Chapter 29

29

BLAZE

A part of me wonders if the pampered Spring Prince finally had enough of getting his hands dirty and decided to run off. Wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve known Treyton his entire life, and if there’s one word I’d use to describe him, it’s “coward.”

He runs from his problems. I fight them.

I haven’t decided which method is the healthiest.

I clear a pathway through the Forest, swinging my ax back and forth to tear down any tree branches in our path. I half wonder if the Forest will retaliate against us for my actions, but so far, it’s been quiet.

Too quiet.

The absence of sound sends a prickle of unease down my spine, though I don’t allow it to show on my face. To the outside observer, I’m calm and collected. A fae on a mission.

Nobody can see past my apathetic mask to the turbulent emotions hidden within.

“Have you ever heard the joke about the elf, the giant, and the fae?” Aleksander rambles incessantly from behind me.

I want to snap at him to shut the hell up, but then Kassandra will giggle, and my anger will evaporate.

I suppose I’ll leave the annoying elf alive—as long as he continues to put a smile on my little beast’s face.

It’s been three orbits since we’ve become separated from Treyton. Every tick that passes feels like a death toll.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

What will we eventually find when we reach our destination? Unbidden, my brain conjures images of Treyton lying dead on the ground, his guts rearranged and his pretty face mottled and bruised. The imagery doesn’t bring me the satisfaction I expected.

Maybe because, in my imagination, Kassandra is kneeling beside the fae prince and sobbing.

A tide of guilt threatens to batter down my composure.

How can I wish death upon someone my mate cares about? I don’t understand why she feels a fondness for the Spring Prince, but I can’t deny that her face lights up when he’s around her.

And if Aleksander’s right…

If he’s truly her mate…

Fuck.

Does this mean I’ll need to protect the arrogant asshole?

I don’t know how I feel about the prospect of Kassandra having more than one mate. I’m a jealous, possessive bastard on the best of days. And on the worst? I’ll stab anyone who so much as looks at Kassandra the wrong way.

How can the universe ask me to share her love and affection?

Or are the fates cruel enough to ask her to choose, breaking her heart, and all of ours, in the process?

Can I allow that to happen?

A tiny hand touches my wrist, the touch feather-light, and I bring my gaze down to Kassandra’s. One of her blonde brows arches, a silent inquiry in her gaze.

When she’s certain she has my attention—as if I’m ever not focusing solely on her—she releases me and signs, “Coin for your thoughts?”

I smirk. “I think my thoughts are worth more than a measly coin. Don’t you agree? Most fae would kill to know what’s going through the Fall Prince’s head.”

“Pain, death, and destruction?” Aleksander quips from behind me.

I don’t bother dignifying that with a response.

Mainly because he wouldn’t be too off base.

I focus on Kassandra and have the irresistible urge to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

So I do.

Goose bumps erupt on her arms, and red fills her cheeks. She lowers her head with a shy smile.

“I’m just thinking about you,” I confess, making sure to keep my voice low.

I have no doubt Aleksander can hear every word I’m saying, but I’d like to pretend he’s not here.

“Me?” Kassandra’s head snaps up, and confusion splays across her face.

“How different my life has become since you came into it.”

I was a different male before I met her. Bitter. Angry. Cold. I’m still all those things, of course, but a piece of my heart has thawed since coming into contact with my little beast. I’m no longer consumed by anger and hatred. By violence and vengeance. By death and destruction.

“Don’t you mean since you forced me into it?” Kassandra’s posture holds a note of teasing, her perfect pink lips stretched in a miniscule grin, but her eyes are hard. Serious.

Inexplicable guilt fills me. The emotion is almost foreign to me. I certainly can’t remember the last time I felt it.

Looking back on my first meeting with Kassandra and that wretched Madam Herra, I wish I could do everything over again. I forced my mate to suffer, and that’s unforgivable. Hell, even if she wasn’t my mate, I never should’ve allowed her to go through what she did.

I truly am a monster.

I stop walking and grip Kassandra’s chin, forcing her gaze up to mine. I want her to see my sincerity. For the first time in my long life, I’m allowing my walls to crumble and vulnerability to seep in through the cracks.

“I have a lot to atone for where it comes to you, but I can start with this. It’s not enough—nothing I’ll do will ever be enough—but I want you to know how sorry I am.” I huff out a bark of dry, humorless laughter. “I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for. I’ve done horrible things to you. Forced you to heal that fae. Kidnapped you.” Though I’m not overly sorry for that. I’d do it again if it meant having Kassandra in my life. “I’m sorry.”

The surprise on Kassandra’s face morphs into sadness. Tears well in her eyes, causing them to ripple like the tranquil waves of a small lake. She blinks them away.

For a long moment, she doesn’t respond to my apology. I’m not expecting her to forgive me, but the longer she stands there, staring at me, the more anxious I become. My heartbeat speeds up, tripping hastily over itself, and I tighten my grip around my ax.

Then she lifts her hands and signs, “I forgive you.”

I forgive you.

I forgive you.

Never have three words been more beautiful before.

I feel weightless, as if I’m standing on an icy lake that’s beginning to crackle and shatter beneath my feet. Any tick now, I’ll fall into its glacial depths and be swept away by the current.

Kassandra forgives me.

