Chapter Three The Fox and the Fae

Chapter Three

The Fox and the Fae

Samara

I continued to feel nauseous throughout the evening and night. My stomach felt heavy; the ache was constant. I wondered as I worked to feed my brothers, clean the rug, and fix the fence if I would die by morning. Despite the pain, I smiled at the thought that my brothers would forfeit their payment of gold and silver. I wondered if this was what it felt like to have power, however little.

It was dark when I finished the fence, and I was frozen to the bone. I looked up at the sky, knowing I would see nothing but a dark void. The air was heavy with the smell of snow, crisp and crystalline. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with it. The cold felt good despite the sharp twist in my gut, and my breath clouded the air as I exhaled. I looked toward the barn where Rooster and Mouse were likely asleep and considered staying there on my final night at home, but instead, I gathered my lantern and cloak close and walked toward Daft Moor.

The night was still as I took the familiar, winding path to the bog. I had once found such comfort in this short stroll. Now all I felt was dread, but it seemed important to say goodbye, whether I died or left with the prince tomorrow.

As I neared, my heart began to race, and something thick gathered in my throat. I was frustrated by these emotions, still just as fresh and violent as they were seven years ago. I knew the feelings would cease with death, but would they with distance? Time surely had not helped.

The path dipped down into a valley with great boulders on either side, covered in browning moss. It was here I first met the fae who had offered his hand and the knife that had changed my life. I paused on the edge of the moor. I paused on the edge of the moor where, the rich scent of dark earth reached me. It held so many memories, both terrible and thrilling. I could not decide how to feel, though I didn't know why. This place had been a source of misery, yet I felt a pang of sadness leaving. There were things here I still loved—the house my father built, their bodies in their graves, the animals both wild and tamed, even the fae who had given me the knife, as ridiculous as it was—but now it was time to let those things go. They were anchors to a past that kept me a breath from the surface, drowning beneath the weight of things that were nothing but dreams.

"I had never felt such hope as I did when you came to my aid until today," I said. "I can finally let you go."

The lie tasted bitter in my mouth, but if I said it enough, maybe it would be true. I took one final breath of cold, rich air and turned to leave when I caught sight of two glowing eyes. I gasped and stepped back, tripping on a boulder, falling against it.

The creature blinked at me twice and then slipped out from where it hid between two large stones—the same stones from which the fae had offered the knife.

It was a fox, a beautiful fox with orange fur and white and black paws. He shook his head, large ears flip-flopping before he sat, curling his fluffy tail around his feet, and stared at me.

"I did not mean to startle you," he said.

It was my turn to blink. "Did you—"

"Talk?" he asked. "Yes."

I pressed my palms to my face. "I must be dead."

The fox's beady eyes narrowed.

"Not yet, though you soon will be. Let me lick your hand, and you shall be healed."

I hesitated.

"Trust me, wild one. I am here to help."

"Why?" I asked.

"I must," he answered but did not explain.

I offered my hand and felt the rough brush of the fox's tongue against my skin once, twice, three times before the pain in my stomach eased instantly. I pulled my hand back, examining the spot the fox had touched, but there was nothing. Then I pressed my hand to my stomach. It was no longer tender.

"You healed me," I said in quiet wonder.

"I would not lie," said the fox.

"Would not or could not?" I asked. The fox tilted his head as if he did not understand the question, so I asked, "Are you fae?"

Fae could not lie—it was not a choice.

The fox bristled his tail as if he did not like that question.

"I am a fox," he said.

"I have never met a fox who could talk."

"I am a fox who can talk."

We were both quiet, staring at each other, and then a wave of guilt made my skin feel flushed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Thank you for healing me."

"Do not thank me," he said. "Do as I say."

I frowned at his words, but he continued quickly.

"Tomorrow, the prince will arrive to take you away to his kingdom, but your carriage will be set upon by thieves. You must not move or make a sound, or they will kill you first. Wait, and you will be rescued."

"How do you know this?"

"I am a fox," he said.

"That hardly explains anything."

"It explains everything," he said.

