Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

Cassia

The first thing we do is get as far from the Death House as we possibly can. I ride in Zane's arms. He'd been too worried that I'd fall off to let me on the back of the horse, and the damn protective fae was probably right. I'm exhausted. Throughout the ride, I drift in and out of sleep. And despite the fact that I no doubt smell, he holds me close, like I'm something precious and delicate.

It isn't until the sun is setting that the horses slow and we move off the road to set up camp. Forrest is there in an instant, reaching up to take me off the horse, and Zane holds me a little closer before reluctantly letting me go. Only, Forrest doesn't set me down. He carries me in his arms like a child. Like I weigh nothing at all. He stares down at me in the strangest way.

"What?" I ask, feeling nervous.

"Nothing. You're just beautiful." And the big fae sounds so sincere that I don't know what to say.

"That's what I'm told, that I never look better than when I'm dirty and beaten. "

He frowns and the scar on his face dances. "That's not what I meant."

"I know," I tell him, and some of the tension eases from his face. "I just want to feel clean again."

Cobar pops up near us. "There's a river right near camp."

"A river?" It sounds cold and miserable, but I'd give anything not to be covered in dirt. "That could work. Anyone have something I can wear?"

"I do," Sulien says. Kneeling next to his pack, he pulls out a few articles of clothes and hands them to me. I take them, and then he turns to the others. "We have to set up camp."

No one moves.

"You can put me down," I say. "Seriously, I'm okay."

Forrest's arms tighten around me. "Just show me where you want to go."

I sigh. The big lug isn't going to listen. "The river."

He starts walking, and I'm kind of amazed by how strong he is. Yes, the fae are stronger and faster than us, but he carries me without the least bit of effort. I bet he'd be a hell of a lot of fun in the sack. I blush, thinking of the many different positions we could try if he can carry me this easily.

His gaze meets mine. "What?"

My blush deepens. "What?"

"You're staring at me," he says, a little frustration in his voice.

"I'm not." I shake my head, even though I was.

After a second, he says, "It's okay. The scar is a lot."

I feel every muscle in my body tighten. His scar? That's not what this is about.

Then he's setting me down, and I feel like something precious is slipping through my fingertips. His hands linger on me while I gain my footing, and then he steps back, and he looks like a lost boy. Like the boy in my dream.

"Do you want me to turn around?" he asks.

Of course. He's not going to just watch me bathe!

We're close enough to camp that I can hear the others, but far enough through the trees that I can't see them. "You can head back to camp, I'll be fine."

Now it's his turn to shake his head. "No."

"Prince Forrest–"

"You don't have to add the prince, you're my mate," he says stubbornly.

Well, I guess there's no winning with this one. "Yes, just turn around."

He does so. Back stiff.

"Don't turn around for any reason," I tell him.

"Unless you're in trouble. You have my word." He sounds so damn formal that it breaks my heart.

I start to undress. "You know… I don't mind your scar."

He says nothing, but his back bows as if I'd stuck him, and I hate that I've hurt the man. He comes across as so crass and unfeeling sometimes that I forget that I can hurt him. I forget that he thinks I'm his mate, so my approval means a lot to him.

I decide to do something that doesn't come easily to me. I decide to be honest. "I actually kind of like your scar. Most of the fae are so pretty and perfect. It gets old, you know? But you, you stand out wherever you go, in a good way." I hesitate. "I have a scar, too. Well, several, but a pretty decent one on my thigh from a fae who kicked me with a steel-toed boot. It's probably not super pretty, but I bet you wouldn't mind it."

He's quiet for a minute, then his voice comes, filled with humor. "I've shown you mine…"

I laugh. "Maybe someday you'll see it. If you play your cards right."

He groans. "I guess I have to get better with cards real quick."

I can't help but grin.

There's silence for a half a second before he says, "You'll have to share who that boot belonged to, so I can bring you their leg." And he sounds sincere.

The notion is oddly sweet, which probably makes me insane. "Now, what would I do with a leg?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Anything you want. Maybe kick it a few times for good measure?" Since when does Prince Forrest have a sense of humor? I like it. Maybe I even like him .

Dropping my clothes in a pile on the ground, a strange idea leaps into my head and won't leave. "You promised not to turn around unless I'm hurt, no matter what. Is that a real promise?"

He sounds offended. "You know as well as I do that a fae's word is law. We can't break our word."

That's what I thought. I walk up to him, crunching through the leaves. Hesitating behind him, I reach out and run a hand along his back. He shivers, but doesn't turn around.

I feel naughty, standing behind him naked. Knowing that no matter how much I tempt him, he can't do a thing about it. And, strangely, it also makes me feel a little powerful. Ever since I lost my job and was thrown out of the castle, I've felt like things were happening to me. It's nice to have a little control.

Not that I'm going to take it too far. Right? I shouldn't.

I continue running my hand up and down his back. "Thanks for saving me."

"It was my duty," he hesitates, "but you can thank me any way you like."

Moving closer, I press myself against him from behind, and his whole body shakes with his rushed breaths. I slide my hand around him, letting it lie on his very flat, very muscular belly.

