I felt an impulse to comfort him. If only he knew how much I could relate. “How do you think faeries would treat humans; hypothetically, if I was able to open a door to Erador?”
He came to a dead stop, surprising me as he pulled me to him in one smooth motion. His arms wrapped around me as our bodies molded together. He was too close; his seductive scent, his charming smile… those canines.
“If the leaders of our two worlds met, I believe we could come to an agreement that would satisfy all. It would just take a little…balance,” he said, before cradling my head and dipping me back. His nose brushed against mine before I shimmied out of his grasp and glared at him.
I wanted to believe him, but it had been the polished Prince who’d answered, not the one who had dreams of his own.
All I could envision was the worst-case scenario; magic-starved faeries pillaging human villages, leaving a trail of blood. Taking over economically, then politically. They were powerful enough to make every human in Erador a slave—curse or no curse. And like Galen had said, faeries were just as susceptible to greed as humans. A faerie set on destruction—they’d be capable ofunimaginabledevastation.
A vision from last night’s dream appeared; Ophelia sobbing into her hands. She’d looked so vulnerable, so helpless. I never wanted her to feel that way again. I wouldn’t let her down. I wouldn’t let my world down.
“I think some would take what they wanted, rather than obey a treaty that was signed by a few world leaders.”
“Then it seems that I’ll have to convince you otherwise. We’re not mindless, blood-thirsty beasts. Let me prove it to you.” He took my hand in his and kissed it. I jerked it away, but the glint in his eyes told me he liked a challenge.
It was refreshing that he didn’t seem to mind my opinions. In Aurelius, intelligence in women was not a virtue—neither was a loud mouth. Here, it seemed that women stood on equal ground. So far, from what I’d seen, they could dress how they wanted and say what they wanted. I’d even seen women dressed in armor, standing amongst male soldiers.
I observed the villagers, both in animal and Fae form, going about their everyday life. I’m sure some were good, some were bad, and most were simply trying to get by—just like humans. I didn’t fault them for the curse or for what they were, but I couldn’t help them—not in the way Galen wanted me to. Not when they’d acquired a taste for human blood.
After visiting the seamstress, we weaved our way through the streets, back towards our horses. A scuffle outside of a tavern caught my attention. Two large men were laughing as they pushed a woman back and forth—snapping their teeth at her. I watched in horror as one of them held a flame in front of her face and the other restrained her.
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d rushed over and kicked the faerie holding the woman in the shin. He yelped in surprise and let go. I sheltered her with my body and hissed at them like a cat protecting her kitten.I’m not sure who was more surprised: Me, the woman, or the men… perhaps Galen. He trotted over, Robert at his side.
“Who do you think ye are, girlie, starting a fight with a man twice your size? How’d you know I like them feisty?” A tall, thickly built, blonde male sneered down at me.
The other one turned towards Galen. “What is the meaning of this, Prince? Are you going to start getting between us and our sources?” He stood up straight, puffing up his chest, towering over all of us. He had to be at least seven feet tall. “Because if you are, then you’re asking for war.” His brown hair was sweaty and matted to his head. His eyes were wild, like he was hungry—like he wouldn’t think twice before punching a Prince.
“Let’s all take a moment to calm ourselves. I apologize for my friend’s behavior—she doesn’t know how to pick on someone her own size.” Galen flashed me a look, daring me to contradict him.
I dared.
“You mean todefendthese men? They were pushing a woman around in broad daylight? Imagine what they do behind closed doors!” I hadn’t eased my grip on her. I quickly assessed her condition. She was about my height—shorter than the average faerie, with shiny black hair and skin the color of cinnamon. She seemed unharmed, staying silent while the men argued.
“Marigold…” Galen glowered. It sounded like a warning and a plea.Don’t make things worse.
“It’s our right to fight for our source. She’s been hoarding a human. We were only encouraging her to share,” the blonde one argued.
“He doesn’t want you to drink from him. His blood is not mine to share.And not yours to take,” the woman bit back with teeth of her own.
The brunette held up his fist, readying himself to fight. I tugged the woman along and ducked behind Robert and Galen. I knew how to start a fight, but hadn’t a clue on how to end one.
It all happened at once. The brunette swung at Galen, the blonde at Robert. Galen crouched in time, but Robert didn’t. A fist grazed the side of his face, knocking him off balance.
He recovered, but the blonde was ready. Sword out, he charged the guard. Robert stepped to the side and tripped the blonde, who fell hard. One beat later he was up, circling the guard, his eyes narrowed with malice.
Galen came at the brunette, fists bared, not bothering with his sword, ready to strike when the moment presented itself. The brunette pulled a dagger out from somewhere and came at Galen, lifting the knife high and aiming the strike in a downward motion towards his shoulder. Galen dodged and came around, punching him in the lower back. The brunette fell fast and hard—shaking the ground as his body made impact with the dirt.
As we turned to look at the fallen man groaning on the ground, the other one struck. He grabbed me by the hair, balling it up in his fist, while he pulled me towards him. Wherever his hand went, my useless body followed.
His cutlass was cold against my collar bone, sitting diagonally across my chest. It was so sharp that with each panicked breath, it sliced deeper. I could feel warm liquid pooling in the fabric of my gown. I tried not to panic, but the tangy smell of fresh blood—my blood—made me see stars.
“I can tell that you’d be a spit fire in bed. Do ye like it rough, girly? I bet you do,” he whispered, pushing his hips against my backside. I jerked away from him, preferring the steel of the blade to his touch.
“Prince, give us Melisandre back and I’ll give you your woman,” he snarled through gritted teeth. He smelled like sweat and stale beer. I whimpered as he pulled my head down to his chest and sniffed at my hair. He groaned, making me dry heave in response.
The position change caused the sword to push against my breasts, slicing deep. I gasped in pain. “She has magic! I can smell it in her blood. Maybe I’ll just take her instead,” he said.
He had me in such a tight hold, I couldn’t look around, but I could feel a blast of hot air as Galen’s power surged and he shouted, “ENOUGH.”