"If this is true—"

"I would not lie," the fox reminded.

"Then perhaps I should not leave at all."

"You must," said the fox. "It has already been decided."

I did not know what to say, but the fox rose to his feet.

"Do not forget what I have said, or tomorrow, you will be dead."

Then he turned, tail swaying, and vanished into the dark between the stones. I stood there, staring, wondering what world I might find if I followed him.

Something cold touched my arm. When I looked, I saw snow melting on my skin. I lifted the lantern as icy crystals fell across the moor. The sound was silvery, beautiful like the laughter of the fae. It made me want to linger, and I did until the ground was covered with a thin layer of white I might have stayed there forever, under the spell of this magic until the blood froze in my veins, but a voice in the back of my mind was louder.

"Come away, Samara," it said. "There is nothing for you here but death."

I did not know who spoke, if it was my consciousness or the voice that called to me in my dreams, but it drew me away from the moor toward home.

The cottage was quiet and dark, save for the kitchen where the light from the hearth ignited the window, warm and welcoming. Anyone who passed would think it a quaint refuge from the cold, but it had been a long time since I'd felt safe beneath its roof. Instead of going inside to sleep, I made my way to the barn and rolled open the door, closing it quickly behind me.

When I turned, I found Rooster lying on a bed of hay. Mouse was curled up beside him sleeping. Rooster lifted his head and made a quiet, breathy sound as I approached.

I smiled and set the lantern down away from the hay.

"Hello, sweetling," I said, offering my hand, which he nuzzled before I caressed the space between his eyes, which fell closed. "It is good to see you. How was your day?"

He looked at me and then snorted as if to say how do you think ?

"I know," I said. "My brothers are not the easiest to get along with."

Rooster blew out a harsh breath.

"I will take you from them someday," I said, pulling away. I sat beside Mouse and hauled her into my lap. She woke briefly, to meow and yawn, and then curled into a ball to sleep again as I rested my back against Rooster's flank.

This was the safest I had felt in a long while, though I could not escape the guilt, knowing what tomorrow would bring. At dawn, the prince would arrive, and I would leave Rooster and Mouse behind. My stomach churned. I should have asked for more from the prince, but that decision likely would have proven fatal for my two friends. I did not doubt my brothers' ability to kill the two creatures I loved most in the world as retribution for my newfound freedom.

It would be safer to come for them after I left—if I left at all.

There was still a part of me that doubted Henry's return.

"Rooster, I have to tell you something," I said. "A prince has offered for my hand. He says he will come soon to collect me, not a moment before sunrise. I do not want to leave you—"

Rooster interrupted, making a sound deep in his throat and throwing his head back.

"I know it is a chance at a different life," I said. I did not want to say a better life, because I did not truly know that. "But I will never forgive myself if they harm you while I am away."

Rooster's neigh was quiet and deep, as if to say do not worry about me , but I would until I saw him again. I could not help feeling I was abandoning them to the cruelty of my brothers.

"I will ask the prince to send for you as soon as I am able," I promised.

He nuzzled my hair, and my eyes grew heavy, surrounded by their warmth. Finally, I fell into a deep sleep, unhindered by the haunting voice that had lulled me into slumber the last seven years.

* * *

I was roused by Mouse, who rubbed her head against my hand, purring loudly.

"What is it?" I asked, still half-asleep.

Rooster neighed deeply, and I had no choice but to get to my feet as he rolled to rise. I rubbed my eyes and realized why they were so alert—someone was coming. I could hear the rhythmic clop of hooves, and suddenly, my heart was pounding. I went to the door and pushed it open. It was still dark, but a faint orange light burned on the horizon. It reached far enough to glint off an approaching golden carriage pulled by four black horses.

My prince had come.

I watched as the coachman made a wide circle and came to a stop before my small, ruined cottage, now covered in fresh snow. Two footmen stepped down from the back, each dressed in regally cut coats the color of midnight and trimmed in glinting gold. One opened the door while the other pulled down a set of gilded steps, and then the prince emerged, dressed far more finely than he had been the day before. His surcoat glittered as the morning sun sliced across the yard, and his cloak was lined with fur as white as the snow on the ground. His eyes gleamed when he saw me, and he reached for my hand.