"I'll have to think of a good way to thank you," I say, and my voice comes out low and husky.

The pictures in my mind are dirty. Pictures of me sliding my hand into his pants and pumping him faster and faster until I make him come right here. I'd enjoy it. He'd enjoy it. What would be the harm?

The man's handsome enough, and tempting enough, that I give the thought way too much of my attention… letting my hand slide just a little lower on his belly. But then I remember that this is about more than a hot man that I feel a strange connection to. If I do this, it'll be damn hard to keep telling him no to becoming his wife, and I don't know what I want right now.

As tough as he seems, I can't hurt him more.

Pulling away, I hear the rush of air that leaves his lips, then I go to the river, missing his warmth. The big man can be an ass, he can treat me like a piece of meat, but I like him today. That doesn't mean the man I see today is the real man.

"I'm here, anytime you need me," he says, and his voice is deep, filled with need.

My nipples harden, and I sink into the water, telling myself it's because of the cold. Still, I stay in the water longer than I need to, scrubbing the blood and dirt from my body and my hair, scrubbing until I almost feel like I can scrub away the last couple weeks of my life, but the result of my choices stands right in front of me.

When I'm done, I stand and dry the best I can before slipping into the clothes Sulien gave me. The white shirt is so long that it could be a dress, and the front dips low with ties that I try to close the best I can, but peeks of my skin show through, no matter how hard I try. I put on his pants, but there's no way. I think I could use something to tie the side, but I don't have anything right now, so I take the pants off and then stuff my feet into my boots, leaving behind my smelly clothes.

"Okay." I move around Forrest until I'm standing in front of him. "I'm ready to go."

His eyes widen as his gaze runs over me head-to-toe.

"What's wrong?" I ask, planting my hands on my hips.

He shakes his head. "N-nothing."

Then he swoops me back up, and I have to hold back a shriek of surprise. He carries me easily back to camp where I hear the crackle of the fire, the low voices of the men, and the scent of something cooking. When we come crunching through the foliage, all eyes turn to us, and the conversation dies.

Prince Forrest takes me near the fire, where I wiggle until he puts me down.

Jaws are dropped in all directions.

"What?" I ask, frowning at them. No one speaks for a painfully long minute, so I throw my hands up. "What? You guys think you look like all that and a bag of dicks? "

Prince Cobar is the first to laugh, shaking his head, and then the others join in, even Frost.

"A bag of dicks?" Prince Cobar asks, grinning. Then his gaze moves to my leg and falls away. "That mark around your ankle looks bad. Come here, I can heal it the best I can."

Relief rushes through me. "Healing would be great."

He's sitting on a log by the fire, but there's nowhere for me to sit. Powerful fae can do a little healing through touch, but they mostly need potions to do anything more than that, so I have a feeling how this will go and just decide to roll with it. Deciding not to have an awkward moment where he asks me to climb in his lap, I just do it, slipping onto him before he can ask.

Prince Cobar is tense for a long minute before I chance a glance up at him. He looks… shocked to say the least, but then he relaxes, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer. This time, a little sound of surprise does leave my lips.

His big blue eyes widen. "Did I hurt you? Gods, I didn't mean to!"

I shake my head. "I'm good, big boy. Just hit me with your healing juice!" Uh, wrong word choice.

Chancing a glance at the others, I know I've screwed up. Zane looks surprised and envious, Forrest looks jealous, and Sulien is staring hard, like he could burn a hole through us just with his gaze.

I glance back at Cobar. "Uh, so?"

He swallows. Hard. "I can hit you with… all the healing juice you need."

My cheeks burn. "Give it to me." Uh, shit.

He lowers his voice. "Cassia… do you want to be healed or do you want to be–? "

"Healed!" I practically shout before he can finish.

He groans but nods. "I need your leg."

"Maybe I should heal her," Zane offers, his tone measured, but the envy hasn't left his gaze.

"I'm good," Cobar says, his gaze fixed on my leg.

I shift in his lap, and he makes a gasping sound, then I stretch out my leg at a weird angle to make it easier for him to do his thing. I use my other foot to help kick off my boots, so he can see all the damage and do what he can, but it's hard not to look at the mark and frown. It's an ugly thing.

But when I look up at Cobar, he's staring, and not at all in a "I'm so concerned and want to fix that ugly wound." Nope, he's staring in a "I'm going to spin you around and fuck you hard between those long legs of yours" kind of way.

My face is going to light on fire.

"Cobar, for the love of god, fix her or I will," Forrest demands.

That seems to snap Cobar out of whatever dirty place he'd gone. He reaches for my leg, hand trembling.

"Will this hurt?" I ask.

All eyes are on me.

Zane's voice is gentle when he asks. "Have you never been healed by a fae before?"

I laugh. "Kicked by a few. Hit by a few. Pushed down some stairs once by a drunk one. But no, never healed."

"Who?" Prince Sulien's voice comes out low and threatening.

I stare at him in surprise. "Who?"

"Who hurt you?" he says, and each word is spoken between clenched teeth .

I laugh uneasily. "Prince Sulien, it doesn't matter, it's done with."

