Chapter 2

2

TREYTON

“ P lease. No more.” The Winter fae hangs his head, shaggy white hair, lined here and there with purple streaks, falling forward to obscure his face from view.

Even still, I have his features memorized.

Light-blue eyes, currently swollen shut and discolored with bruises.

Pink lips, split and bloody.

High cheekbones, though both of them are broken and almost black now, a stark contrast to his pale skin.

A cleft on his chin. Though now that I’m looking at it closely, that could actually be a dislocated bone.

My favorite torturer—a tall, broad fae by the name of Diyno—glances over his shoulder at me, one of his purple brows arched. The question in his green eyes is clear.

What do you want me to do? Stop or keep going?

Indecision battles within me, but only for a tick. The part of me that once strived to be good, to do better… That part of me vaporized the moment Kassandra was kidnapped. I no longer have a choice in the matter. All rationality has been consumed by the beast within me—the creature that bathes in blood and only feels a smidgen of relief when he’s in his mate’s presence.

I need to find her.

I give Diyno a nod, encouraging him to continue. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been torturing this particular fae for days now. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have a lick of information to give us. It doesn’t matter that we keep running into dead end after dead end.

Nothing matters anymore.

I’m…numb.

Numb and hollow and empty. The piece of me that had begun to soften, that had begun to crave the light instead of wallowing in the darkness, has diminished, dispersing in a cloud of smoke. All that remains is an icy tundra reminiscent of the Winter Court.

Kassandra is gone.

Kidnapped by this fae’s esteemed leader.

Calan.

Gaiadamn Calan.

I won’t rest until I find her and bring her home.

And tear Calan limb from limb.

Fear for my mate, compounded by my growing guilt that I allowed this to happen in the first place, threatens to bowl me over.

I never should’ve allowed her to remain with that fuckwad Blaze. He can’t protect her, not like I can. It’s my duty as her mate to protect and care for her. If I’d done my job, then she would be here right now with me.

“Again,” I instruct Diyno. “Make him talk.”

The Winter fae’s screams sound almost musical as I exit the cell and walk quickly through the dungeons—a labyrinth of iron-enforced cells and smaller rooms that serve as torture chambers, all of the walls made of crumbling stone. The smell of piss, vomit, and blood permeates the air, and if I were a lesser fae, I would’ve gagged.

But I’m not a lesser fae. I’m a Gaiadamn prince, and if I can’t use my position and prestige to find my mate, then what am I good for?

I’ve been sending scouts daily to try and locate Kassandra. A few of them are supposed to arrive home today.

Hopefully with information. A location.

My heart batters against my chest so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if my ribs broke from the force of it.

I need to see Kassandra.

Feel her.

Taste her.

It’s almost a visceral need living inside of me, growing and festering and threatening to explode out of me like a damn parasite.

Gaia, Kassandra…

Visualizing her face is a bittersweet torment. Just picturing her calms me and soothes the savage beast beneath my skin. But at the same time, whenever I hear her name, I’m bombarded with a pain like no other.

Agony.

It’s agony.

To know that she’s somewhere out there, probably scared and alone, needing me…

“Your Highness.” Cayetana bows her head respectfully from where she stands at the end of the hallway, waiting for me.

My head guard is a tall woman with light-blonde hair, currently plaited back from her face, and surprisingly fair skin. Right now, she wears an armored chest plate with the Spring Court insignia on her right breast and has a sword hanging from her hip. Despite her obvious beauty and almost delicate features, she’s a formidable opponent, one I know not to underestimate.

It’s why she was promoted as my head guard in the first place.

“Have they returned?” There’s no point wasting time with small talk and pleasantries. I tried to be kind, tried to prove I was a compassionate prince, and look where that got me? My mate’s gone, my kingdom is at war, and my world is falling to shambles around me.

Maybe I need to be more like Blaze and embrace the darkness percolating inside of me.

Maybe I need to accept the fact that I’ll never be a good fae, a good prince, a good leader.

Maybe I need to acknowledge that I’m a monster through and through.

“Two scouts returned just a little bit ago.” Cayetana’s lips purse, and she flicks her gaze over my shoulder towards the staircase leading down to the dungeons.

Somewhere in the distance, the Winter fae cries out, the noise trickling through the halls.

