Chapter 3
The shriek that tears from my throat hardly sounds human.
I scramble back, the stream splashing around me, as the cat-sized beast lands in the water before it lunges again. Its sharp fangs gleam under the dimming light, red eyes crazed and bloodthirsty.
I take another step, and my foot slips on a pile of loose stones. I go under.
Cold crashes over my head. The shock steals the air from my lungs. I inhale on instinct, and water floods my chest.
The creature lands on top of me, shoving me down.
I claw at the beast, fighting to plant my feet, but the stones roll under me. I’m weightless. Spinning. Drowning.
Panic floods my senses. My thoughts fracture.
Then the weight of the creature disappears.
A steel arm wraps around my waist and jerks me upright with neck-snapping strength.
My head breaks the surface.
Air!
I choke and cough, hacking the stream water from my lungs. I blink to clear the stinging from my eyes just in time to see the terrifying creature scamper into the underbrush on the riverbank.
“Were you trying to drown?”
That voice… Deep. Controlled. Infuriating.
My heart slams against my ribs, and my magic goes haywire, slithering through my veins, pressing against my skin.
I twist. Rian’s silver eyes ensnare mine.
He’s drenched, clothes plastered to his body.
The dark, soaked fabric outlines every taut, sculpted line of his chest and arms. His hair, normally tousled yet regal, drips onto his cheekbones, making him look less like a prince and more like some ancient, wild god pulled straight from the stream itself.
His arm is still locked around my waist, his body hot against mine. Too hot. The heat radiates through the chilled water that bites at my skin.
Realization slams into me.
I’m naked.
I gasp and shift to cover myself, but the motion only presses me closer against him.
My breasts flatten against the hard muscles of his forearm. His gaze flickers down once, and silver light flares in his eyes like lightning striking metal.
The shadows on my arms whirl and spin, dancing with joy to be in the proximity of their master.
Their master…
The fire within me dwindles to embers.
“Let me go,” I demand, voice trembling.
His eyes flare bright, then he releases me.
“Ah!” I fall back into the water.
My feet slide out from under me.
“For fuck’s sake!” Rian’s hands find my waist, and he hauls me up. “Can’t you swim?”
“Of course I can,” I cough out with a glare.
“Yeah?” He scoffs and shifts, lowering me until my feet find the streambed. “Prove it.”
Once I get my legs under me, he lets go. I tuck my arms over my breasts and drop into the water so only my shoulders are exposed.
My body is caught between two extremes: the frigid bite of the water and the molten heat lingering where his hands touched my skin.
Rian stands in the waist-deep water, his expression unreadable.
“You can go now,” I mutter.
His lips curve into an insufferable smirk. “Can I?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “Now, leave. I need to bathe.”
His gaze dips down to the surface of the water. I’m not sure how much he sees in that swift glance, but the silver in his eyes is absolutely volatile as he turns on his heel and stomps away.
“Fine. Just don’t drown. You’re no use to me dead.”
My blood boils. “I wasn’t going to drown!”
“No?” His boots squelch as he steps onto the muddy bank. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Any appreciation I have for the fact he jumped in to save me, fully clothed, withers up like dried thistleweed leaves.
After everything he’s done…the lies…the deceit…how dare he talk to me like some pretentious little ass. No, a pretentious little prince.
Good sense leaves me. That’s the only excuse I have for the words that fly from my mouth.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?”
Rian stills. With predatory precision, he faces me where I hunch naked in the river.
It’s not the most formidable position, but I don’t care.
“Apologize?” His voice cools like the water sliding over my skin.
“Yes.” I lift my chin. “Apologize.”
There was a moment at the Late King’s Festival where the pull between us seemed mutual. I believed Rian was as drawn to me as I am to him.
As I was to him.
But it was all a trick. A lie. He needed me to cure Darius. He still does.
Sure, Rian released me from our first deal, but I don’t believe he truly intended to leave me in Verdanthia.
Agitated shadows slither along his shoulders. “What in the revered Mother’s name do I have to apologize for, Sunshine?”
“Don’t call me that.”
Shadows curl down his arms, encircling his wrists. “What? Sunshine?”
“Yes.” I sneer. “It’s belittling.”
“On the contrary, Elara.” His tongue coats my name with sickly sweet venom that makes me want to shudder and shiver in equal measure. “It’s charming. As am I. So again I ask what do I have to apologize for?”
“Charming?” I scoff. “Please.”
He takes a single step forward. “What do I have to apologize for, Elara?”
“You lied to me.”
“I never lied.”
“You let me believe Silas was a human prisoner.”
