Chapter 12

TWELVE

Forrest

I swipe the moisture from my face as I wake up. I haven't had that dream in years. I haven't talked about my dad in years either. Damn it.

Waking up in tears is the last fucking thing I want to do around the other fae princes, so, of course, that's exactly what happened. Why, though? I curl my hands into fists, willing myself to shake away the dream.

Then I remember. I must have dreamed about my father because of my conversation with the princes last night. But unlike every other time that I've dreamed about the bear attack, Cassia was there. Her compassion made it a little easier to get through. Even now, I swear I can still feel her touching me. Still smell her scent.

I barely know the woman. She doesn't even like me, and yet, she was my savior in the dream. Maybe because some part of me thinks she will be. When we marry, I'll have a wife, best friends with me always, and children. We won't even have to split our time with her because, as decided by the elders, we'll share a home together in a home in the center of where all the courts meet. Which is… perfect. More than perfect.

With her, I have the potential for a happy life.

Yet, this whole thing is crazy. It was a dream and only a dream. An image of my mate and nothing else. I shake my head, trying to rid myself of all that past pain.

I sit up slowly from my blankets and see the other princes are already awake, drinking coffee, ready for another day of riding. I hate that I was the last to wake up. They already think so little of me that the last thing I need is for them to think I'm lazy.

"Are you all right over there?" Cobar asks, and our gazes meet.

Why would he ask me that? Did I talk in my sleep? Am I acting differently? All I did was wake up. I haven't done more than sit up.

The temptation to lie leaps to my mind, but I push it away. We're linked by Cassia. We're going to be together forever. If I can't form a bond with them, they'll all form a bond with her without me. I have to do better, no matter how uncomfortable sharing might be for me.

"Yeah, I just had a weird dream," I reply without making eye contact with anyone, not wanting them to see just how vulnerable my admission makes me feel.

"Understandable," Zane says, without any edge or jeering behind it.

Sulien walks over and claps me on the back and hands me a mug of coffee. It's a friendly gesture that makes me freeze up. They're being kinder to me than usual. Why? I can't seem to think of a reason. I haven't recently bested them in combat, hunted difficult prey, or made them feel inferior.

I don't understand these men. Could it be that I said something heroic and brave in my sleep? Unlikely. And if they were going to be impressed by bravery and strength, they'd already hold me in high regard.

Cobar stands and moves to the fire where he appears to be cooking us breakfast, some kind of stew or porridge. "What do you think she's doing right now?" he asks as he fills bowls and passes them around.

"I just hope she's not hurting," I say quietly, drinking my coffee as I accept my bowl. My body tense at just the idea of anyone hurting her.

I clench my jaw until it hurts. The pain drawing me away from the images of her pale and frightened. Of her body bruised and beaten.

"She's tough," Sulien says, pride in his voice. "She'll be okay."

He likes her more than he's willing to admit, but this isn't just about how much we like her. We need her home safe. Sulien can guess and think all he wants. I want action.

I eat quickly, as do the rest of the princes, then we pack. There's no more chatter. No more lighthearted conversation. Until we have our mate back, that's all we can focus on.

After packing, I ready and mount my horse first and wait. Frustrated. We all know where we're going, as much as we might be dreading it. Why stretch things out any more than we have to?

Zane brings his horse beside my own, and we wait in silence while Sulien and Cobar get the last of our camp together. Minutes feel like hours, but they finally join us, and we ride quickly and quietly away, back on the road once more even though the sun has barely risen.

We take reluctant breaks throughout the day, not wanting to lose time, but also not wanting to overwork our horses. My mind travels with us, thinking about everything from my father to later that fateful day when my mother saw my bloody gash. She hadn't looked the least bit surprised, just disgusted. Her mouth curled and her nostrils flared out. She'd told me I needed to wear a mask for the rest of my life before turning back to her mirror and adjusting her hair.

Cassia isn't that type of woman. I might not know her well, but I do know that about her. If she was, she would have turned away from me in disgust the moment she saw me. Yes, she ran from me, but not in disgust. Her kiss proved that.

I saw her family. She's fiercely protective of them, which means when she loves, she loves true. I pause and wonder if she'd be the same way with her children. The instant the thought fills my mind, I smile. Of course she would. But I'd need to win her heart before any of that could happen.