" Who ?" he asks again, and the look in his eyes scares even me.

"Sulien, she's shaking," Prince Cobar says softly.

Prince Sulien's anger fades and he sits a little taller. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

I stare. "Fae hurt people like me. It's what you do."

"Fuck," he mutters. He rises and walks away.

It's weird. I feel like I've handled everything poorly, but I also feel like I'm not wrong. Him drinking some potion doesn't suddenly make me less deserving of the fae's treatment. Not that I ever deserved it, at least in my eyes.

I turn to the others. "I wasn't trying to offend him; I was just telling him the truth."

"Sulien wasn't offended," Prince Zane tells me slowly. "He's heartbroken that you were hurt in his court and that he didn't protect you."

It's hard not to laugh. "I can't break Prince Sulien's heart. I might be his mate, or whatever, but he doesn't give two fucks about me. He didn't care about me when we were kids, and he sure as fuck doesn't care about me now."

"Are you sure about that?" Prince Zane asks, and something about those pale eyes makes me feel like I'm wrong.

"You didn't grow up with him in the Summer Court," I say.

"True," Prince Zane says with a shrug. "But I've also seen his misery since you've been gone, and I know him well enough to know when he's hurting."

Or Prince Sulien is a good actor. If his friends knew about the potion, knew about all of this being a lie, I'm sure they'd see him the way I do. As a man capable of anything.

And yet, I have the unexpected urge to go after him.

"Your leg?" Cobar offers, and I realize I've dropped it, so I offer him the wound again.

His hands feel warm and safe as they wrap around the space right below the mark from the ball and chain. He closes his eyes, and in an instant I feel an unexpected warm tingling. It moves up my leg and through my body, coming to rest at the most unexpected place. I close my eyes and grit my teeth as heat builds at my center. I'm counting numbers, swearing at this man in my head, and trying to ignore the throbbing between my thighs, when at last, the feeling stops.

My eyes fly open. "What the fuck?"

Prince Cobar frowns. "What?"

"You know what!" I accuse.

He looks at me in confusion. "What?"

"Your magic! The tingling! You know I'm talking about, you pervy animal!"

Silence. My words are met with silence.

I think if I blush any more today, I'm going to burn a hole in my face. "Don't pretend you don't know."

"Cassia." Prince Cobar says my name like he can't catch his breath. "Did that turn you on?"

That's exactly the moment when I notice two things. One, Prince Cobar, is erect. Very erect and pushing right between my thighs. So erect that it feels like I'm sitting on a pole. And two, that my leg isn't hurting nearly as bad.

I want to die. I want to melt into the floor and die.

"Can I heal you?" Prince Forrest pipes up. "Maybe it's a mate thing."

I cover my face with my hands. "I'm healed enough for today."

"You sure?" Prince Zane asks, and he sounds far too excited at the thought.

"No one heals me anymore. Ever. If I get hurt, you let me die. Understood?" I say, my voice a couple pitches too high.

"Or…" Cobar begins before clearing his throat. "Well, it's our job to take care of your every need. We'd be more than happy to take care of this, too." As if to emphasize the point, he shifts back and forth, rubbing himself against me.

I spring from his lap. "No more erections! No more healing me!"

Prince Zane clears his throat, his eyes on my body. "May I suggest if you don't want any more erections that you do something about that see-through shirt?"

I glance down. If I thought I was going to die before, that's nothing compared to how I feel now. Given the white shirt and my wet body, it's like I'm standing naked in front of them. Quite literally, I can see every curve of my breasts, my nipples, and even the hair between my thighs.

Shrieking, I cover myself with my hands, and Prince Zane springs to action, draping a blanket over me. I pull it extra tightly around my body, even while Prince Zane lingers. When my eyes roam over him, I see the icy prince sporting an erection that the gods would be proud of.

I point at all of them. "You just keep those," I point at Prince Zane's erection, "away from me."

Prince Zane reaches down and tries to shift his cock into a direction that doesn't point straight out, but he fails miserably. That anaconda refuses to be tamed. And when I find myself licking my lips and our gazes meet again, I swear Zane's about to mount me. Ride me like a damn horse. And if there wasn't a handful of men who would join in too, I might seriously consider it.

Instead, I take Prince Zane's spot on the log and say, "You and Prince Cobar are sharing."

They obey without a word, and for a second everyone is staring at me in silence.

"You know," Prince Forrest begins, "you're the one who was talking about your tingling pussy. We're men, for gods' sake, men who have a deep urge to fuck our mate."

"Forrest," Prince Zane groans.

"What?" the man says, bristling. "You got all hard at the mention of her tingling pussy too, and then to see the damn thing on display… What are we, eunuchs? We have needs."

I pull the blanket tighter around me. "Don't worry, we'll be back at the Summer Court soon, and you'll have all the fae you can fuck."

Cobar sighs. "Haven't we made our feelings concerning this topic clear? None of us wants anyone but you."

"Because I'm your mate," I say.

He nods. "Because you're our mate."

And what if I wasn't? I stare at the fire, some part of me dying a little inside.