Page 61 of The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1)

ALICE

As Regina instructed, I sit in the fresh straw, trying to stay as still and quiet as possible in the closed stall. It’s difficult when the hay makes my nose itch, and I’ve been holding back a sneeze for what feels like hours. It’s uncomfortable sitting for so long, and no matter how I stretch my legs, I ache to stand up.

Regina didn’t know how long I’d have to hide here. It could be all night for all I know. Will the Faerie beasts find me in the stable? Twilight is already darkening the building. The horses are quiet as they eat their nightly rations, with only an occasional knicker and the shifting of large bodies.

Surely there is some sort of protective charm warding the stable. How else would the horses stay safe at night? Or do the Faerie creatures only prey on stray humans?

I draw my legs to my chin, looping my arms underneath my knees and skirts as I wait.

A sound makes my ears prick. I go still, holding my breath, not daring to move a muscle.

There it is again—a soft thump against the ground, like a muffled footstep.

I break into a cold sweat, imagining all the things that might have found me. How many are in the queen’s entourage? For all I know, the grounds could be prowling with Fae men who would be all too delighted to find a human girl cowering in the straw.

“Alice,” a soft voice calls, so familiar I almost burst into tears. “Where are you?”

My response catches in my throat. What if it’s a trick?

The owner of the voice pauses just beyond the stall door, directly above where I hide. “Alice?”

I need to say something—it’s Brahm. I’m sure of it.

“Where did she go?” he mutters, sounding so much like himself I decide I have no choice but to take the risk.

“I’m here,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

The shuffling continues, and the stall door I’m leaning against suddenly opens, nearly sending me backward.

Brahm sighs, kneeling next to me in his full bandit garb. “Are you all right?”

Gulping, I nod.

“Come on,” he says, taking my hand. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Across the bridge. It’s the only place a queen of Faerie cannot touch you.”

Holding tightly to Brahm’s hand, I hurry through the grounds after him, staying in the shadows, hiding behind trees when he instructs it. We cut through the woods, avoiding the road. Things scamper around us, and golden eyes watch from the bracken.

A shrill squeal nearly paralyzes me, but Brahm urges me to keep moving.

“Not much longer,” he promises. “We’re close now.”

It feels like it must be midnight before we arrive at the bridge. The nearly full moon crests the forest just as we reach it, sending its eerie glow across the landscape. Just beyond, Kellington flickers with merry firelight. I can just make out a candlelit Year’s End tree in the window of a distant farmhouse.

For the first time since we fled, we must walk into the open. I tremble as Brahm assures me it will be all right, feeling as if there is no way my shaking legs will carry me across the bridge.

“We’ll go together,” he says, squeezing my hand.

“Do you think we were followed?” I ask.

“I don’t believe so.”

I take a deep breath, and then I nod. “Let’s go.”

Cautiously, we step onto the road. Nothing leaps at us; there is no sudden yell.