"Samara," he said, pressing his lips to my knuckles.

I could not help it. The corners of my lips lifted.

"Prince," I breathed.

His fingers tightened around mine, but a sharp sound drew our attention from each other to the door of the cottage where my three brothers stood.

"We had a deal, Prince," said Jackal.

Henry released my hand and stepped in front me as if to shield me from their sight.

"And I have honored it," said the prince.

Just then, the footmen rounded the carriage, heaving a massive chest that they dropped halfway between us and my brothers before opening it to reveal a towering pile of gold and silver. Michal's and Hans's eyes sparkled, but Jackal seemed unaffected by his new wealth, his hateful gaze boring into mine.

"Well?" Henry demanded.

Finally, Jackal's attention shifted to the prince. "I expect you will welcome us to your castle. We would very much like to visit our dear sister."

"Of course," said the prince, though tightly. "You shall be guests of honor at our wedding."

For a moment, no one spoke, and then the prince took a step back so that he stood beside me.

Even he did not trust my brothers enough to give them his back.

"Say your farewells, my darling," said Henry. "We are running late."

I did not move, only stared at my siblings, who had made my entire life up until this point completely miserable.

"Farewell," I said, but then I turned to Rooster and Mouse, who lingered in the doorway of the barn, and went to them. I scooped Mouse into my arms and held her close as I hugged Rooster's neck and whispered to them both. "I will return for you soon."

"Darling," the prince said.

Pressure built behind my eyes, but I refused to cry.

I turned toward the prince and met him at the carriage door.

"Do not fret," he said. "The misery ends today."

He took my hand and helped me into the carriage, and as I sank into the seat, I was surrounded by rich, red velvet. I had never seen such expensive fabrics or felt anything so soft. I clasped my hands between my thighs to keep from touching everything around me.

The prince sat across from me. He was so tall, our knees touched.

"Tell me now before we depart, did your brothers harm you in the night?"

I held his pretty, blue-eyed gaze and answered, "No, my lord."

It was an easy lie, because I had told it so often.

The prince stared at me, and I knew he did not believe me, but he also did not argue. He rapped on the ceiling, and I was jolted as the carriage surged forward. I stared out the large windows, watching my brothers as we passed, eyes connecting with Jackal's long enough that the coldness of his gaze froze my very blood. If he could have killed me then, he would have.

I turned my head away to look out the other window, spotting Rooster and Mouse watching our retreat, and pressed my hand to the window.

"I can send for your animals," said the prince.

I met his gaze.

"My brothers will demand a trade."

"Of course," said the prince. "I shall make the exchange tomorrow. Three fine stallions and seven feral cats for your one. Will that please you?"

I smiled at the thought of the prince unleashing seven feral cats on my brothers.

"I have never been asked that before," I said.

The prince smirked. "I shall ask it often."

A flush unfurled in my chest, warming my throat and face. I dropped my gaze to my hands, still clasped between my legs.

"Well?" asked the prince, and I looked at him. "You did not answer. Will that please you?"

I was quiet for a moment and then answered in a whisper, "Yes."

He grinned and seemed to relax.

We rode in silence for a few minutes as the carriage bounced along the winding snow-covered path. I kept my eyes focused outside, on the ominous tree line of the Enchanted Forest, near which we were currently traveling. I wondered how long we would be within her shadow.

"You look troubled," said the prince.

"I am only thinking of the forest," I said. "Do the fae go as far as Rook?"

"No village is safe from the creatures who reside within the Enchanted Forest," he said. His eyes darkened as he spoke, and his mouth tightened. "Their magic is strong, and their presence is a plague."

"You are angry," I said, voice quiet. I could not help the hint of fear that rattled my spine.

"Not at you," he said quickly. "Oh my dear, not at you. My kingdom has long been at war with the forest, for you see, my sister was taken by the fae, and in her place, they left such an awful child. A changeling so cruel she has been imprisoned within her room until the true princess can be found."

