you to manage your curse, then we get our freedom. We don't need to sleep with you to do that. Besides, I thought princesses would have better manners than to try to sleep with people they just met."
She growled and clenched both hands around the material of her dress. "Screw you," she spat, her eyes glowing with untapped power. "I'm not the loose woman that you seem to imply. I am a princess, and I didn't say anything about sleeping with you."
I opened my mouth to say something, but the gravity around us grew more intense.
Whips of moonlight and starlight flickered around us, and the air was whipped up into a hurricane as it stormed around us.
I cursed, correctly identifying that I had triggered her curse.
Her magic raged around us with all the anger of the old gods.
I tried to think of a way to help her, but the magic grew stronger as it whipped around us.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she let out an ear-piercing scream and fell to her knees. She screamed in pure agony, as if someone was pouring burning lava down her throat. I tried to move over to her, but the pressure was so intense I couldn't even move a muscle.
"Princess Fayanna! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to imply that. I know that you're not like that, and I'm sorry if I upset you. You're stronger than your curse. You can overcome this," I cried out to her, trying to keep my voice level and even.
She let out another ear-piercing scream, and I gritted my teeth.
I glanced to the side and saw my two friends standing there, directly out of the eye of the storm.
I managed to meet their eyes and then glanced at the girl in front of me.
I didn't want to do this, but I knew it was the only option to get her to stop.
"Do it!" I screamed at them.
Quill's eyes turned sorrowful, but he nodded.
I watched as a bolt of pink magic flew at her, and she let out another scream before falling limp.
The magic raged for a while, as if it had a life of its own.
Slowly, it started to chip away, but I could feel its anger and rage as it slowly dissipated.
When it was finally gone, I sprinted over to her and pulled her into my lap.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered to her, hanging my head.
"What happened?" Rafferty asked me, suspicion in his gaze.
I looked up at him, my eyes filled with sadness. "I implied that I didn't feel the connection that she did, and I implied that she wanted to sleep with us and that we weren't about that."
Quillon hissed in a breath and looked at me with disappointment. "Why would you say that? It's obvious all three of us are drawn to her."
I hung my head. I knew why I said that. I was thinking of my ex-wife, who passed away ten years ago, and the guilt that was eating away at me for not being able to save her.
I felt guilty that I had such a spark for someone else.
I was trying to push Fayanna away because I knew I wasn't the right person for her.
I wasn't the right person for anyone. Everyone deserved better than me.
Quillon must have read my mind because he sighed deeply. "You deserve good things. It's not your fault that she was killed."
"It was. I was out drinking instead of being at home with her. I should've been there," I said.
"Maybe the reason you weren't there was because you would've died, and you never would've met Fayanna?" Rafferty said.
I sighed and nodded. Maybe that was true. My wife and I were in an arranged marriage, but I still remembered the way her father looked at me at the funeral. He blamed me, as he should. I still blamed myself.
Fayanna stirred and looked up at me with bleary, grassy green eyes. When she saw me, a smile broke out across her stunning face. Her white-blond hair spilt around her shoulders like milk. "You're beautiful," she whispered, before her expression twisted into horror.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I—"
"You're okay. I shouldn't have said those things. You're stunning," I said simply.
She sighed and looked up at me, worry swimming in her eyes. "I've never done that while awake before," she whispered. "The curse is getting worse."
Rafferty placed his hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him. "We'll keep you safe," he vowed to her, his hazelnut-coloured eyes fixed on her with all the seriousness he could muster.
She gazed up at him, her lips parting. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"You're welcome," he said.
He offered her his hand, and she took it. He lifted her lithe body up, and Fayanna looked at Quillon. Her lips turned downward, and she gnawed on her lower lip in the most alluring way. "I'm"
"No need to apologise. I took the risk knowingly," Quillon said.
"Still, I"
"It's truly okay," Quillon said.
Her shoulders slumped, and she gave him a cautious nod. "That's a good girl," he praised, and Rafferty and I shared a look, our eyebrows disappearing into our hairlines.
He never acted like this, but I supposed it was what I was dubbing the Fayanna Effect. She was damn sexy, and I wasn't surprised he was handing out praise like it was candy.
"Alright, as fun as this is, let's head back inside. We can talk more," I said.