Those thoughts and others tangle together until it's not just my body that's exhausted, but my mind. And it's obvious why. All of my thoughts seem to be working so hard to ensure that I don't think about where she is now . Maybe hurt. But definitely taken.

The second that thought occurs, it's the only thing I can think about. Which is worse. So much worse than thinking about my past with my parents or my future with Cassia.

We finally reach the edge of a dark forest. It's thick, and there's barely a path visible into it. Moss makes the trees look like grassland growing upward. The canopy above the trees is woven together so tightly that only wisps of sunlight seem to be able to penetrate the trees. It's like we're walking into darkness, entering a forest of night.

It's unsettling. But then, we're in the land of darkness.

We move a little slower, the shadows making it even more important that we be aware of our surroundings. Especially here. The further we delve into this dark forest, the less the sun shines through, and as I study the gaps between the trees, I see that clouds are rolling over the sky. Gray and heavy with the promise of a storm.

Darkness reigns in all areas here.

We turn off the main road and onto one that is paved with black stones. Our horses walk with trepidation, sensing our location, but we force them forward any time they try to turn us around. Soon their hooves create a steady rhythm that echoes through the trees, breaking the silence surrounding us.

The unnatural silence echoes through a forest with no life. No birds. No insects. Not even the whisper of the wind lives here.

"Well, we're not in the Summer Court anymore," Cobar says, obviously trying to cut through the tension, since this is technically still in the Summer Court, just at the border.

A rogue breeze rustles the ancient, looming trees. It's ice cold and sends a chill up my spine. A breeze like that… it's not natural, just like the rest of this place.

"They say the Winter Court is cold, but it's nothing like this," Zane says, and his words are a little breathless.

The crunch under the horses' hooves echoes like the crunching of bones. I think about the battlefield with the iron demons. It's rare that the demons break through our barriers, but it does happen, and we and our army are always there to hold them back. On the battlefield the bodies of our soldiers, and those of the iron demons, end up as little more than charred bones, and we walk amongst them hearing nothing but the crunch of bones and the wailing of the injured.

Still, somehow, this is worse.

I shiver, thinking about the comparison between now and my time on the battlefield. I think of all the things that most fae and humans alike would never know about. Because we were there, as we'll always be there, to use our bodies and our powers to protect our realm.

I don't want to be here. But Sulien's idea was the best one we had to get our mate back, even if it's a fool's quest. Even if our people will lose their minds when they learn what we've done.

"Let's remember, just like all the other houses, the House of Death has good and bad fae. Not everyone here is bad," Sulien says, but his words fall flat.

As princes, we were taught from a young age to value all houses, including the House of Death, but the House of Death's fae have done little among the courts to improve their image. There's nothing they enjoy more than war, blood, and death. They play with magic, dark and dangerous, with no regard, and they avoid the rest of us outside of the need to find their mates among the houses and courts.

Although no one wishes to find their mate among them .

"What's the plan exactly?" Cobar asks.

"We're going in there with hugs and kisses," I say, smirking. What the hell does he think the plan is? Get what we need and get the hell out.

Sulien glares in my direction. "We're going to go in treating them like any other house, and that includes treating them with respect, knowing that they aren't inherently bad."

Zane casts Sulien a sideways glance. "We also can't go in there without understanding that a lot of the fae here are bad, though, Sulien. Respect is one thing, foolishness is another."

I don't know if he's angry or if he's a little uncertain about what we're doing, but his words hang in the air. None of us has been here before, and it is a place full of rumors, cloaked in mystery. We can't walk in there and bare our hearts to them, trusting them to understand and care. We need to treat them not quite as enemies, but with a hell of a lot of distrust.

"I agree with Zane and Forrest," Cobar says, casting Sulien an apologetic look. "Respect I can do, but we all need to be careful. We're already coming here with our throats exposed. That's enough for me."

Cobar and I nod in agreement. We can be as open-minded as can be, but these fae have a reputation for a reason, and things can go very wrong very quickly. We can't let our guard down regardless of how much Sulien might want to play the diplomat.

"Just be aware that we need them. We need them to help us and hope the price they ask in exchange isn't more than we can bear," Sulien tells us.

He means well, but none of us need this speech because it doesn't matter if they're good or bad, so long as they help us. And while Sulien has often been the unspoken leader amongst us, when it comes to our mate, we're all equals. We'll all burn this house and any other down to the ground for her.