"How terrible," I said. "I am so sorry."

The prince offered a small smile.

"Stop apologizing for things you did not do."

I started to open my mouth, but the only thing on the tip of my tongue was an apology, so I decided to change the subject.

"What will happen once we arrive at the castle?"

"You will be taken to your rooms, where your ladies-in-waiting will bathe and dress you, and then I shall present you to my father and mother, and we will feast with the court to celebrate our engagement," he said. "Tomorrow, we shall marry."

The shock of his words hit my chest, making me sit straighter.

"You said we could wait to wed until I was ready."

"My darling, it is hardly appropriate for me to take you from your family and not marry you quickly, and I cannot leave you at the castle unwed while I am gone."

"Gone?" I repeated, another wave of surprise striking deep in the pit of my stomach.

"I take no pleasure in leaving you so soon after the wedding, of course," he said. "If I could delay it, I would, but you must understand, when I stumbled upon you in the forest yesterday, I was in search of my brother."

"You have a brother too?"

"I have two," he said. "But one went in search of a tree with golden apples somewhere within the Enchanted Forest and has not returned."

I sat quietly for a few moments, my emotions warring. I did not know what to think of the information the prince had just chosen to impart to me. I did not know how to feel about marrying him so soon and then being left alone. What if his mother and father were not so kind?

"Why did your brother go in search of a golden apple?"

"He wished to marry his beloved," he said. "But her father, the king of Holle, has demanded a golden apple in exchange for her hand. Of course, my brave brother was more than willing."

"If your brother has not returned, will you?" I asked.

He tilted his chin down and leaned forward, lowering his voice as he spoke. "I will, so long as I know you are waiting for me."

His words made my chest ache, and I swallowed hard as a strange tension filled the space between us. I wanted to look away to regain my composure, but I couldn't.

"Samara." He said my name, warm and breathless, then his eyes fell to my lips, and I was spellbound as I waited for him to kiss me, but then the carriage came to a hard stop, and I was thrown forward into his arms.

Outside the carriage, there came a thud, a scream, and then a shout.

"Run, Your Highness!"

I felt an overwhelming burst of fear. It was sudden and hot and made my heart race. I pushed away from the prince, meeting his gaze. He did not appear to be afraid but angry, his mouth tense. Suddenly, I remembered the fox's warning from last night— Tomorrow, your carriage will be set upon by thieves. You must not move or make a sound, or they will kill you. Wait, and you will be rescued .

The memory was hazy, as if it had been a dream, but here it was happening.

I started to speak, to tell the prince what the fox had said, but before I could, the carriage door flew open, and the prince spoke. "Take what you want, but do not harm—"

His words were cut short, and I found myself splattered with something wet. I blinked, temporarily blinded by it, and wiped my eyes, only to see red stain my fingers.

Blood .

I looked up to see that the prince was dead, an arrow embedded in his eye socket. He fell back against the seat limply.

My mouth opened in silent horror as panic flooded my body.

I wanted to scream as fear clawed at my chest, but I could only think of the fox's words, so I stayed silent and still, even as the thief pulled me from the carriage by my ankles to the ground, where I hit hard, head ricocheting off the earth.

I bit down on my tongue as pain exploded behind my eyes, and still I did not move, even as the thief straddled me. I expected him to do something terrible, but he only frowned as he stared down at me. He was a grisly-looking man, large with dark, stringy hair and a wild, unkempt beard.

"Oi! What is it, Peter?" a voice shouted.

"Oi, Arthur!" said Peter. "This girl, she is as still and silent as a statue!"

"Oi!" said another voice. "Perhaps she is dead."

Peter stared down at me. "I don't know, Puck. Her eyes are open."

"People die with their eyes open!" he argued.

Peter put his ear to my chest. I was repulsed by his sour smell and where we touched. Everything inside me was desperate to shove him off, yet I remained still, as if the fox's words were magic and froze my limbs.

After a few seconds, Peter straightened. "No, her heart is beating!"

"Maybe she is mute!" Arthur called.

"Are you mute?" Peter asked.