“Say what you need to say, Cayetana,” I growl out, shouldering past her.

I have to give my guard credit—she doesn’t sugarcoat her words or submit to me like all the rest of the simpering fools in my palace. I can’t help but respect her for that, even as her insubordination makes rage fester inside of me.

“You’re making a terrible mistake,” she says simply.

“Whatever do you mean?” I move briskly down the hall, but Cayetana is easily able to keep pace with me.

“The fae in your dungeons… He’s from the Winter Court, correct? One of Prince Calan’s dignitaries?”

Just hearing Calan’s name causes hot, blinding anger to rush through me, scorching my veins. I have to physically remind myself to breathe, to inhale and then exhale.

When I see him, I’m going to wrap my hands around his neck and twist. I’m not normally a violent person. Truly. After the incident years ago, I vowed to only do good in the world. I have a list of sins a mile long I need to atone for.

But that was before I met my mate.

Before she was taken from me. Before I even got a chance to claim her.

Now, the only person I need forgiveness from is Kassandra herself. Allowing her to be taken while under my own roof is the gravest sin of all.

Would she accept flowers?

Severed hands?

Decapitated heads?

I can’t imagine she would. My mate is…sweet. Soft. Innocent. She has seen far too much violence in her short life.

No matter.

That’s why Gaia chose me as her fated match. I have no qualms about bloodying my hands so she can keep hers clean.

Now, I just need to get her back from Calan. If he hurt a hair on her head, I’ll destroy him.

Cayetana continues, oblivious to the blistering rage building inside of me. It grows and grows and grows like a tsunami made of fire. “Torturing him is an act of war, Treyton. You know that. And even if Calan chooses not to retaliate, we can’t afford to alienate some of our only allies.”

I whirl towards her, not bothering to adopt my normally cheerful mask. No, I want her to see the beast I’ve become, the beast Kassandra’s absence has created.

There’s a darkness inside of me, fathomless and infinite, and though it terrifies me, embracing it may be the only way to rescue Kassandra and bring her home.

Who knows what Calan is doing to her? Just thinking about the possibilities makes me sick to my stomach.

“Prince Calan declared war on the Spring Court the second he stole Kassandra from me,” I hiss. “We will destroy his entire kingdom if we have to.”

Cayetana swallows heavily. “Your Highness?—”

“Do not second-guess my decision again. You’re a good soldier, but that’s all you are—a soldier. Expendable. Replaceable.” A part of me knows I don’t truly mean those cruel, heartless words. Cayetana has become someone I’d almost consider a friend over the years.

But common sense has left me. Exploded outwards in a geyser of hate, regret, and guilt.

Hate towards Calan.

Regret that I didn’t protect Kassandra when she needed me most.

Guilt that I’m here at my castle, twiddling my damn thumbs, while she’s enduring who the fuck knows what.

Cayetana’s eyes frost over in a way I’ve never seen before. I can see the retort on her lips, one she desperately wishes to let loose like an arrow, but she reconsiders at the last moment.

All she says, tone curt and brisk, is, “Of course, Your Highness. My apologies.”

That’s it. No comments about how I’m an idiotic bastard. No threats. No insults.

She moves nimbly towards the throne room, but I don’t immediately follow her. My mind is in turmoil.

For years, I’ve lived my life as half a fae, going through the motions while darkness plagued each and every step I took. But then I met Kassandra, and suddenly, my world was full of light. The shadows dispersed, and I could see a future that wasn’t weighed down by demons and monsters and past sins.

Now that she’s gone, the darkness has returned with a startling vengeance, but it’s worse than ever before. I’m a blind fae who was granted sight for only a limited time then had it brutally wrenched away from me.

What would Kassandra do if she could see me now?

Be disappointed in your behavior, I think scathingly.

I can see her in my mind’s eye—heated glare, pursed lips, and an expression of haughty disdain warping her beautiful features.

How will I ever get her to fall in love with me when I act less than fae the second she’s gone?

I don’t deserve her.

I’ll never deserve her.

But maybe I can take steps to change that.

Or maybe…

Maybe I need to accept the fact that I’m not a good fae or a good prince. Maybe I need her to fall in love with the true me—darkness and all.

My beast has already claimed Kassandra.

The question is…will she want him as well?