I rub my chest, the ache in it so deep and painful that it makes it hard to breathe. I need Cassia back. I don't care how I have to go about doing it.

None of us replies to Sulien, but we let him feel like our fearless leader as his horse strides ahead of us. I try not to think about how irritating it is to stroke the Summer Fae's ego, because I love my mate more than I hate the man. I can put my feelings aside for her.

The black stone road leads us to the town where the House of Death is located. I immediately frown as we enter. Not only is this town shrouded in darkness, but it's bleak when you enter it. A fog of despair and desperation hangs so heavily in the air that it's suffocating.

The silence bears down on us in an unsettling way. No people walk the streets and no windows or doors are open. It's as if the people live in the same overwhelming fear we can't seem to shake off.

We jump when the caw of a raven cuts through the silence. My gaze goes to the trees, all of which are covered with ravens. They stare at all of us as if waiting to peck out our hearts, as if, as the old legends say, they have a thirst for blood.

"Fucking creepy," Cobar mutters.

Sulien gives him a look, but Zane says, "People live here, right?"

"Maybe they did at some time, but the House of Death called them home, so their village sits empty now," Cobar says beneath his breath.

Sulien shakes his head. "It's just a town."

"You don't feel it?" I challenge him.

He doesn't back down. "I feel the ache to find Cassia, that' s what I feel."

Prick.

We keep going, anger humming in my blood just below my unease. The houses scattered here and there look desolate, weather-worn, with broken windows and peeling paint. But as I study them, there's more. Claw marks are cut into the wood on the doors and walls, deep and unsettling.

"What did that ?" Cobar asks.

"Something big," Zane says. "Maybe a bear."

Every muscle in my body stiffens. "No, if a bear wanted in these doors, it'd get in these doors. I'm pretty sure those claws belong to something… unnatural."

"Unnatural? Fucking Death Fae," Cobar mutters.

Sulien glares at him and his words come out in a hiss of breath. "Hold your tongue."

Cobar lifts a brow. "I'm sure if I don't, they'll hold it for me."

I snicker, even though it's not that funny. Suddenly, the idea of the four of us visiting the most powerful, and most twisted, of the fae feels stupid. We wanted to get here quicker than a large party could travel. And we knew if we told anyone our plans, hell would rain down on us. No one would let us go, despite us being the royals. The elders might even get involved, claiming insanity at the loss of our mate.

But we made a calculated risk coming here, which is feeling riskier with each step we take. I hope it pays off. Fuck, it better pay off.

A bell rings from a tower in the distance. Finally, there's movement in the town. Doors open and people emerge. Only, the people we pass look more like ghosts than people. They're gaunt and hollow with sunken eyes and flesh that seems to hang off their thin frames. A few cough weakly in their ratty clothes that hang off of their frail bodies. And as strange a sight as the four of us must make, no one looks in our direction.

How can they live like this?

I notice that random gravesites are scattered throughout the town, reminding us of where we are and the house we're headed to. There's no way to enter this place with confidence. It's disconcerting. Hopelessness sits in the atmosphere like a thick smoke, choking out any light and joy.

The dark castle on the hill provides a background to the desolation of the town. Something roils inside of me knowing those who reside in the castle live well while everyone out here suffers. Yes, many humans aren't treated well in the courts, but this? This is something else. Something more than poverty and hunger.

I steel my nerves as we approach the castle. It seems to me like everyone in that castle is bad, and I'm mentally preparing myself for it. The structure looms above us, black as the night's sky, with high, pointy towers and dark windows. I know that many fae live within those walls, and yet, the place feels empty of life.

It's unsettling how much I don't want to go into that castle.

"I kind of wish we could meet the lady at the town pub," Cobar jokes.

It wouldn't be a bad idea, if it wasn't a terrible insult to the lady of the house. "Remind me never to come back here again."

"Agreed," we all say as one.

The castle doors open for us as we approach, and a woman stands in the doorway. I rub my eyes, thinking my vision is off, but the woman is a corpse. Her exposed jawbone jars me, and I fail not to gawk while she stands in front of us, quietly.

Of course the fucking House of Death has dead servants…

She gestures with her hand for us to enter, then she leads us into the castle when we dismount our horses. There's a dark elegance to this structure. It's built with heavy, dark stones in a color I've rarely seen in nature outside of a stormy sky. Candles light the halls, and shadows of unseen figures flit about the walls. Spirits? I don't know.

