Page 5

Chapter 4

Meera

Snow crunched beneath my leather dress boots as I approached the palace. The gates were lifted, and the courtyard had been opened for guests to enter. Footmen opened doors to grand carriages. Lords and Ladies exited gracefully, not looking at anyone around them. For a brief moment, I felt so out of place, I wondered if Sadie had been right. Disguising myself as one of the castle servants might have been better, but I also knew it was my nerves talking. I was exactly who I needed to be for the evening. Sexy. Seductive. High class.

Why?

My target was the fucking prince, and he would never give a servant—or a commoner—a second look.

The king’s annual masquerade was really the only easy chance I had to get his nephew’s attention. Events like this weren’t frequent in this realm. Famine and economic struggles tended to be a downer for parties. Go figure.

The entirety of Faerie had been invited this year. The only stipulation was that you had to be at least part fae to enter. The big question on everyone’s mind was why the sudden change. Rumor had it that the fae king was working toward a more equal system. He couldn’t abolish the millennia old classism that ran deep in our society, but he aimed to minimize it.

It wasn’t a bad idea, but a ball couldn’t exactly fix the years of inequality. While the vast majority of the populace lived in poverty, the high fae court didn’t have to suffer the same, and it showed. While they never had an overabundance of food, their families never went without. The injustice had caused riots in the past. Deaths. The usual. All the things that happened when people were pissed off in the human world happened in the fae realm too.

The reality was, even if those handfuls of high fae families did share in the hardship—it wouldn’t change anything. Faerie was cursed. The kingdom couldn’t support and feed all its occupants.

I couldn’t blame those with more power for doing what little they could to protect their loved ones. That didn’t stop me from understanding the contempt everyone else felt for not being as privileged.

It was a shitty situation, no two ways about it.

The guards at the gates at least acknowledged everyone that entered somewhat equally. They were dressed in royal blue tunics and pants, weapons holsters fitted over their clothes. Nothing lavish, which I assumed the king had intended. I smiled demurely as the one on my left appraised me. Half a second later his gaze moved on to the next guest.

So far, so good.

A thin gold line no one else could see led me toward my mark. I couldn’t see him, but I sensed his closeness. It wasn’t an exact science, my tracking magic. The closer I got to my target, the more restless I felt. It was an itch I couldn’t scratch. A trail of goosebumps rose along my skin. My magic drove me onward as if stuck in a compulsion I couldn’t fight.

The feeling was familiar, but always unsettling. I was rarely around this many people when on a job. Better than a sewer, I reminded myself. In an attempt to blend in, I paused next to one of the glass lilies in the garden leading to the castle. The translucent petals were so fragile. Ice clung to them, turning the glass slightly opaque around the edges. I’d always been enamored by this particular flower. So much so that my mom always got them for my birthday, one for each year that passed.

But like all beautiful things, they weren’t meant to last.

Glass lilies were bound to the magic of Faerie. Plucking them from the ground started the countdown and taking them to earth only hastened it. Still, I looked forward to those couple of days a year where they sat on my bedside table.

Someone bumped into me, pulling my attention back to my mission. They muttered an apology in my direction that didn’t sound all that sincere. Sadie would have tripped them and smiled. I had to grin and bear it.

Pricks.

Following the rest of the crowd, I headed toward the entrance. I wasn’t sure what the castle was made of, but it resembled white marble with streaks of dark blue and flecks of gold that shimmered and pulsed. I’d never seen anything like it on earth.

I was only a few steps past the door when a servant requested my cloak. I twisted my lips trying to hide my annoyance but handed it over regardless. It would be out of place for me to wear one inside, which would draw attention. That was the last thing I needed. Still, it was a pity. My fur-lined cloak was pretty, but once I had the prince, I needed to get the hell out of here. There would be no checking out with the guards or servants while dragging him behind me.

Hundreds of fae gathered in cliques inside the great hall, talking and drinking. Cold, stone walls rose to ceilings that must have been forty feet or more in height. Crystal chandeliers hung above me, glittering as though they were made of ice. Maybe they were. Anything was possible with magic.

People gravitated toward large double doors at the end of the hall. Music filtered out, indicating that it was the ballroom. Unease tightened my chest. I focused on the sensation, forcing my muscles to relax. I had this. Sure, it wasn’t an object I was taking. Yes, I had some moral qualms about kidnapping a person. I didn’t have much choice in the end. I either completed my job or I was enslaved to Lou. Permanently.

Considering fae were long-lived, death would be kinder.

