Page 14

Three Nights Before the Blood Moon

I wait to eat until Dedra walks away, then take the same seat I used the first time I was here.

“Don’t listen to her,” Nieve says with a wry smile. “She’s jealous of you.”

“Why? Is there something going on between Kainen and her?”

Nieve places a dainty hand over her mouth. “Oh no. Prince Kainen is… different.”

I take a bite of a juicy apple, making a mental note to finish it—knowing what’s sacrificed to get food like this. “How so?”

“Well, male Fae are different from humans like Kainen. They are the most ancient lineage of magical. Their abilities originate from the four elements: air, fire, water, and stone. However, their silver tongues are the source of their greatest terror. Even though fairies are truth-bound and unable to lie, they are experts at leaving things out and creating illusions. Especially the males. When it comes to Kainen, both have power, but Kainen has a heart—buried deep, where no one thinks one exists. Fae usually marry within their own kind and are fated to one another. But after the war, our cultures changed. Now, we coexist. We mate. But usually, no. It’s still rare. As for Kainen... it’s easier to accept a male human mating with a Nymph—or a Fae with a Nymph—than a Nymph with a Fae.”

“Why is that? And how about Nymphs?”

I recall old myths from fantasy books and movies back home. I never paid much attention to them—until now.

She looks up and smiles. “Because Fae males are bigger assholes than humans. As for Nymphs or my kind, in the past, Nymphs and Fae secretly interacted. It was illegal to have such couplings since Nymph blood, albeit magical, weakens the Fae line. The Fae place an absolute premium on blood. But some hope love would disregard the rule of law.”

I raise a brow wanting to see who has her attention. “So where are these asshole Fae males?”

Her eyes light up. I'm sure there's one in particular she’s thinking of, because she suddenly bolts from her seat, grabs a few pieces of fruit, tosses them in a basket, and snatches my hand.

“Wait—what are you?—”

She pulls me down the hall, through the courtyard, turns left—and then we’re in the middle of a wide training field.

A group of tall, powerful-looking men are practicing magic and hand-to-hand combat. Their pointed ears give them away—Fae. They're massive, easily six-foot-six and towering over me. One throws his hand forward, launching another backward into a row of bushes. Laughter erupts as the other gets up, brushing leaves off as if it’s nothing.

“You think that’s funny?” he grins.

Another steps forward, arms raised in challenge.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Nieve says beside me.

“They’re... different,” I say, not sure what else to call it.

“They’re assholes. Stronger than humans, but the one good thing—they can’t lie.”

“I’m hoping that’s a good thing.”

She stiffens, eyes still locked on a tall male with white hair and ash-gray eyes. Muscles ripple beneath his skin, tattoos—or are they runes?—wrap his arms.

“Sometimes. But I guess it’s better than not knowing the truth.”

“It’s better to know the truth than believe a lie.”

Memories of that night with Mikah hit me like a punch to the gut. I’m surprised I haven’t thought of him more. Since yesterday, I haven’t really thought about home at all. I’ve been too busy trying to survive—and trying to prove Kainen wrong.

“Sometimes the truth hurts,” Nieve murmurs, eyes still tracking the white-haired Fae.

“How come they don’t use swords like Kainen?” I ask, changing the subject.

It’s obvious she’s watching someone with more than curiosity.

“Metal swords are deadly to our kind,” she says. “They train in hand-to-hand combat, magic, spells... that sort of thing.”

“Does Kainen?—”

“Train with them?” She finishes for me. “Most of the time, yes. He got word this morning that the Nightfallen attacked near the border. That’s why they’re here. These warriors patrol the line between the ocean and Ealriya. They’re the ones who keep the rest of us safe.”

“How many are you?”

“In the beginning? Hundreds of thousands. Different kinds. Fae alone? Thousands, give or take. These men are the elite. They train in secret. That’s why they’re here instead of out there.”

“And Kainen?”

“He went to see how many we’ve lost and what the Nightfallen took.”

“Who are the Nightfallen?”

“No one knows. But they come in packs—like last night. They can mimic any of our kind. Nightweavers... but deadlier. Wolves. Fae. The only thing they can’t shapeshift into is humans. That’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

“So... if I were a goat, I’d be dead?”

She laughs, catching the attention of several of the Fae.

“Well, well. Nieve brought the prisoner out to play,” a voice calls.

Nieve rolls her eyes. “She’s not a prisoner, Tristan.”

Tristan turns toward us. His eyes land on me. “That’s not what Prince Kainen told us.”

“Prince Kainen has a hard time believing people,” I blurt.

Tristan raises a perfect white brow. “Does he know you said that?”

“Plenty,” I snap.

The corner of his lip lifts. “You came dressed for battle.”

The others around him chuckle.

“Stop it, Tristan,” Nieve says, her tone sharp.

“Are you still mad, Nieve?”

Her cheeks flush. “No.”

But the lie is transparent, and it clearly amuses Tristan.

“Leave it alone, Tristan,” another Fae says, watching me with quiet interest. “We all know how Nieve feels. She’s made it obvious a few times. I guess she still can’t take the hint.”

“It’s pretty obvious you care what Nieve feels,” I shoot back.

His jaw twitches. Nieve’s not the only one hiding something.

Tristan turns back to me. “Is that why you’re here? Curious about the rest of us, Selene? Or is it true—were you sent by that tyrant, Therion?”

I’m not surprised he knows my name. Everyone seems to know I’m the so-called traitor.