I did not move, not even to shake my head.

"She isn't answering!" Peter said over his shoulder.

"Perhaps she cannot hear you," said Puck.

Peter looked down at me and then yelled. "Can you hear me?"

I just stared at him.

"Oi, you idiot!" Arthur said. This time when he spoke, he sounded closer. "If she cannot hear, she will not understand you!"

"How do you know?" asked Peter. "She might read lips."

After a few seconds, the man I presumed was Arthur came into view. He was equally as repulsive, but his hair was shorter, and he had a mustache that was so long, it curled into his mouth. Then another joined. This must be Puck, the third thief. His hair was red and stood on end, and while he was clean-shaven, I suspected it was because he could not grow a beard.

"Where did she come from?" asked Puck.

"I pulled her from the carriage," said Peter.

"She was with the prince?" asked Arthur, as if he did not believe it could be true.

"Oi, I just said that," said Peter.

"She does not look like royalty," said Arthur, scanning my clothes.

"Perhaps she is his whore," said Puck.

"She doesn't seem afraid," observed Peter.

"That has nothing to do with being a whore," said Puck.

"No, but I don't like it," said Peter.

"Nor do I," said Arthur.

Then they all shivered violently.

"Did you feel that?" asked Arthur.

"I did," said Puck. "What was it?"

"I believe it was…a…shiver," said Peter.

"A shiver?" Arthur question.

"Surely not!" said Puck.

"We would never fear such a frail thing—and a woman at that!" said Peter. "It is impossible!"

"But just to make sure," said Arthur.

"We should kill her," they all said together, and then they looked down at me.

In the seconds that followed, there was a strange sound I couldn't place. I thought maybe it was one of the thieves unsheathing their weapon, but then I noticed blood soaking the collar of Peter's shirt, and his head slowly slid off his neck, bouncing as it hit the ground. His body followed, revealing a towering figure with hair as dark as midnight. His brows were lowered over shadowed eyes, his cheeks high but hollowed with anger. He was dressed in fine clothing, finer than the prince of Rook, but I could focus only on the long sword he wielded, dripping with the blood of the thief.

He was fae, and he was beautiful.

For a few seconds, terror rooted me to the spot, but when his gaze shifted to mine, his violent eyes a stunning shade of lilac, I found my footing and scrambled to my feet. As I turned and ran, the two thieves bolted past me, screaming.

Arthur went down at the edge of the forest, a dagger in his back. The other made it into the thick of the wood, and I followed.

I ran so hard, it felt like my bones were splintering. The only thing I could hear was the rustling of flora as the remaining thief and I barreled through the forest to escape the warrior fae.

Beyond the blur of trees, I could make out the thief's retreating form as he stumbled over the ground. His mistake was looking back, though I suspected there was no escaping the fae.

"No! Please!" His voice rang with fear. "No!"

A bloodcurdling scream followed his final words, and then there was silence, save for the sound of my own breathing. I kept running, vaulting over a large branch. I halted and lifted it from the decaying leaves, holding it like a club in my hands as I hid behind an ancient tree, its shallow roots making it hard to stay upright.

It wasn't long before I heard footsteps. I held my breath and waited until they drew near before I stepped out from behind the tree and swung the branch with all my might. It flew through the air and landed a few feet away, not even grazing the head of the fox from last night, who sat patiently before me with his tail curled around his feet.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, relieved to see him and not the fae.

"Your aim was off," said a voice from behind me.

A strangled cry escaped my mouth as I turned and came face-to-face with the fae. I took a step back and fell. Spotting another branch, I tried to reach for it, but it crumbled in my hands, so instead, I squeezed a handful of the decayed limb and threw it at the creature.

I didn't wait to see if I hit him. I got to my feet and ran, but I didn't make it very far before his arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me against his hard body. His hand clamped down on my mouth, silencing the shriek that bubbled from my throat.

"Is that any way to treat your rescuer?" he asked. His breath was warm, and his lips brushed the shell of my ear.

I shivered and closed my eyes, readying myself for the sting of his killing blow, but it didn't come.