Besides, I had a plan to make everything right again. I just needed to carry out the contract and then I’d be free of the consequences.

My hands smoothed over the silky onyx and ruby ombre dress, tightly fitted to my form. A black band hugged my waist, emphasizing my curves the flare of my hips.

I reached into my clutch for the last piece of my outfit. Pushing the magical handcuffs aside, I pulled out my mask. Red velvet with faux rubies, and black feathers protruding from the corner. It tied in the back with a satin ribbon, just above the chignon I’d styled low on my neck. With the price of everything else I was wearing, the mask wasn’t nearly as exquisite, but I was relying on the cut of my dress to keep the fuckboy prince’s attention .

With that in place, I stepped into the main ballroom.

Step one: enter the palace. Check.

Onto step two.

Find the prince.

Grabbing a flute of wine from a passing waiter’s tray, I took a small sip. Drinking on the job wasn’t usually advised, but in this case, liquid courage was needed.

I followed the gold string toward the food spread. It was modest, compared to the things I’d seen on earth, but an abundance for Faerie. I wondered if that was intentional, to feed the commoners that weren’t used to being full.

My heart hurt for them as I took in the thin forms of the surrounding guests. Fae were naturally slender due to a higher metabolism. What that meant in reality is that we not only starved but we also didn’t die quickly, prolonging the torture.

I had a good metabolism, but slender I was not. I didn’t care. I’d learned to love my curves long ago, and I leaned into the shape of my body. It suited me. As fighters in a realm where we didn’t starve, my recap family were built stockier and meatier. I didn’t know what I was, and maybe that played a part in my shape. We did well enough in the human realm, and many fae weren’t so lucky.

To simultaneously feel saddened yet thankful my parents had moved us away from this place was an experience that would overwhelm me if I let it, but I had to focus on the job at hand.

I couldn’t help them. I could barely help myself.

Thus the reason I was here to begin with.

The thread moved, veering off to the side of the ballroom.

I pivoted, listening to the excited chatter circling through the air. Speculation was the name of the game .

“Do you think he’s going to announce something important?” one man asked his group, adjusting his simple oak-carved mask. “Would explain why he invited the kingdom.”

“Oh, do you think he’s going to marry?” a woman in a poofy yellow ballgown stuttered with excitement. “I bet that’s what it is.”

“It’s about time,” another answered. “I wonder who the lucky lady is.”

“Who says it’s a lady?” I piped up with a cocked eyebrow.

Three heads snapped in my direction; their lips parted in surprise.

The woman closest swallowed a rather large gulp of wine then nodded. “That’s fair. It’s not like the women of the court have had any luck getting the attention of our king these past years. Perhaps someone else has finally caught his eye.”

“Could be anyone.” I shrugged, moving on from the trio and letting them carry on with their gossip. I probably shouldn’t have spoken, but the assumption irked me.

The thread continued to shift, making me weave through a throng of people. Left. Right. Back. Forward. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the prince was trying to evade me. The thought snuck in, a sheen of cold sweat breaking out over my skin.

What if he knew?

What if Lou set me up?

No . . . I shook my head. He wouldn’t do that. He never has before. What would he have to gain from my arrest and execution? Nothing. Lou looked out for number one, and I was the best bounty hunter he knew. That meant he got paid .

My eyes trailed over the crowd, paranoia still eating away at my logical brain.

A stranger stopped, grabbing my hand, making my breath catch. I watched, too stunned to react as a man my height kissed the back of my wrist. He released me and bowed deeply. “My dear, would you honor me in a?—”

I didn’t hear the rest. The moment he looked down, I vanished into the crowd. Claws worked their way up my throat.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. In. Out.

Come on . I scolded myself. Get your shit under control. If the prince knew you were here to kidnap him, they’d have arrested you at the gates.

My chin dipped as I nodded to myself.

Pep talk successful.

Another man in a black mask with a long beak stepped up to me. His costume reminded me of a plague doctor. I braced myself for another attempt at flattery. Before he could speak, I raised my glass, downing it and then giving him an awkward thumbs-up. “Great wine,” I said quickly. “I need another drink. Here, hold this.” I shoved the empty glass into his hands, leaving him stunned as I walked away in search of another waiter. It seemed like this was a two-glass job, after all.

I stopped a woman with a tray, grabbing another flute of wine. As I sipped, a strange feeling crawled up my spine, tickling the hair on my neck, just adding to the discomfort I’d been feeling since my arrival. This was different compared to how my magic made me feel during a hunt.

