4. Revi
Afew days passed restlessly for Revi, and his agitation only heightened when a scout came at dawn warning humans would reach the castle by midday. He had no appetite, and irritation scraped under his hide at every little thing, so he sent away the meat the chef had prepared for him and took to his garden. He shifted to his frostcat form and climbed a nearby tree, glaring at his frostroses and hoping Enlo wouldn’t come to find him.
It was a few hours after dawn when the wind blew their scent to him like a smack on his nose. It was one part familiar—that irritating mix of steel and oil and leather from the leader of the group—but entwined with that scent was another. Softer, floral, feminine. Revi’s hackles raised, and he dropped from his perch and loped to the front gate. They weren’t near yet, just a teasing aroma on the air.
The aroma of prey, one corner of his mind whispered—the bestial, carnal corner that was always too present these days. Good for hunting. Easy to bring down, to rip his fangs into. He growled and tore his mind away from that line of thought.
He might be trapped in beast form, but he couldn’t give in to that side of him. He was beast enough without adding the slaughter of innocents to his sins.
He was still grappling with the desire to hunt when the temptation itself arrived at his gate. He sheltered in the shadow of a looming tree, its boughs drooping despite the recent rains, as he studied the small group.
The first thing he saw was her. She wore a long-sleeved dress—wool, by the scent of it—that hugged her every curve and was made to protect from the harshest of winters. It was exactly the sort of thing that would have suited his Court, though the Elyri of the Winter Court reveled in the cold.
Sweat dripped down her cheek near her hairline. A cloak to match her dress lay across her saddle and knees. Her cheeks were flushed red from the heat, but her hair shone like spun gold, pushed over one shoulder to keep it off her neck. Her eyes glimmered a deep green, the same shade as winter evergreens that always looked brighter for the snow around it. He would never have mistaken her for an Elyri, not with her curves and round ears, but still she was stunning. More stunning than he had ever thought a human could be.
As an afterthought to her, the leader who’d stolen Revi’s frostrose sat atop his own horse, tension making him stiff. Revi could see the resemblance between the two. She had his nose, shared his eyes. He’d brought his own daughter, then.
They stood at the gate for a moment before the man dismounted and approached, walking forward and shaking the obsidian bars with one vigorous shove.
“Beast!” he called. “Prince!” Revi didn’t imagine the way the man’s lip curled up at the word. “We have come as per our bargain.”
Revi prowled forth from the shadows of the tree. The instant the young woman laid eyes on him—a feline as tall as her waist—her beautiful golden skin blanched. Good. At least she wasn’t a fool. She knew a predator when she saw one.
He moved closer, and though her lip quivered for just a breath, she mastered herself and clenched her jaw, tilting it up and staring at him with a serene expression. Not quite defiance, but there was steel there. He couldn’t help but admire that.
She slid from her horse and stopped before the gate. Her father shifted, partially blocking Revi’s view of the woman as if that could stop Revi from taking her.
“I have adhered to my end of the bargain, Winter Prince,” the man said, his voice deep and scratchy. “I have brought my daughter, Kienna.”
“And I will honor mine.” Revi shifted his gaze to the woman. This close, he could better discern her scent. Floral, almost like his frostroses, with an edge of spice like pepper, as well as a hint of spring—turned earth and new growth. She smelled delectable. Revi clamped down on his thoughts again. “She may enter,” he said flatly, his tail lashing behind him as he turned away from the gate. “You may not. Come back in a year and a day to fetch her.”
The father started to protest. “I can’t just abandon her at the gate—”
Revi whipped around and growled. “I said go.”
The man flinched back, and Kienna watched Revi with wide eyes. If Enlo were here, he would be giving Revi a look, quietly mocking and chiding him simultaneously for losing his temper. He huffed, trying to regain a sense of equilibrium. “I will honor my word that she will be safe, but no other humans are welcome in the heart of my realm. Leave now before my patience runs out.”
For the first time, Kienna spoke. “It seems it already has.” She smiled at her father in what Revi could only describe as a mollifying sort of way. “It’s all right, Papa,” she murmured. “He won’t hurt me, according to the conditions of his own bargain.” She cast a glance in Revi’s direction, though she didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Isn’t that right, Winter Prince?”
“As I have already said.” He grew weary of placating these human feelings, but he tried to keep his tone even. “You will be safe here so long as you maintain your side of the bargain.”
Her mouth creased down into a frown. “And what does that entail?”
“Stay here, at the Winter Court, for a year and a day.” His tail flicked. “Don’t touch my frostroses.” His tail flicked back the other way. “Don’t harm any of my people.” His tail flicked back. It felt like the slow dripping of his patience as it ran thinner every moment.
She placed a hand on her father’s arm. “See? Nothing so terrible.”
His expression softened as he looked at his daughter. He turned back to Revi with fierceness burning in his eyes. “Keep your promise. Protect her with your life.”
Revi just stared at him. He’d already said he would. The man was lucky Revi wasn’t taking insult to the man doubting his word. Again.
Kienna tugged on her father’s arm, pulling him away from the gate. Revi edged away as they embraced and murmured to each other. He could hear them, but he had no interest in human sentiment. It was bad enough he’d have to endure her for a year to appease Enlo while he continued to look for his own way to break the curse—even if she was beautiful and had a steely determination.
After several minutes, Kienna turned back to the gate. Her green eyes shone with unshed tears, but she looked at Revi with a steadiness he envied.
“I’m ready.”
“Okryno,” Revi murmured. The gate swung open on silent hinges.
