Chapter 33
I study his face, struggling to comprehend his words. “What?” The confusion etched across his features mirrors my own, the silence between us thick with unspoken understanding.
“Who said I would have minded?” The boldness in my voice surprises even me. Closing the distance between us, I hold his gaze without flinching, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. My tongue darts out to moisten suddenly dry lips, the space between us charged with something I can’t quite define.
His pale complexion seems to luminesce before me, his skin taking on an almost ethereal glow. The sight is mesmerizing, but it’s fleeting, as he recoils–a reaction so sudden it catches me off guard. Is that fear shadowing his expression? The realization unsettles me, and I feel a flicker of doubt burn through me. “Please,” he chokes out, his voice tightening with desperation. His eyes widen, a mix of regret and something darker flickering in them. “Forgive me.” Before I can respond, he turns to flee.
Instinctively, my hand shoots out, fingers closing around his wrist. “You can’t just leave. What’s wrong?” The moment my skin makes contact with his, something strange happens–an odd white substance begins seeping from where I touch him, pooling beneath my fingertips like some unknown liquid force. I release him immediately, horror washing over me as I fear I might be causing harm.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps, wrenching free before slamming the door behind him. The sound of it crashing against the stone walls leaves a hollow echo in the room. Alone again, I press trembling fingers to my temples, the world tilting around me. What in hell’s name just happened?
Later that afternoon, restless energy drives me toward the library, my thoughts a chaotic whirlpool of questions and feelings I can’t untangle. As I fasten a more modest dress–still unsettled by the morning’s events–a knock interrupts my preparations, sending a flutter of unease through me.
My pulse stutters at the thought of Thalric returning, but the door creaks open, revealing not him, but a stranger. My disappointment is immediate, though a strange relief courses through my veins too.
“Enter,” I call, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.
The woman steps inside, her nerves almost palpable. She can’t be more than twenty–eight, but her eyes hold an anxiety that suggests much more. She hovers near the doorway like a spooked deer, unsure of her welcome.
“Good day, Your Grace.” Her voice trembles with the weight of her introduction.
“Good day,” I offer, my tone warmer than I intend, hoping to ease her discomfort. I can see she’s new, perhaps overwhelmed by the change of position.
“I–I’m Zoey. Your new personal maid.” Her gaze remains fixed to the floor as she executes an unnecessarily deep curtsy, and I can’t help but smile slightly, dismissing her awkwardness as new–job jitters.
“Please, call me Aurelia.” When she doesn’t respond immediately, I continue, trying to make her feel more at ease. “I’m heading to the library. Would you care to join me?”
She nods jerkily, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste, and I suppress a laugh, deciding it’s best not to mention her nervousness.
The evening air greets us with a refreshing coolness as we walk, the crispness helping to clear my troubled mind. The last remnants of the day’s heat retreat, and with it, my mounting discomfort.
10:15
“Well, I didn’t expect to encounter you this way,” a voice interrupts, and my body locks in place at the
sound.
Every muscle freezes. The prince. The one who had wanted me dead simply because I am a fae mate. That particular mystery still festers, one I haven’t been able to resolve.
I force myself to incline my head, offering a polite nod. “I’m Mateo, crown prince of this kingdom,” he announces, his voice cutting through the air, colder than any storm. His eyes, too, are cold, but they linger on me, far too thorough. “A shame my brother hasn’t properly introduced us.” Without permission, he seizes my hand, attempting to brush his lips across my knuckles, his touch chilling.
“Brother,” Thalric’s voice cuts through the hall like winter frost, sharp and biting. “You’re unexpected.”
Mateo maintains his grip on my hand, his fingers tightening around mine. “Since when do I need permission to visit family?” That serpent’s smile spreads across his lips, promising nothing good.
“What do you want?” Thalric’s irritation is clear, his voice low and dangerous, and the atmosphere
thickens with tension.
“We’ll talk later, love,” Mateo purrs, his voice lingering on the word “love,” sending goosebumps racing down my arms. Only when he releases me can I finally breathe again.
Thalric and I stand in charged silence, his gaze searching mine, as if trying to communicate something without words. Then his attention shifts to Zoey behind me, and without another word, he strides off toward his brother, his steps purposeful, heavy with intent.
“Zoey?” I murmur, breaking the silence that has settled uncomfortably between us.
“Yes, my lady?” She steps closer, her earlier nervousness seemingly forgotten. Her voice holds a new resolve, though her unease is far from gone.
“Let’s go. “I move with such haste that she nearly has to run to keep up. The faster we put distance between us and the princes, the more the oppressive weight of the situation begins to lift. Only when we’ve reached the sanctuary of the library do I finally exhale, the tension unwinding ever so slightly from my shoulders.
“Forgive my boldness, my lady, but… does the king unsettle you?” The question comes without the earlier tremors, a sign that she’s beginning to settle into the role, to feel more at ease.
“It’s… complicated,” I admit, my voice tinged with exhaustion. I don’t elaborate, though I know she expects more. She nods wisely, her silence saying all that needs to be said.
In the library, I select a book at random, the title irrelevant. Anything to distract from the madness that’s overtaken me. But the words blur before my eyes as my thoughts drift elsewhere–home, to Nolie’am Nola, How could I have forgotten her, even momentarily? Guilt crashes over me like a wave, the weight of my neglect hitting me all at once.
The tears come without warning, hot and unforgiving, slipping down my cheeks as memories flood back–her terrible jokes, her endless doting, her love. How could I not have thought of her before now?
“Zoey?” I clear my throat, trying to disguise the thickness in my voice.
“Yes, my lady?” She responds immediately, a quiet curiosity underlying her words.
“You’re fae, aren’t you?” I ask, my back still turned so she won’t see my weakness. The thought of her
10:45
16.53%
witnessing me cry is unbearable.
“Of lower caste, yes… my queen.” The unnecessary title settles uneasily in my stomach. I am just Thalric’s mate. Nothing more.
“Could you… teleport me?” The urgency in my voice surprises even me. The need to confirm something -anything–consumes me. I need to see her resting place, if the rumors are true.
“Your Grace?!” Her shock vibrates through the room, the weight of my request hanging heavy in the air.
“Take me to my pack. Now.”
