Page 40 of Fae Tithe (The Cursed Courts #1)

The black stallions that pulled the carriage were huge, just like Declan had said.

The vehicle was vaguely dragon-shaped and gaudily gilded.

It shimmered in the night, drawing Helena’s attention like a moth to flame.

The doors of it looked like folded wings.

Driving the carriage, seated on top, were two Fae guards.

“Faedammit,” she grunted as she saw how fast the stallions were merely trotting through the sprawling gardens. I will have to do this quickly.

Helena watched with bated breath as the King’s carriage slowed before the warded gate, its wheels crunching softly on the gravel path. The stallions, sleek and powerful, halted obediently with unnatural discipline. For a moment, all was still.

Then, one of the Fae guards dropped from the driver’s seat, landing with the fluid, unnerving grace that only Fae-kind possessed. Helena’s heart thumped harder as he approached the heavy iron gate. She clenched her fists, knuckles white, breath shallow.

The guard slipped a key from beneath his cloak and pushed it into the massive padlock. She could see the shimmer of the ward, barely perceptible, that had sealed the gate with ancient, humming magic.

The clunking sound of the turning key echoed more loudly in her head than it should have. The ward dissolved in a ripple, vanishing as if it never existed. The gate creaked open.

The stallions stepped forward obediently, crossing the threshold into the street. Helena squinted at them through the gloom, guilt blooming in her chest. They were oblivious to the danger of the Wisp coin.

She clenched her jaw. I’m so sorry, it’s not your fault.

The guard, unhurried and confident, trailed the Dragon Carriage through the gate and turned to lock it behind him.

The clunk of the padlock set the ward back in place, a rush of magic resetting around the manor.

Without missing a beat, he vaulted back onto the seat beside his companion, the movement as effortless as wind through leaves.

The driver clicked his tongue. The stallions responded, hooves clomping on cobblestone as they began to move once more, breaking immediately into a quick trot. Helena took a deep breath, bracing her legs, and sprinted after them.

She managed to catch up with the Dragon Carriage, puffing heavily, before the horses gained more momentum and pulled too far ahead.

Helena pulled the device from her hidden pocket.

She held it in one hand and clenched her fist. It did not crush.

Sweat drenched her face and chest as her mind whirled.

“Fuck!” she spat.

“What are you doing?!” A Fae guard stood on top of the carriage, glowering down at her, his lithe body riding the bumps of the vehicle seamlessly.

Helena tried to break the Wisp coin between her two palms, but it did not give. She finally threw it onto the neat cobblestones of the road. She took a running leap, landing on the coin, and smashed it beneath the sole of her boot.

The effect was immediate. Helena’s vision was filled with a sickly, bright green.

The screams of the squealing stallions and pained shouts of the Fae Guards invaded her senses, making her ears ring.

The green faded and burning heat blasted her face, blistering her skin.

The two Fae guards were sprawled besides the half-collapsed carriage, their bodies smoking and charred.

The horses screamed and reared as the Wisp fire began to lick their rumps. Helena dashed over to them, not wanting the innocent animals caught in the inferno. She dodged their flailing hooves and unhitched each from the King’s carriage.

“Run!” Helena slapped each stallion’s rump. One bolted away into the night. The second trotted a short distance away before turning his head over his shoulder and pricking his ears back at the fiery wreckage behind her. “What is it, boy?”

Helena turned. To her horror, she saw an unblemished arm burst through the melted glass window of the carriage.

The bottom of her stomach dropped. “No,” she whispered.

She pulled the shucking knife from her boot, ripping it from its case.

She clenched it in her fist. Helena dashed to the hand that was trying to wrench open the door by pulling at the melted bronze handle.

She ignored the searing pain of the Wisp fire blistering the bare skin of her face and arms as she approached the flailing arm.

Helena drew a long line of gold blood as her blade bit his skin. There was a roar from within the carriage and the arm retracted. The King’s handsome face appeared in the flickering green light. The eerie flames had left him completely untouched.

“Little bitch. You think this filthy faerie magic would hurt me ?” Rian growled. “I am the Dragon Flame.”

“I think you should have thought twice before stealing little girls from their beds,” Helena snarled back.

She sprang upwards, brandishing her blade.

She struck true and plunged it into the bottom of his throat.

Helena dragged it down, slicing a U-shape across his chest. Golden blood streamed down his bare skin, the Wisp flames having scorched away most of his shirt.

She went to bring down her blade again, but the Seelie King caught her wrist.

“She did not look little to me,” he replied, a sick, twisted grin stretching across his face.

The Wisp fire lashed at Helena under his grasp.

Not only did it burn, but it also cut. Little scratches nicked her body wherever the flames licked her skin.

She grunted from the pain. Rian flew out his other injured arm and grappled Helena’s throat.

He dropped her wrist and held her up by the neck, the toes of her boots scraping the scorched cobblestones.

“You are a worm,” he hissed. “A filthy human born to serve.”

Helena’s voice was stolen as her windpipe was crushed beneath his iron grip.

The rings he wore on his fingers were red-hot and left scorching welts on her skin.

She rolled her tongue in her dry mouth and sucked in her cheeks.

Helena managed to work up just enough saliva to spit in his beautiful face.