"I am a little disappointed you aren't fighting," he said.

I opened my eyes and then jerked away, snatching a limb from the ground. It was a poor weapon in the face of his blade, but it was something. I turned to face him. He looked at the stick and smirked before he met my gaze.

"You had better be careful, Lore," said the fox. "She is a wild one."

"I have no intention of killing you," the fae said.

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. "Then why did you chase me?"

"I didn't," he said. "I chased your attackers."

"You put your hand over my mouth!"

"You were going to scream."

"Because I thought you were going to kill me!"

"You should not assume," he said.

"You killed three other men!" I snapped.

"They were men and thieves," he said. "Are you a man or a thief?"

"Do I look like a man?"

The fae's eyes dipped to my breasts, and he smirked. I swiped at him with my stick. It sounded like a whip as it cut the air toward him, though he caught it easily with one gloved hand and yanked it from my hands.

I recoiled and covered my head with my hands, preparing for his blow.

But nothing came.

Slowly, I straightened, letting my arms fall to my sides. I kept my gaze lowered, unable to face the fae. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"What did I tell you, Lore?" said the fox. "This one will break your heart."

I wasn't sure what the fox meant by that, but for some reason, it made me feel worse.

"Look at me, wild one," said the fae.

For some reason, that name only made my face burn hotter. The fae—Lore, according to the fox—took a step toward me, which finally drew my attention to his face. Again, I was struck by his beauty and the strange color of his eyes. I thought that perhaps he was an elf of some kind of status, given the point of his ears and his dress.

"I will never hurt you," he said.

His choice of words were interesting. It implied something beyond this present moment.

"People with kinder eyes have hurt me before," I said.

His gaze remained steady, but his mouth tensed.

"I cannot lie," he answered.

I'd heard that before but never truly believed it, and I didn't now. I considered saying as much, but just as I opened my mouth, I was interrupted by the sound of my name echoing in the Enchanted Forest.

"Samara!"

I whirled in the direction of Michal's voice, but I could not yet see him through the thick brush of the forest.

Panic rose inside me as I looked for a place to hide.

"Do you want to be found?" Lore asked.

My breath seized in my throat as he once again spoke against my ear. He moved so soundlessly, I had not heard him approach. Despite my heart pounding in my chest at the thought of being discovered by my brothers, I hesitated to answer—to trust him. While he had said he had no intention of killing me, there were always worse things.

A shuddering breath escaped my mouth, and I shook my head once.

Suddenly, roots shot from the ground, twisting around us.

Magic, I realized as I craned my neck and turned, watching them close over my head to form the trunk of a tree. My feet slipped on the uneven ground, and I fell against the fae. He caught me, and I tried unsuccessfully to straighten, my hands pressed flat against his chest, but I only managed to step on the fox's tail, and he emitted a horrifying, almost human yelp.

"Sorry," I breathed quietly, still trying to find my footing, but then Lore's hand came around my waist, and he pulled me against him.

I looked up at him, frustrated.

"This is easier," he said.

I glared, though it was hard to keep his gaze, not because his eyes were strange but because he was so beautiful.

This is how mortals die , I thought. This is how I die.

He did not seem to have any issue staring at me, his eyes illuminated by a blade of light streaming in from a gap in the twisted trunk.

"Couldn't you have made a larger tree?" I asked.

"Are you going to complain about everything I do?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he put a gloved finger to my lips and hushed me. I let my hands shift down his chest to his sides and held him tighter. This felt safer, though I did not know why.

I watched Lore's face as he turned into the blade of light and eyed my brother's approach.

"Samara!" Michal's voice erupted again, close this time. He was right outside the tree.

I jumped, and Lore held me tighter. I wasn't sure if he intended to comfort me or keep me close so he could silence me if needed.

"Shut up, you imbecile!" Jackal hissed.

At the sound of Jackal's voice, I began to tremble. I curled my fingers into Lore's tunic, trying to force myself into stillness, but it didn't work. Lore continued to hold me, and I made no move to push him away. I thought about how often I'd wanted someone to hold me like this and the irony that it was happening while I was trapped in the trunk of a tree, hiding from my brothers.

