Page 60 of The Path of Blood and Betrayals

“Maybe we don’t know everything about them.”

The magic turns cold and I exhale, body slumping. Finally, the pain evaporates and only the familiar caress of Taylay’s power touches my skin.

“Maybe, he wants something.” He pulls back, hands bloody, but I’m mended. Mostly.

The wound is now a deep gash, oozing a trickle of blood. Tay looks to his hands, and sighs, exhausted. “Sorry, Max. I don’t have much energy left.”

Grabbing his hands, I nod. Unlike my magic, which seems to never stop, Tay’s magic has a limit. “It’s alright. I’ll wrap it. You should rest.” His sword at his hip is covered in red. “You fought?”

“It was either fight or die.” He chuckles humorlessly. “Did you?”

Licking my lips, I release him, and wait for him to understand.

I did fight, but with my magic and not my daggers.

As soon as I close my mouth, he tenses, face crestfallen. “You used your magic.”

“As you said, it was either fight or be killed.”

He wipes his brow, fingers trembling. “Max, you can’t use your magic. What if the heir saw?”

I have no response for that, so I shrug, arms listless.

My friend doesn’t care that I survived a horrible fight with a beast we had no way of preparing for, only that my magic—evil magic as his elders call it— was used.

No matter what I do, how I prove myself, he still fears my magic. He still fearsme.

“I’m going to lay down,” he tells me, voice hard. He’s so angry. “Then I’ll get to healing the remaining volunteers. You should find bandages and stay out of their way.”

Because I bring nothing to the table, without Tay, I’m just a liability. When did he think so little of me?

Once he’s gone, I stand, walking the edge of the camp, keeping an eye on the forest. Behind me, the men make plans for better protections, the Dark Fae guards reminding them of patrols.

They didn’t have patrols set up? We are so horribly ill-prepared for this journey.

Back in my tent, I grab a spare shirt and shred it for linen and change out of my shirt. There’s an old shirt from Tay in there and the extra room won’t pull on the bandages, so I change, body heavy.

I’m exhausted, drained, a pounding headache forming in my temples but I can’t rest yet. I don’t want to.

The look on Tay’s face, his words, haunt me.

He doesn’t get me—doesn’t want to understand me, look outside his Coven’s prejudice. Instead, he’d rather I hide. Like I always have.

I don’t stay in the camp. It’s stupid to trek through the woods alone, but I follow the footpath back to the clearing we trained in. I can’t stay there, hearing heartbeats and feeling like I’m a mistake.

Instead, I search for the heir. A Fae who could kill me, I feel compelled to be near him over my friend. Of all the beings in this world, he understand the darker parts I try to hide and makes them seem… normal.

I’m not naive; Taylay could be right. Dark Fae are selfish—he could be doing this to get close to me, use my magic somehow. But that logic doesn’t seem to hit me.

Stumbling over roots, I walk into the woods, further away, enjoying the silence. I don’t follow a path, just my feet until I come to a small circled spot, the lush green trees overhead filled with white blossoms.

I look up, smiling, and promptly trip, slamming into the trunk of a thick tree, mended shoulder taking the brunt of the fall.

Yelping, I cradle my arm to my chest and bite my cheek to keep from crying.That hurts.

“You’d make a terrible hunter, pet,” the heir teases, standing in the middle of the clearing, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place.

Chapter 22