“I’m not from here.”

Tristan crosses his arms, and more Fae step forward behind him, forming a loose circle. It reminds me of high school—the moment right before the bully takes his first swing.

“I heard you go around telling people that. I’ll entertain it. Where are you from?”

“Idaho. It’s on a planet called Earth.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t. But I think you're smart enough to know there’s no way someone like me could outsmart Prince Kainen alone.”

“There’s no way she doesn’t wield some sort of magic,” a voice from the back murmurs.

More mumbles of agreement follow.

“I assure you—I’m human. No magic. No powers.”

“What do you think, Devlin?” Tristan asks.

Devlin, the white-haired Fae Nieve had been watching, lifts his chin. “Prove it.”

“You mean fight you?” I ask, stunned.

Devlin shrugs. “Or you can stand there and let Tristan kick your ass. Your choice.”

My stomach sinks. I have zero combat training. And these aren’t normal guys—they’re freaking fairies with magic and muscles. I didn’t miss their fangs when they spoke.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Nieve snaps. “She’s not a warrior.”

Tristan gestures to my leather pants. “She’s dressed like one. I’m sure you had something to do with that. Like that dress you wore for me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” I spit.

His eyes flash, shifting color—and then a blast of energy slams into my chest. I hit the ground hard, the air whooshing from my lungs.

I gasp. Cough. Try to breathe.

“What the hell, Tristan?!” Nieve shouts.

Devlin grabs her, holding her back. “Settle down, Nieve. This’ll be quick. You can go back to fan-girling when it’s over.”

Nieve tries to wrangle free, but she’s no match for him.

I push up, lungs still burning—and sprint.

I hurl myself forward and kick Tristan square in the balls.

He grunts, folding to the ground with a pained oomph . His face turns a deep shade of purple.

Guess it worked. He’s not wearing full armor like Kainen.

And I don’t wait for him to get back up.

I run.

I run as fast as my feet will allow.

I can hear footsteps behind me, each one louder than the last. There are no places to hide—just skeletal trees, blackened and dead, jutting from the ashen ground like bones.

"You can’t run from me, Selene," Tristan’s voice chants like a curse, far too close. Like he’s breathing against the back of my neck.

Panic hammers in my chest. My lungs burn. My throat feels like it’s been scraped raw. But I keep running.

Then—I'm yanked off the ground like prey in the jaws of a predator. I slam into the dirt, air punched from my lungs, the impact rattling my bones. Stars burst behind my eyes as I try to suck in breath.

Above me, moonlight flickers between the warped branches. The phases blur—full, crescent, blood moon. I blink, and Tristan is there, smirking with wicked triumph.

“You really thought you’d get away from me?” he sneers, voice laced with venom.

Rage lights through me, sharp and burning. Every muscle aches, every breath hurts, but I don’t care. “And you’re the asshole chasing after a girl who kicked your ass.”

His smile fades. His eyes flash with a silvery glow.

Then I’m choking.

I clutch at my throat, but there’s nothing there—no hands. Just the pressure. Invisible. Unrelenting. His magic. My lungs scream, and my eyes fill with tears.

“Tristan, stop! You’re hurting her!” Nieve’s voice pierces the clearing.

“She’s just a liability! Everyone knows what the prince is going to do with her anyway. I’m just doing it early.”

“Tristan—STOP IT!” I wheeze, gasping, my body trembling. My vision blurs into spots. Nieve is crying, her hands glowing faintly as she tries to intervene. But he’s too strong.

Until the earth shakes.

A tremor splits the forest floor. The trees groan. The pressure on my throat disappears as I drop to the ground, coughing violently. I drag in air like it’s the first time I’ve ever tasted it.

A roar shatters the night sky—feral, fiery, ancient.

Malachi.

Then—

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Kainen’s voice booms like thunder. Malachi’s wings beat once above us, casting firelight across the trees.

Tristan stumbles back, terrified. Kainen strides forward, bare-chested, his sword drawn, fury etched in every hard line of his face. His body bears a fresh wound down his back, still bleeding.

“She—attacked me!” Tristan pleads, trembling.

“She’s mine,” Kainen snarls, sword pressing against Tristan’s throat. “And not your concern.”

The other warriors shift uneasily behind him, watching but doing nothing.

Nieve rushes to my side, her hands shaking. “Selene, look at me. We need to get you to a healer.”

“I’m fine,” I rasp, still trying to recover.

“No, you’re not. He used magic on you—his kind of spell can linger.”

“I can’t leave. Kainen—he’s going to?—”

“He deserves whatever happens,” she says, her voice steady even as her eyes shimmer with pain. “And he knows it.”

She touches my arm, and suddenly we’re gone—like the air itself shifted around us—and we’re standing in front of a small cottage.

The door creaks open. A tiny goblin with silver eyes peers out, a pair of glasses perched on her hooked nose. “What happened?” she asks sharply.

“She was attacked. By Tristan,” Nieve says, fury in her voice.

The goblin tsks. “He’s always been too reckless.” She waves us in. “Sit her down. She’s paler than mushroom rot.”

My body sinks into the wooden bench. I feel weightless, barely there.

The goblin presses a glowing vial to my lips. “This’ll taste like feet and death, but it’ll stop the lingering effects of his power. You need rest.”

I swallow. It's bitter, earthy, like rotting lemons. But I drink it. My eyes start to drift closed, heavy as iron.

The last thing I hear is his voice.

Kainen.

"I need you to live, Selene. Please… for me."