More servants, like the one guiding us, leave rooms with pillows, blankets, and food. They're doing what my laughing servants do, only with flesh hanging from bone and their steps unnatural and slow. The only sounds around are our own footsteps and the clinking of the servants' bones.

Our guide stops us in front of a giant set of double doors. They open at her touch, and we enter a throne room where Lady Grave sits upon her dais. She's a beautiful woman with long, black hair and dark eyes. She's tall, well-built in a way that's almost masculine, and she wears a brown gown with gold jewelry that decorates her low neckline.

Her legs are spread in an almost possessive position, like she's trying to dominate more of the copper throne, and her hands grip the intricately carved armrests. The throne reaches high behind her, seemingly made of copper, sharp pieces of glass, and bones. The copper sheen and the reflection from the glass are the brightest things in the room save the flickering light from the torches and the candles.

I can just barely make out more of the dead bodies that serve this court lining the walls of the room, but these wear armor instead of the clothes of servants. They also move ever-so-slightly as if being pulled and jerked around by an unseen string. We walk past them and our boots sound loud against the stone floor as we approach the lady on her throne.

It's strange how much I don't want to go near her, even though I also know she isn't the most frightening of the fae from this house. She is powerful, but not the most powerful, and that's an unsettling thought as her eyes lock onto mine.

"Oh, the four fated princes have lost their betrothed," she drags out, her voice deeper than I expected as she jeers and laughs at us.

At us. Her four princes. These House of the Dead Fae truly care about nothing and no one.

But Sulien doesn't appear fazed. "That is correct, Lady Grave." He inclines his head. It's not quite a bow, but it is a show of respect.

"You've come to ask for help, making this trek to a place that disturbs you for the one woman all four of you will share." She smirks, her full lips curling unpleasantly.

I keep my face neutral even though I want to wipe that smirk right off of her face. Maybe with the use of my army, we'll level this house to the ground. But I keep my thoughts to myself because she may be the only one who can help us, and I don't want to piss her off.

"We have, as you say, Lady Grave, come seeking your help in finding our mate." Sulien is so smooth, I'm almost impressed. If I were the one talking, I'd already have ordered her to help us, if she knew what was good for her.

Lady Grave laughs. "You think I have time in my busy day to help the four of you find your runaway bride? I'm sorry, but I sure as hell have better things to do." Then she turns and speaks to one of her servants, ignoring us completely.

We stare at her, incredulous.

My fists clench. Cobar notices, and he gently taps my elbow. I open my hands and stretch my fingers. Not everyone here is bad, but this Lady Grave sure as hell is.

Lady Grave turns back to us, and giggles, surprised. "Oh, you're still here?"

"Yes, we have come to ask for help in finding Cassia, even though we are aware of how busy you are and how valuable your time is," Sulien says, but I'm pleased to see anger dancing in his eyes.

Her smirk has returned. "You wretched fae princes. I know you've tried to get everyone else to help you. Yet, you should know that no one but the Keeper of Death can find your little mate."

Sulien's skin blanches at the mention of the Keeper of Death, and my blood runs cold. The Keeper of Death is someone with far too many rumors circulating around her, most of which involve her doing magic that even the fae would never touch. She might be one of us, but she doesn't seem to feel inclined to follow our rules involving ethics.

"The Keeper of Death?" Sulien seems to be choosing his words with care. "She is among the fae in your house, is she not? Could you have her help us in our quest?"

Her smirk turns into a sneer. "She is the most powerful fae amongst all the houses and courts. She is not a fae I ever tell what to do. If she wishes to help you, she may. In reality, I'm sure she has the solution to your little missing bride problem. You may go to her chambers and seek her out, but prepare yourselves: she requires a very steep price. I hope you can pay it."

I swallow hard. I think we'd all prepared ourselves to deal with Lady Grave. We were prepared for her to be creepy. We even knew she would likely ask us to humiliate ourselves to gain her help.

But The Keeper of Death? What the hell will she want?

"Do you wish to speak to her?" Lady Grave asks, and there's a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

"We do," Sulien says without a moment's hesitation.

Lady Grave gestures for a servant, and the doors behind us open. My stomach flips, but I turn to go. There will be an even steeper price to pay, of that I have no doubt, but I pray it'll all be worth it when Cassia is finally in our arms again.