Someone.
The first initial jolt of wakefulness happened five years ago. Then. . .nothing. But the stronger the mind, the deeper it burrowed into sleep. The longer it took to wake. . .the more destructive the ripples when triggered to full consciousness.
And two weeks ago, something psychic had picked me up and flung me across a graveyard, roaring in sudden, shocking fury.
The female stepped towards me again, but the male jerked his head around. She cursed at him, her hands frozen.
“I said I wouldn't if I were you,” he repeated.
“Release me.”
Heignoredus both. She was all mouth and flash, but he was stronger, the one to fear.
A Fae male emerged from the tree line.
If the mages' power was an acid tang, his was a glacial maelstrom, with him in the deceptively calm eye.
I caught my labored breath, and finally understood the spellbound awe in the eyes of humans when they beheld us unglamoured. Touching my cheek, I wiped away a drop of moisture as his otherness swept through me.
Sick heat between my temples, throbbing, mocking my strength.
Then I recognized his face.
Sharp, aquiline bones, crafted in ageless, cruel perfection. Light brown skinpalefrom decades without sun.Ancienteyes stared at us, a color somewhere between moonlight and a summer sky, alternating between bright and colorless as if the glittering irises couldn't decide their hue. A white silk shirt draped broad, muscular shoulders and chest, his black hair shining with blue loose to his waist.
The mages froze, his prey the way we were theirs. They were High Fae, he. . .
Yes, I knew his face. Thesensual, but currently colorless, lips. The sinuous grace in the long, muscled planes of his lean body.
Not just High Fae, but an Old One. Finally awake after centuries of sleep, and five years ascending from the depths of his hibernating mind to emerge fully onto the living plane.
Halfling girl. Juhainah’s child.
A strike of agony. I hovered on the brink of snapping, mentally gnawing at myself like an animal caught in a trap.
A Prince. Accustomed to power, accustomed to rule. Everything in Everenne would change now.
Don't wake the fucking Prince.
You called me.
Gods. Light burst behind my eyes and I grit my teeth, willing the jagged migraine to slink away. Not now. Not now.
I’d known this was coming. For five years, I’d lived in constant dread, the last two weeks unbearable. Was he sane? Newly awake and sane were often opposing states.
Darkan? Where's your damn advicenow?
Silence.
I mentally slapped myself out of my reverie. Bad move. Reverberations increased the agony slowly gripping me. And yet, I must focus, must think. Must push past the pain.
Prince Renaud's head angled towards me, so slowly I wondered if he was relearning how to use his damn neck. He stared, unblinking, then dismissed me.
I struggled to breathe past asurgeof hatred. The emotion gave me some strength, rushing through sinew and bone.
I lurched to my feet, stumbled forward a few steps, dizzy, and collapsed back to my knees as my body declined to make itself a target.
That wasnothow I wanted to meet the Prince of Everenne, High Lord of House Montague, my sworn enemy. This was not how I wanted to face my mother'skillerfor the first time. My brother's captor.
