Page 4

CHAPTER 4

LUCAS

I tighten my hold on Yvette’s hand. Gods, I hope her mother is still alive. If the little human endured the long trek up the mountain and the confrontation with flesh traders only for her mother to perish during her absence, I will be heartbroken for her.

Clearly, Yvette cares for her mother deeply. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have risked her life trying to travel to Sorsston for a healer. The roads in these parts certainly aren’t safe. Particularly during times of war when people become desperate.

Guilt ravages me that I didn’t stay close to Yvette after our first encounter, and I resolve that going forward I’ll make sure she’s better protected. I have a twenty-eight thousand strong army at my command. I could spare some soldiers to guard her aunt’s cottage. I could also order the soldiers to accompany Yvette anywhere she might go.

A growl builds within me, but I tamp it down. Fuck. I want to protect the little human, but the idea of anyone doing it but me leaves me on the verge of roaring my rage.

Gods, what is happening? Why am I becoming so attached to the dark-haired female so quickly? I’ve known her for less than a day, yet I feel compelled to keep her safe.

If not for the curse, I would wonder if she’s my fated mate.

As she knocks briefly on the door before leading me inside, I think about my father’s order that I marry a human female. But I also remind myself that I promised Yvette I would help her mother without expecting anything in return. I told her she didn’t have to make a deal with me.

Earlier in the day, right before I’d heard her scream, I’d considered taking her as my bride by force. After spending more time around her, however, I cannot fathom hurting her like that. My spirits sink a little because once I heal her mother, she’ll probably expect me to depart the cottage and never bother her again.

“Aunt Heather!” Yvette calls. “I’m back, and I’ve brought a healer!”

“Yvette? You’re back already?” comes a soft, muffled voice from the end of a hallway.

A door opens and a petite middle aged human female emerges while rubbing her eyes and covering a yawn. Aunt Heather, I presume.

“Oh, I must’ve fallen asleep while sitting with your mama,” the woman says. “I didn’t expect you back so soon, child. Who is that with you? It’s awfully dim in the hallway and I’m not wearing my spectacles.” She pauses, places her hands on her hips, and squints in our direction.

“Aunt Heather, I need you to promise to stay calm.” Yvette clears her throat. “I’ve brought a very kind and very skilled highborn fae with me. His name is Lucas, and he saved me from a gang of flesh traders on the road. He also healed my injuries, and after I told him about Mama, he offered to help. He’s healed people, fae and human, suffering from mangga bites before.”

A very kind and very skilled highborn fae . Even though I suspect she’s just trying to keep her aunt calm, Yvette’s flattering description of me makes the pointed tips of my ears burn.

Aunt Heather’s eyes go wide, and I half expect her to start shrieking. I remain ready to summon a glamour, but in the end, it’s not needed. The woman frowns but steps aside and gestures for us to enter the bedroom she just vacated. “Leave it to you, Yvette, to find the only kind highborn fae in existence,” she says in a grumbling tone. “But considering what happened to your uncle, I don’t believe you would bring this fae here without good cause. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks for being understanding, Aunt Heather.” Yvette glances over her shoulder and gives me a hopeful smile, as though she thinks I need some encouragement to walk past her aunt who clearly dislikes my people. I don’t have to ask what happened to the uncle in question. It’s obvious he met his death at fae hands.

“I promise I will heal Yvette’s mother,” I tell the woman, hoping to put her more at ease. Yes, I could easily glamour her, but I find myself wanting to win her over. Because if I can win this fae-despising family member of Yvette’s over, perhaps I can win Yvette herself over.

The woman makes a noncommittal noise in her throat and enters the room behind us. Yvette guides me toward the bed that’s occupied by a sickly female clearly suffering the effects of a mangga bite. Her telltale paleness and the sour scent of the bite wound are evidence enough.

“Show me where she was bitten.”

Yvette drops my hand and pulls the covers back to reveal her mother’s right leg. It’s swollen and purple, and I easily spot the black fang marks on her lower calf. Immediately, I get to work, holding my hands over the bite as healing magic gathers in my palms. Spiraling waves of gold emit from my hands. Gasps sound in the room as Yvette and her aunt stand close and watch as the fang marks fade and the swelling goes down.

“Holy gods, he’s doing it. He’s helping.”

“Of course I’m helping, Aunt Heather.” I spare a moment to meet the woman’s eyes. “I promised Yvette I would save her mother, and I am a male of my word.”

“I’m not your aunt.” She gives me a scolding look. “Just call me Heather.”

“Very well, Heather .” I smile, though too late I realize my sharp, pointed teeth have shocked her.

She gulps hard and takes a step back.

“As I said earlier, I promised your niece I would save her mother, who I suppose must be your sister. The resemblance is uncanny. Especially now that her color is improving.” I offer her another smile, this time with my mouth closed, and she gives me a cautious nod and appears a bit more at ease.

I refocus my attention on Yvette’s mother, satisfied that her eyelids are already fluttering, an indication that she’s on the verge of consciousness. Her cheeks contain a healthy flush, and her leg is no longer swollen in the slightest. A few more waves of healing magic and I’m certain she’ll wake up.