Now that same Fae is off scouting, allegedly meeting us at our unknown destination after searching for whatever it is the Shadow Prince asked him to find.
Gray smoke peeks through Rian’s piercing silver irises. “That deception was not designed for you.”
“Then who was it designed for?”
The Elders? Or all of Verdanthia? And for what purpose?
Shadows flare, covering Rian’s expression before drawing back to reveal his hard, handsome face. “That’s none of your concern.”
A shiver races down my spine. I tell myself it’s from the cold water.
“Why not?”
“Because no matter the wrongs done to you by those in Verdanthia, you are still determined to view us as the enemy.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Because you are the enemy!”
Rian’s eyes dip.
I hurry to clamp my arms back over my chest.
“Think what you will, Elara, but my men and I are not working against you.”
“Then let me go back to Ferria.”
His jaw tightens. “I can’t. Not until Darius is cured.”
“Surely someone else can help him now?” I ask, desperate. “You can find a more experienced—”
“There is no one more experienced,” he cuts in. “No one has ever done what you did.”
The truth in his words sinks like a stone in my gut. “Truly?”
“Truly.” For once, his voice softens.
Barely.
His silver gaze steadies on me, the stunning color dimming, giving way to his usual smoky irises. “Now, bathe before complete darkness falls. And for the love of the Mother, try not to drown again.”
He turns to the shore with an air of indifference that stings far more than it should.
“I hate you,” I whisper.
Rian pauses and looks over his shoulder. Amusement flickers over his features. “Oh, Elara. Now who’s the liar?”
He strides away before I can respond.
I stay there for several minutes, staring at the rippling water. The night closes around me, quieter now, broken only by the soft rush of the stream.
I force myself to move—to scrub, rinse, breathe—anything that isn’t thinking about Rian’s voice or his touch or the way my body melts in his hands.
By the time I climb out of the water, the moon and stars have overtaken the setting sun as the only light in the sky. I dry myself quickly and wrap the soft towel over my damp hair.
My limbs grow heavy, weighed down by physical and mental exhaustion. I slip on my chemise and gown, then make my way toward the soft glow of the campfire peeking through the trees.
The fire crackles in the center of the clearing, throwing shadows against the tree trunks lining the edge of our camp. Draven sits beside the flames, his massive arms braced on his knees. Darius lounges on a log closer to the pair of off-white tents, smirking at something Jaxon says next to him.
The smell of stew drifts through the air, rising from the charcoal pot sitting at the edge of the fire.
Before I even speak, Draven lifts his gaze. “You’ll sleep there.”
He jerks his chin toward the large midnight-blue tent. The prince’s tent.
My steps falter. “Excuse me?”
“Do you have wax in your ears?” Narrowed eyes meet mine. “You will sleep in the prince’s tent. He insists.”
Indignation rises even as my heart begins to race. “I will do no such thing.”
“It’s that or you sleep outside.”
I think of the monsters—of the feline-like beast who tried to attack me in the stream.
I shake my head. I won’t be able to sleep exposed to the elements and creatures roaming the forest. But I won’t be able to sleep next to Rian, either.
I lift my chin. “I will not sleep next to a man I despise.”
“The prince is no man.” Draven rises to his full height, though I don’t get the sense he’s trying to intimidate me.
It’s more like his honor won’t allow him to remain seated while his precious prince is criticized.
He continues, “And don’t flatter yourself. The prince won’t be sleeping here tonight.”
I blink. “He won’t?”
“No.” He sits back down and stares at the fire. “He’s gone to find a more comfortable bed. And, I imagine, more amiable company.”
The shadows on my arm draw taut, tugging at my skin, as the proof that the pull I felt at the Late King’s Festival was one-sided twists my stomach.
I swallow back bile, resisting the urge to scratch the marks. “Good. One less asshole to deal with.”
Draven smirks. “Whatever you say, little healer. Now, do you want to eat?”
Begrudgingly, I place my damp towel over a tree branch, then walk over. I sit on the opposite side of the fire, turning my legs to the side and tucking my skirt under my thighs.
Draven ladles stew into a wooden bowl and hands it to me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I eat mechanically, not tasting the flavor of the delicious-smelling stew.
Across the flames, Darius speaks to Draven, but I tune them out.
My gaze drifts to the dark forest, in the direction I last saw Rian. The trees stand silently, their shadows deep and ominous.
I tip my head back and stare at the stars spilling across the night sky, and I swear I can still feel his presence. The brush of his power. The phantom heat of his hands on my skin. The echo of his voice caressing my name.
Olyra, help me.
What if Rian is right?
What if I don’t hate him?
But if I don’t hate the Shadow Prince…what kind of traitor does that make me?