The sound of Michal's voice startled me again. I turned my head into a beam of light and realized there was an opening for me to see through too.

I leaned close to peer out. At first, I could only see Michal. Then a pebble flew through the air and hit the back of his head.

"Ouch!" Michal seethed and whirled to face Hans, who snickered as he also walked into view. The two were dressed for a hunt, in their darker clothes and leathers, which I found odd since Prince Henry had left them rich men.

"What?" he snapped. "She can't have gone far."

"Even if she didn't, what makes you think she would come running to us?" asked Hans.

"She will if she is smart," said Michal.

"She didn't leave on her own, idiot!" said Hans.

"How can you tell?"

"You don't really think she killed the prince and the thieves?"

"Have you seen her gut a pig?" Michal asked.

Lore gave a quiet laugh that almost sounded like a scoff. I glanced at him. He seemed amused. Maybe he found it hard to imagine I had gutted anything.

"Well, the prince wasn't gutted, and neither were the thieves, were they?" asked Hans. "They were sliced clear in half!"

Hearing that sent a shiver down my spine. Hesitantly, I glanced up at him again. I don't think his gaze ever left me. He didn't speak, but he lifted his hand to my face, brushing my cheek with his thumb. I held my breath. His touch was gentle, as if he were telling me in a different way that he would never hurt me.

I hated that I didn't believe him and turned away from his touch. He dropped his arm from around me, letting me lean closer to the opening.

Outside, my brothers still argued.

"If she didn't kill them, who did?" asked Michal.

"Perhaps she has had a secret lover who helped her escape," said Hans.

"But we have only her footprints and those of a fox," said Michal.

A heavy silence followed, and then suddenly, Michal and Hans looked up, as if they might find me in the trees. Only Jackal remained still and quiet, eyes narrowed and searching, and as I peered between the crack in the tree, his eyes met mine.

Fear ricocheted through me, and I inhaled an audible breath, which I immediately regretted. I covered my mouth with my hands and retreated, tripping over the fox, who let out a sharp yowl. Lore caught my arm before I could fall and dragged me against him. This time, his hold felt like an iron band around my back.

"Did you hear that?" Michal asked.

"It sounded like it was coming from inside that tree," said Hans.

I could see my brothers begin to circle the trunk, and Lore unsheathed a small blade. I wasn't sure what he planned to do with it, as it did not seem like a weapon that could take down any of my brothers but then again, he was fae and they were not. Still, I gripped his forearm, and he looked at me, his eyes searching mine.

"Please," I mouthed, though I did not know why I stopped him. Did I want to protect my brothers, or was I too afraid of being discovered? Truly, I did not know, but I also could not think. The fear was pounding through my veins.

Lore continued to stare, studying my face with a frown.

Then there was a sharp blow to the trunk of the tree. It caused the wood to vibrate around us and the air to fill with dust.

Hans was using his axe to chop the tree.

"Who cares about a fucking fox?" Jackal hissed suddenly. "Who cares how the prince was killed or even the thieves? What matters is that the prince of Rook is dead, and his kingdom will likely offer a great reward to the one who brings his murderer to justice."

"But we do not know who murdered the prince," said Michal.

"No, but our dear, dear sister does, and once we find her, we will surely learn the truth, and we will either present her or her supposed lover to the king as the assailant. Either way, we will be rich."

My brothers were quiet as they processed Jackal's words. Hans chuckled and then Michal. Their laughter rose, echoing all around me, making my ears ring, but it grew fainter and fainter as they retreated, returning, I guessed, to hide the bodies of the thieves.

"Well, aren't they pleasant," said the fox.

His words broke through my fearful haze, and I released Lore's forearm. My fingers ached from holding him so tight. I ignored the embarrassment I felt at having done so and peered out the hole in the tree, suspicious that my brothers were still near, waiting to pounce.

But then the tree disappeared, and I yelped as I fell to my hands and knees. I hurried to my feet and turned to face Lore as he sheathed the knife he'd drawn earlier.