Before I can speak, she holds her hands up and continues signing. “I forgive you because I can tell you’re sincere. But Blaze…” She bites down on her lower lip, her hands hovering in the air. She seems to be struggling to find her next words. “My forgiveness isn’t unconditional, and it’s not absolute. I won’t allow you to hurt me again.”

“I won’t,” I promise, even as a tiny voice in the back of my head reminds me of all the secrets I’m keeping from her.

Our mating bond.

My immortality.

I vow, right then and there, that as soon as we find the Spring Prince, I’ll tell her everything. No more secrets. No more lies. If I want this relationship to work—which I do—then I’ll need to be open with her.

Her eyes smile enigmatically up at me, and I feel myself fall even harder for her.

“We’ll need to have a talk,” I warn her seriously. “But first, let’s find your Spring Prince.”

“He’s alive,” Kassandra signs with absolute confidence, already turning on her heel to resume following Runt.

“Kassandra, you need to prepare yourself?—”

“He’s alive,” she repeats, each hand movement sharp and concise. “I don’t know how I know that to be the case, but it is.”

Her brows furrow, and her lips compress. Confusion swarms in her eyes, but she shrugs it away and continues walking.

I exchange a glance with Aleksander, who’s trailing along behind us. The elf appears contemplative. One of his long, bony fingers comes up to tap at his chin. I can see his mind whirling, but he doesn’t voice his thoughts as he shoulders me aside and moves to stand beside Kassandra.

I glower at the cocky elf but take up the rear.

“Now…where were we?” Aleksander asks. “Hmmm. I was about to tell you a joke, wasn’t I? Well, it’s your unlucky day because I don’t remember it. So let’s talk about something more important. Would you rather have your mouth on your hands or your eyes on your feet?”

I roll my eyes.

How can someone so intimidating be so…crass? Annoying? Irritating?

Kassandra wiggles both of her hands in the air.

“Really?” Incredulity bleeds into Aleksander’s voice. “But every time you touch something, you’ll be forced to taste it!”

“Not if she keeps her mouth shut. Which you should take note of,” I interject.

Aleksander considers and then nods decisively. “You’re absolutely right. And can you imagine the amount of stimulation you’ll give your partner during sex?—”

He cuts off abruptly when Runt leads us into a clearing.

Kassandra releases a sharp gasp, and I curse and hold my ax at the ready.

Everywhere I look are…webs. White, gossamer webs, strewn from tree branches like streamers at a ball.

Aleksander places a hand on Kass’s stomach, forcing her to halt, and then unsheathes his sword with practiced efficiency. He begins to inch in front of Kassandra while I move even closer to her from behind.

“What is this?” Kassandra signs, glancing at me over her shoulder.

I translate for the elf.

“It appears to be a… What do you fae call them? It appears to be megart webs,” Aleksander muses, sounding completely unperturbed by the disturbing sight.

“Have you ever seen a megart this big?” I ask in disbelief.

“We refer to them as spiders,” Aleksander drawls casually. He then adds, his voice subdued, “No. I’ve never seen one this big.”

Runt scurries farther ahead of us, and soon the thick webs obscure him from view. The webs press in on me from all sides, and I wince when one of them brushes my arm. It’s sticky to the touch, almost sickeningly so.

“Fucking disgusting,” I gripe, scowling.

“You can say that again.” Aleksander has paused a short distance ahead and stares at something on the ground.

Kassandra’s breath hitches, and she quickly looks away, her thin body trembling.

I quicken my pace and stare down at the pile of bones.

“This doesn’t seem good,” I say, alert for any threats.

There are so many bones, I would guess that at least two dozen fae have died here.

But what killed them?

And does this monster have Treyton in its clutches?

I’m suddenly desperate to get Kassandra the fuck out of here, Spring Prince be damned.

I open my mouth to suggest exactly that when something captures my attention. Kassandra and Aleksander remain by the bones, but I walk stealthily towards the tree covered in webs.

At first, I think my eyes are deceiving me, but the closer I venture, the more positive I am that this isn’t just a hallucination or a trick of the light.

There appears to be a body tied to the tree. At least, there’s a distinct, fae-sized bulge beneath all of the webbing.

I reattach my ax to my back and then grab a dagger out of its sheath. Quickly, I begin to cut at the white strings, ripping them aside to unveil the fae beneath it.

He’s not breathing, but fortunately, he’s not Treyton. The unfamiliar fae has golden hair and tan skin, traits commonly found in the Summer Court. His sunken face makes me think he’s been held here for weeks, if not months.

“What the fuck did this to you?” I murmur in disgust.

Stepping away, I pivot on my heel, determined to get back to my mate, when a figure steps in front of my path. I immediately swing my dagger at the creature, but she captures my wrist with a cackle. Her blunt nails dig into my skin hard enough to make me bleed.

The megart-female hybrid grins sharply, her multiple eyes blinking up at me. “Immortal prince, I see you made it to Mitchia’s home.”

Her voice is a sibilant hiss, each syllable succinct and precise.

Her grip is unnaturally strong—stronger than any fae I’ve ever come into contact with.

Stronger than even me.

I bare my teeth and swing a blade at her with my free hand, but she captures that one as well.

“Naughty princes get punished.” She tsks her tongue in what sounds like mock disapproval.

Then she brings my wrist to her lips and slams her teeth into my flesh. Pain radiates from her bite, and my stomach swirls madly. Darkness paints my vision.

And then I lose myself to oblivion.