I froze. The world around me continued to dance and laugh—but someone was watching me.

I forced myself to move, gripping my glass tighter. My gaze swept the room slowly, searching for the source. The ballroom was simple yet luxurious. A large dance floor took up the center, lined with towering pillars supporting a second-floor balcony. The back wall featured stained-glass windows, a mural depicting Faerie’s history. Each new king carved out his own section of the story.

And in front of that sat a throne of . . . glass? That couldn’t be right. The substance twisted and turned at the base, transitioning to deadly spikes at the top. It wasn’t clear, but it wasn’t opaque either. Maybe it was a crystal of some sort.

My musings trailed off as I took in the imposing figure sitting front and center. The source of my unease.

King Vareck.

Regal and commanding, he sat at the edge of his chair, hands gripping the armrests tight enough to make his knuckles whiten. His full mouth was parted as he stared at me with an unreadable expression. Piercing icy blue eyes held mine prisoner, his long chestnut brown hair wild beneath his crown. Handsome was an understatement. High fae were often beautiful, but this was something else. Vareck was a god amongst men, which made it all the more terrifying that he noticed me. In a room full of hundreds of fae, his attention was not what I expected. Nor was it welcome. Yet, I couldn’t seem to make myself move.

The king’s gaze heated to a searing temperature. The intensity of it did things to my body I hadn’t prepared myself for. A flush crawled across my skin, rising to my neck. He took my breath away, something that had never once happened in real life—and that alarmed me.

Beside him stood a tall, beautiful woman with umber, brown skin and black braids pulled into a high ponytail. Her royal blue uniform fit her like a second skin, but the golden emblem she wore just about her breast marked her as more than a simple “guard.” She touched his shoulder with familiarity as she leaned in close, speaking to him. The king’s broad shoulders tensed before a noble walked up the steps, breaking our eye contact.

As though a spell had been broken, I sucked in air, my heart thundering in my chest. I slipped out the door behind me, desperate to get away from whatever had just taken place.

The sound of my boots echoed softly in the empty hall. I needed to get away. Abort the mission. I didn’t know what had just happened, but I wanted to get the hell out of Faerie.

This wasn’t paranoia anymore. The anxiety coursing through me wasn’t unwarranted.

I’d drawn the attention of a predator. A king.

Like any good prey, I should run.

Except I was bound by a magical contract. I owed Lou—or whoever he collaborated with—a prince. Specifically, the crown prince.

I had a bounty to collect, but it was about more than just the money. My very freedom was at stake, and this might be the only chance I had to just waltz into the castle without anyone batting an eye. With my power, I could certainly find Prince Damon anywhere, but getting to him was another thing entirely. While this wasn’t my only chance, it was the easiest one by far.

I let out a quiet, but frustrated groan.

Tucking myself into an alcove next to a statue of a fae with large wings, I focused in on my power. It was easy for me to use enough to conjure the thread between us. To go deeper, I had to concentrate. My eyes narrowed, their hazel color shifting and glowing a bright, vibrant green. My vision faded to black around the edges, painting the world in shadows.

Images flashed in my mind as I focused solely on finding him.

Damon’s voice was a low, deep rumble as he whispered to a woman about meeting him in another room. His smile was charming, quirked to the side. His hair was as dark as a forest at midnight, eyes almost as brilliantly blue as the king’s—I flinched at that detail, almost losing the trail.

Blowing out a shaky breath, I started to walk.

Moving carefully through one of the many doors and hallways, I treaded softly, almost unable to see the lights that danced and flickered from the chandeliers above. Everything was blurred and dark except for my direct path. Sounds were there but muffled.

All of my senses were dulled when I used this power, especially to this extent, but it was what made me so good at retrieving. While the thread was easy enough to follow for an extended length of time, the sight was harder. I saw the path like a map, knowing exactly where I would end up.

If he moved, the sight would follow.

Except it drained my senses.

All magic had limits and mine was no exception.

The more I used it, the longer I would be numb to the world after—which is why I rarely engaged it to begin with. The king’s gaze had forced my hand. Something deep within me said I was running out of time.

After a hazardous set of stairs, avoiding three groups of guards, and almost knocking into a statue, I spotted the prince. Letting go of the magic, my eyesight slowly returned to its normal state. Sounds were still warped. My sense of smell was shot. I couldn’t feel the chill of the realm, nor the heat of the blood pumping through my veins, but I was aware enough to remain upright.