He moved to the side as she stepped forward, a saddlebag in her arms. As soon as she was clear of the gate, he spoke the closing word. It swung shut behind her. The crashing sound made her jump, and she looked back at it with wide eyes. Her hands tightened on her bag. She stared at her father, who gripped the gate with white knuckles, before she turned and started with hesitant steps toward Revi.
He turned toward the castle. He had no desire to walk at her pace. He’d find her new maid and send her for the human.
To his surprise, she caught up to him after a moment and matched his pace. His head reached a little higher than her waist; she was not a slight human, but she looked like she’d still break if he so much as batted at her.
They’d reached the front stairs leading to the doors when she cleared her throat. “I brought the rose with me.”
He ignored the instinctive anger at the idea of a human possessing his rose. “Keep it until our bargain is complete.”
She was silent only another two breaths. “Is there anything else I should know living here? Any other conditions to the bargain? Or… not formal parts of the bargain, but rather, anything that would make this stay easier on everyone?”
Revi missed a step. He had expected her to put on a brave face in front of her father. He had also thought that once she was alone with him, she would want nothing more than to retreat to her own space. Not to look at him. Not to speak to him. Certainly not to ask questions on how best to collaborate for the duration of her stay. Her bravery ran deeper than he’d expected.
Enlo’s needling voice came to the back of his mind.
“It would be in good form if we—” He hated how uncertain his voice sounded. The rest of the words came out in a growl. “If we dined together every night. And spent time together during the days occasionally.”
“Every...” She trailed off. “All right,” she said, not quite grimacing but doing an admirable job hiding her fear, though she couldn’t hide it from her scent, and it set him on edge. “Anything else?”
His nostrils flared. She smelled so good even with that spring-like hint to her scent—his thoughts cut off as recognition poured into him. He snarled and prowled toward her. Alarm flashed across her face, and she stumbled back several steps.
“Where is it?” he snarled. “Where’s your elven magic?”
Her eyes widened. “My—”
“You have something made by elves. It reeks of their magic. Drop it on the floor.”
Wordlessly, she reached into her skirts and withdrew a smooth blue stone. Revi studied it. He hadn’t seen a stone like that in a very long time.
“Razkrys.”
Magic flared through the stone, revealing its workings to him. Something related to communication, probably over great distances. He huffed out the stink of elven magic, like a breath of spring growth and rich earth, from his nose.
“You may not keep that while you stay.”
“It was a gift,” she said, her voice soft, almost timid.
“Nevertheless,” he growled. “Leave it there on the floor. Someone will come collect it.” He turned away and started walking again.
She only hesitated briefly before she followed him. The scent of the elven magic receded. Good. She hadn’t tried to pick it up again.
“You smell magic?” she asked after a moment, her voice wavering but lanced with curiosity.
“I can smell a great many things.”
When they reached the door to the castle, it swung open. Her steps faltered behind him.
“Is there anything else I need to know?”
He didn’t answer.
Beyond the door, a young Elyri woman waited. She was lithe and small, a full head shorter than Kienna. At the arrival of her prince and the human, she dropped into a deep bow. He didn’t know her name, he realized. He should have asked Enlo for it.
“This is your maid. If you need anything, she’ll help you.”
The Elyri woman straightened and then bowed again.
Kienna gave her a small smile. “I’m Kienna.”
The woman blinked and cast a glance at Revi. “My... my prince… I don’t speak this language.”
He frowned. Of course she didn’t. She was not one of the nobles gifted with language as a child or an ambassador to other Courts, but she would need to be able to communicate with Kienna. Silently, he approached the young woman and pressed his nose to her hand.
“Zenovor.” The magic left him in a sudden whoosh, the feeling akin to being kicked in the chest. He dug his claws into the marble floor to steady himself, but still his legs swayed beneath him.
Kienna took a half step forward. “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice almost concerned.
The Elyri woman’s eyes widened as she realized what he had done. “I will bear your gift with honor, my prince,” she murmured, bowing deeply.
Revi lashed his tail, ill at ease with her gratitude. “Just take care of the woman. She’s your charge. Help her with whatever she needs.”
“Yes, my prince.” The woman turned to Kienna and switched to Kasmian Common like she’d been born speaking it. “Welcome to the Winter Court, my lady.”
Kienna’s eyebrow tilted up, and she grinned. “You do speak Common. I was worried for a moment.”
The woman stole a glance at Revi but said nothing.
“My name is Kienna. What’s yours?”
“Zoya,” the maid said, barely hesitating at Kienna’s bold, thoughtless question; humans didn’t know how personal it was to ask an Elyri for their name. “Come, my lady. I’ll show you to your quarters.”
Kienna nodded but she cast another glance at Revi. “Is there anything else I should know while I stay here, Winter Prince?”
Irritation flared under Revi’s skin. “Yes.” The word came out as a guttural growl. “Don’t ask any more questions. And don’t call me Winter Prince.”
Kienna’s brow shot up, and Zoya’s eyes widened.
“What would you rather I call you?” Kienna asked.
Revi didn’t know the answer to that. He only knew that every time she called him Winter Prince, it grated under his skin. It felt like a mockery. It was the Winter Court only in name—there was no winter left in his home.
“Nothing. Call me nothing.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Kienna snapped, losing her composure for the first time. “You can’t expect me to call you nothing.”
“Then pick something else,” he growled. “Just do not call me that.”
“Well, why don’t I call you Beast, then?”
“Perfect. It’s fitting.” With the irritation of her under his skin and the tantalizing smell of her in his nostrils urging him to act on his predatorial hunting instincts, he felt like little more than a beast. He moved away, leaving the human with her maid.
“I’ll see you at dinner, Beast,” she called after him, something like a taunt edging her voice.