CHAPTER 4
TRISTAN
It’sher.The pretty, blonde human female who’s occupied my thoughts for months on end.
Amelia.
She’s frozen in place, her eyes wide with terror, and I don’t like it when she looks at me with a panicked expression. I attempt to gentle my visage, and I hold my hands out in a show of peace, but it doesn’t seem to quell her fear.
She takes a slow step back, though she doesn’t turn and run off like she did during the attack on Glenville.
Surely she must realize there’s no escape. Not this time. It’s just the two of us. There are no human soldiers to distract me.
“You made it impressively deep into the forest,” I say, matching each step she takes backward with a forward step of my own. The familiar warmth I’d experienced when our eyes met in the Sorsston castle returns, and I again start to contemplate the possibility that she’s my fated mate.
“Let me go,” she whispers.
“I can’t let you go, sweet human. Do you really think I’ll leave you alone and unprotected in the middle of the ussha-blessed forest?” I gesture at the glimmering leaves on the nearest tree. “It’s not safe here. Come nightfall, this forest will be crawling with deadly fae creatures with a taste for human flesh.”
“I’ll take my chances.” She lifts her chin, and an air of determination emanates from her. Her bravery is admirable, but I still won’t leave her alone and unprotected in this forest.
I’m taking her with me no matter what. I need to discover whether she’s my fated mate, even though I’ve spent the last few months trying to convince myself it couldn’t be possible.
“You aren’t wearing a pack anymore,” I say as I take another slow step toward her, my hands still out in a show of peace. “Did you lose it? Or did someone take it from you?” If someone robbed her, I’ll hunt the thief down and make them pay.
She winces, then blinks fast a few times, and I start to worry she’s in pain. Moments ago, she appeared to be limping, but I assumed perhaps it was a result of running through the forest for a lengthy period. Humans don’t have the same endurance as fae.
“I left it somewhere,” she finally says. “Not that it’s any of your business.” Another wince. Yes, she must be in pain.
I scan her body, but with her clothing on, it’s difficult to tell where she’s injured. Speaking of her attire, she’s wearingmen’sclothing. Her husband’s?
Jealousy heats my blood, but as I step closer and take a deep inhale, I don’t detect the scent of a male on her, human or otherwise. How very strange.
Months ago, when I last saw her in Sorsston, she was betrothed to an old lord. Perhaps the wedding never happened.
Even if she’d gotten married a full six months ago, if the union was consummated, I would still be able to detect the aroma of a human male’s seed on her. I resolve to ask her about it later.
“I remember you from Sorsston, sweet human.” I take another inhale of her scent, only to pause when I detect something sour. Like an infection. Or… venom. Alarm fills me. If she’s injured, I must treat her soon. Humans aren’t as quick to heal as fae or orcs.
“I remember you, too.” Her eyes flash with what I think is accusation, and she lifts her chin even higher. “I know you’re General Dalgaard. You’re responsible for thousands of deaths in my home city. Thousands of deaths in other human cities and towns too, I would imagine.”
“It’s my duty to lead the Summer Court army as we defend fae interests in the human and orc lands. If your people don’t want to be attacked and killed, perhaps they should stop attacking our new fae settlements.” I’ve never felt so defensive of my position as general, but seeing the condemnation in her soulful blue eyes has affected me more profoundly than I would care to admit. It’s making me second guess my purpose in life. I grew up wanting to be the fiercest soldier my people have ever known. Given how quickly I moved up the ranks and attained the position of general, I believe I’ve accomplished my goal.
I’ve never wanted anything more in life… until I stared into her eyes in the Sorsston castle.
Why didn’t I take possession of her then?
I could’ve stolen her from her parents’ house after Prince Lucas dropped her off, then kept her as my little war prize.
She narrows her eyes and draws in a breath, clearly about to offer a retort, another judgment on my character, but I clear my throat and hold up a finger.
“You’re hurt, Amelia.”
She glances down at her right leg before settling a questioning look on me. “How is it you know my name? Are you truly in the habit of learning the names of the servants fromall the castles you wrongfully occupy? Or do you only learn the names of the women you hurt?”
“I don’t normally learn the names of servants from conquered kingdoms, no, I will admit that, but I know your name because I overheard you telling Prince Lucas.” I consider her comment about only learning the names of the women I hurt. Is she accusing me of violating women in the kingdoms I conquer? I’m about to refute this claim of hers when she finally replies.
“Prince Lucas?” A look of confusion descends on her. “I-I don’t recall ever speaking with Prince Lucas. He’s a Summer Court prince, I take it? Anyway, I don’t recall him being in Sorsston.”