I smoothed out my dress and adjusted my boobs, pushing them up for effect. My efforts were wasted when I stumbled over an uneven ridge on the floor. Or air. Honestly, I couldn’t feel it so either option was equally possible.

I twisted mid-air, my body falling in a way that I wouldn’t break anything. I hoped.

Upside? I landed right in front of the prince.

Point to me for getting his attention.

Downside? The undignified sound that came out of me was also unplanned and somewhat embarrassing. The very distinct rip of my dress as it tore from the floor to the top of my thigh didn’t help.

“Oh my,” a feminine voice tinkled with false sympathy. She looked down at me, blonde curls framing her face. A pale green and yellow dress swished next to my head.

The prince ignored her, squatting at my side to put us almost at eye level. Wow . The looks in this family were something else. He didn’t take my breath away like the king had, but he was gorgeous, and it was easy to see how a woman could get caught up in his charms.

I cleared my throat. “Apologies, My Prince. I wasn’t paying attention.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, and Damon gave me a charming smile and offered to help me. “No apologies needed. Are you okay?”

Nausea churned in my gut once more as I took his hand.

I nodded and Damon pulled me up with ease. I placed a hand over my racing heartbeat, drawing attention to the keyhole of my dress where my cleavage was exposed. It worked. His hungry eyes flickered down and back up to mine as I shifted closer, shortening the distance between us.

“Well, if she’s fine,” the woman said, attempting to wrap her arm through the princes as she tugged him in the opposite direction. “We’ll be on our way.”

Tinkerbell was going to be a problem.

“Oh,” I breathed, then wobbled on my feet, gripping the prince’s other arm for balance. I looked into his eyes as innocently as possible. “Perhaps not as well as I thought. Would you stay with me for a moment?”

“Charissa and I were?—”

“On our way to somewhere more private,” she finished smugly, not hiding the irritation she felt at my presence. “ Alone .”

“I was going to say headed to my room. It’s the next door down.” Damon glanced at her in mild surprise at the revealing nature of her statement. I imagined not a lot of noble women openly admitted they were on their way to bed a prince. Damon cleared his throat and returned his attention toward me. “You can recover there,” he said, reaching into his pocket and removing a silver key. “Let’s get you some water.”

My competition pouted her bottom lip obnoxiously, whining as she protested. “But Damon?—”

“That’s very kind of you,” I interrupted before she could sway him. She pinned me with a glare. “If that’s alright with you . . .?” If she refused now she’d look even more like a bitch, something she seemed to consider as she let out a huff.

“I don’t mind,” Charissa said flatly.

Damon either didn’t notice her hostility or didn’t care as he turned the key into the ebony lock and took us inside.

The bedroom was simple, yet elegant. A king-sized bed sat front and center with white fur blankets. A light-colored wooden dresser was pushed up against the opposite wall. Across the room a window with cross-hatched iron filigree fogged from the temperature difference, making it impossible to see inside or out. Two armchairs were placed in a seating area with a small table between them. I took one, and Charissa took the other.

Her shrewd gaze narrowed on me whenever the prince wasn’t looking. She needed to be out of the equation—and she needed to have no memory of me.

While Damon poured a glass of water from a pitcher sitting on his dresser, I leaned over to Charissa, persuading her in a barely audible whisper. “Tell him you want to get some wine for us. Return to the party. Forget about me.”

“I want to get more wine,” she said abruptly. I pulled back to glance at Damon as he turned around.

“I have wine—” Charissa stepped out while he was still speaking, and the door snicked shut. He stood there, puzzled, and finished his sentence. “Here.”

“Strange girl,” I said, taking the water goblet and taking a sip.

He shrugged, and I detected a hint of disappointment. “They usually are.”

“They?” I asked, setting my drink down and smoothing out the skirts of my gown. I knew exactly what he meant. All the women that came after him, only wanting status and the hopes of becoming his princess. Gag.

“My apologies,” he said, shaking his head and pressing his lips into a forced smile. He poured himself a cup of wine and sat in the chair next to me. “I was thinking out loud.”

“I’m sorry to have ruined your evening with her,” I began, placing my hand on my chest again, drawing his attention as I took a deep breath. There it was again. Hunger. Desire. I knew what he wanted. At the core of it, he was still called the Wicked Prince for a reason. I traced the keyhole of my dress with my finger, and he watched intently. “Perhaps I can make it up to you.”

“Come again?” His brows shot up, and I winked. It only took a moment for a wolfish grin to appear. He appraised me, head to toe. “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting that from you. Takes a lot to surprise me.”

I crooked my finger, beckoning him toward me. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”