The prince growls, though it’s a distinct growl of frustration, not one that indicates he’s about to attack the girl. I carefully watch the interaction unfold, ready to intervene if he decides to hurt her.
I’ll summon my wings and slice his throat with the sharp, pointed edges if I must.
The girl falls to her knees. “Please, please, please,” she repeats over and over. She’s in complete hysterics, the poor thing, apparently convinced she’s drawn the ire of Prince Lucas, never mind that he just complimented her skills and announced she would receive a raise. Perhaps she thinks it’s a trick or that he’s cruelly toying with her.
I exchange a look with the prince, and I can’t be sure, but he appears uncertain. Almost regretful. It reaffirms my belief that he’s never actually harmed any of the females he’s taken to his quarters in whatever human castle we’re occupying.
Though I remain tense and the surges of protectiveness for the girl keep coming, I’m able to take a deep breath that’s somewhat calming. It helps take the edge off my need to steal away with the girl. Not that I’m sure what I would do with her if I took her into my possession.
A crowd has gathered around us, and I shoot murderous looks around the banquet hall. My comrades want blood. They’re hungry for it. They want to watch as Prince Lucas smashes the girl’s skull on the stone floor. It’s happened before, though never with a female servant. Only males. I’ve watchedthe prince kill because it was expected of him. It’s expected of him now, but I don’t believe he’ll do it. If he tries to appease the crowd with violence, it’ll be the last thing he ever does.
I watch as Prince Lucas steps down from the dias and lifts the sobbing girl to her feet. It’s all I can do to keep from snarling as he holds her up. He’s touching her, and it should be me touching her. Not him.
He makes brief eye contact with the girl, and she suddenly ceases crying. A glamour, I realize. He’s glamoured her into a state of calm. Then he quickly walks her through the crowd, and I get the sense that he wants to remove her from the presence of the bloodthirsty onlookers as quickly as possible.
As he walks her through the gathering, I follow closely, not taking my eyes off the pretty human female’s golden head.
“Sorry to disappoint, my dear friends, but I prefer to fuck in private,” Prince Lucas calls out, and the spectators laugh and start to scatter.
It’s a ruse, I remind myself.It’s just a ruse.He’s not really going to fuck her.
Yet I keep following, and once they reach the hallway that contains the prince’s quarters, I summon an invisibility shield and move even closer, careful to keep my footfalls light.
The prince ushers the young woman into his quarters and shuts the door, but I press my ear to the wood and listen. I’ll flash into his quarters and bludgeon him to death with my fists if he even tries to hurt her.
“Please have a seat wherever you’d like,” I hear him say in a casual tone. “Get comfortable. I won’t hurt you.”
Seconds later, she starts screaming.
The glamour. He must’ve lifted the glamour.
Of course he did. He needs the bloodthirsty crowd in the banquet hall to hear her screams. He needs them to think he’s tormenting her. He needs the soldiers, other highborn fae, andhis advisors to believe he’s as cruel as his two older brothers, both of whom have had turns leading the Summer Court army.
Still, just to make sure he’s not truly harming her, I flash into the room all while keeping my invisibility shield in place. I’m taking a huge risk, yet I cannot resist the overwhelming urge to guard the female’s safety. If the prince knew I had the ability to bypass the numerous wards he’s erected around his quarters, he would likely dismiss me as general, and I’m careful to remain quiet. I worry that if I summon a soundproof bubble around myself, he’ll finally sense my magic and detect my presence. So, I stand utterly still against the wall as I observe the goings-on in the room.
Relief fills me when I glimpse the prince seated on a plush chair, drinking a bottle of wine as the girl continues to sob and scream. She’s in hysterics again, but she’s safe. He doesn’t appear inclined to hurt her.
But if he tries, or if I suspect he’s even contemplating it, I’ll end him before he can take his next breath.
Why am I so drawn to this golden-haired female?
What is it about her that makes my chest tight and makes me want to slaughter any individual who’s ever done her wrong?
My mouth goes dry, and I gulp hard. My heart thumps so loudly in my chest, I’m surprised the prince doesn’t hear it over the girl’s screaming. Like me, he’s always had exceptional hearing.
An unnerving thought strikes me, and I almost gasp.
Could this female be my fated mate?
I stare at her, astounded, as I contemplate the possibility. It’s rare for a fae to be fated to a full-blooded human. And I’m not just any fae, I’m a highborn one. I’m the highly respected and feared general of the Summer Court army, and I’ve never lost a battle. How could I be fated to a human? Most highborns are fated to other highborns. I should be fated to a highborn faefemale who commands powerful magic and exceptional battle skills.
I suppress a growl as I remind myself that my oldest friend, Lord Kaiden, otherwise known as Warden Valloc, recently mated with a human... sort of. A highborn fae just like me, he believed the female named Mira was fully human when he set out to claim her, only to later discover she was part-fae.
But as I study the weeping human female, I don’t believe she possesses any fae ancestry. She’s so tiny, there’s simply no way. Her delicate ears are curved rather than pointed, and though she has expressive, soulful blue eyes, they don’t glimmer the same way a fae’s would.
No. She’s not my mate. She’s just an attractive human female who’s garnered my admiration and nothing more.
Yet I cannot summon the will to depart Prince Lucas’s quarters, and I eventually resolve to stay all night if I must. I’ll stay until he sets her free, and I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to her in the aftermath of her release. Then I’ll depart Sorsston when the majority of the army leaves in a few days, and I’ll never see her again. This last thought makes my chest tighten further, but I push the feeling away.