He continued to look unhappy, and I wondered what I had done wrong.

"Your brothers are idiots," said Lore.

"They are heroes," I said. "Without them, my village would starve."

His eyes flitted down my body. I didn't like the way he looked at me, like he was frustrated with what he saw.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"What happens to you without them?"

My mouth parted, my answer poised on the tip of my tongue.

Then I am free , I wanted to say, but that was just a dream, and dreams were only achieved by wishing, and no one wished in this land—not without consequences.

"I suppose I would die," I said.

Lore stared at me, his eyes like violet fire.

"Within seven days?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, confused by his question.

"If you are without them for seven days, will you die?"

"Well, no," I said. "Of course not."

"And you said her brothers were idiots," said the fox.

I looked at him, narrowing my gaze.

"What's going on? First you come to me at the moor and warn me that my carriage will be attacked, and now you are here with the fae who saved me. Was this planned?"

I felt silly saying it aloud. Why would either of them make a plan to save me?

Lore and the fox exchanged a glance before returning their attention to me.

"Your brothers hired the thieves to attack your carriage. I believe their intentions were to kill the thieves and pose as the hero to the king of Rook but…Prince Lore got to you first."

My gaze snapped to the fae's.

"Prince?"

Lore raised a dark brow. "Yes?"

"You did not say you were a prince," I said.

I had tried to hit him and thrown wood in his face.

"We hardly had time for formal introductions," he replied. "Besides, I am not the first prince to make your acquaintance."

"Do not let him fool you, wild one," said the fox. "He was quite miffed over that."

Miffed?

Over me?

I had to be dreaming.

I closed my eyes and opened them again, but the fox and the fae still remained, watching.

"Perhaps I am dead," I said.

"You are very much alive," said Lore. "At least you have promised to be for the next seven days, which will bode well for me, since I am in need of a mortal, and you are now in my debt."

I swallowed hard, looking at him.

"Excuse me?"

"I saved your life," he said, as if that explained everything.

I stared at him and then asked, "Did I ask you to?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You say I owe you a debt because you saved my life, but I did not ask you to save my life."

Lore tilted his head as if he did not understand me. "Are you saying you did not want to be saved?"

"I don't know," I said. I could not remember what I had been thinking before he killed Peter. "The point is that I did not ask, and how can there be a debt if I did not ask?"

The fox made a strange, high-pitched sound, a laugh, I realized. "Oh, she is a clever thing," he said. "If I did not know better, I'd think she were fae!"

Lore scowled and took a step toward me. I curled my fingers into fists.

"It does not matter that you didn't ask," he said. "You are obligated to repay me however I choose, and I have chosen."

I did not understand.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Why not you?" he asked.

"I am…worthless," I said.

I had no skills, save keeping house, and still, as my brothers often reminded me, I managed to fail at that every day.

Lore studied me for a few quiet seconds, and in that time, I felt like the only thing in existence. He lifted his hand but did not touch me, only let his fingers mimic brushing my skin. I could feel their heat, even gloved. It was enough.

"You do not get to determine your worth to me," he said and dropped his hand.

I stared at him, considering my options, though there truly was only one—to follow him and fulfill my debt. It was not as if I could go home.

"My brothers will come for me," I said. "They have hunted and survived this forest many times."

"So have I," he replied. "I will keep you safe."

A thrill went through me, warm and pleasurable. I longed to contain it, because I did not want to feel it. Fae would say anything to get their way, and I doubted this one was any different. He had, after all, saved me for a purpose that only served him. I would have to remember that if I was going to survive this.

"And after seven days?" I asked. "What happens to me if I have not managed to repay you?"

"Nothing," he said. "You will be free."

I almost laughed at his words but stopped myself. He did not understand—he did not know. I might be free of him, but I would never be free of my brothers.

Lore frowned and then asked, "Do you desire something else?"

I held his gaze as I answered in a hushed tone. "I have never desired anything else."

"Truly?" he asked, his voice just as quiet, and I refused to think about the fae I had loved and all I had dreamed for us.

"Truly," I said, glad that at least I could lie.