Yvette steps closer and places a hand on my arm. Tears gleam in her eyes. “This means so much to me, Prince Lucas. Thank you.”

“ Prince Lucas?” Aunt Heather groans, though she doesn’t become hysterical as I’d feared she might if she learned my true identity. “Gods, Yvette, did you really drag a Summer Court prince to my house?”

“Oops. Yes, Aunt Heather, I did. But he’s a very nice Summer Court prince. He saved me from flesh traders, remember? I would be on my way to an auction block outside of Sorsston right now if he hadn’t so gallantly rescued me.”

I lean closer to Yvette and whisper, “You think I’m gallant?”

She smirks. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” I whisper. “I think you must be falling in love with me.”

Her face grows red, and she fumbles for a response. Eventually, she says, “You wish,” in an adorably flippant tone. Then an expression of absolute joy breaks across her face, and she reaches for her mother. “Oh, Mama, you’re awake. I’m here, Mama. Don’t be scared. Everything will be all right. Aunt Heather is here too.”

“Carol! Oh, thank gods, you’re awake!” Aunt Heather exclaims.

I step aside, and a joyous reunion ensues. Something warm and tight affects my chest as I watch Yvette and Heather take turns hugging Carol. Suffice it to say, I find myself deeply moved by the display of affection. It brings back memories from centuries ago when my mother occasionally hugged me, a show of fondness she would only perform if my father was out of sight.

When Yvette’s mother suddenly notices me standing along the wall, a quick introduction is made, and I’m relieved she seems more accepting of my presence than her sister.

The women laugh and continue embracing one another while Yvette regales her mother with her experiences on the road. When she describes her rescue from the flesh traders and her subsequent healing at my hands, she aims a few warm glances my way. She also omits any mention of our first encounter, when I mockingly interrogated her on the road and she was forced to produce the letter of protection.

Does she realize the letter is useless when it comes to me?

Does she understand that it’s only out of the kindness in my heart, kindness I didn’t realize I possessed, that’s kept me from absconding with her?

Not for the first time, I wonder why I can’t be as cruel as Axton and Zandorr, my older brothers. One of my first memories involves the two of them skinning an orc alive. The orc’s crime? Accidentally venturing into Summer Court lands.

While I’ve killed plenty of humans and orcs, I’ve only done so during battle or in cases where it was well-deserved. Like the flesh traders who tried to capture Yvette. And yet my father consistently orders me to lead the Summer Court army. During my lifetime, I’ve led the army into battle far more often than either of my brothers.

Perhaps King Haratt hopes the cruelty of the soldiers and other highborn fae who make up the army will one day rub off on me. Still, I believe I’ve proven myself in battle. I’ve never lost a fight, and I kill my fair share of human and orc soldiers whenever I must.

Speaking of the Summer Court army, my soldiers along with General Dalgaard are probably wondering where the fuck I’ve disappeared to. I hope they aren’t searching for me. Considering that I’ve been absent for less than a day and the army is currently occupying the recently defeated city of Sorsston, the very city Yvette intended to visit, I suppose they probably think I’m still off conducting aerial sweeps of the countryside.

But I must return to Sorsston soon. Tribute Day is scheduled for tomorrow in the newly captured city, and I must be present when each household visits the castle to offer their ten pieces of silver. Or a son or a daughter.

I try to push away the sudden guilt that visits me over the knowledge that I’ll soon be responsible for ripping more families apart, and I quickly remind myself that Sorsston’s army attacked my people first. A week ago, they’d nearly decimated a small settlement filled with regular faefolk.

I ignore the growl that’s building in my throat. I’m a highborn fae. I’m a Summer Court Prince. I cannot show leniency when it comes to conquering the human villages and cities that attack us. Ussha, the lifeforce of my people’s magic, will only keep spreading outward from our four courts, prompting more regular faefolk who possess very little magic to resettle in human and orc territories. Regular faefolk count upon highborn fae for protection, and I cannot fail those who depend on me.

Tomorrow, I will preside over yet another Tribute Day in yet another conquered human city, and I will show no mercy. But my resolve falters when I look at Yvette as she beams down at her mother.

I don’t want to leave Yvette alone and unprotected. But how can I take her with me? Her mother just woke up after nearly dying, and I doubt the pretty little human will agree to leave her aunt’s cottage so soon, if ever.

“I must admit, I can’t believe I’m saying this, you know, considering what your army did to my home city,” Carol says as she sits up in bed while looking me over, “but I would like to thank you for all your help. I appreciate you saving my life, but more than anything I appreciate what you did for Yvette. Thank you for saving my daughter from those flesh traders. You’re a good male, Prince Lucas.”

A good male. I nearly laugh aloud. Nearly. Instead, I offer a respectful nod and say, “I was happy to help, and I’m glad we arrived at the cottage in time. Mangga bites are no joke.”

Yvette turns to me with a brilliant smile.

Then she stuns me by throwing her arms around me and hugging me tight.

“Thank you, Prince Lucas,” she murmurs in a grateful tone. Her head rests beneath my chin. “Thank you for saving my mother.”

Too shocked to speak and unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of intimacy, I simply stand still as she hugs me. My arms remain at my sides as I gape down at her. A hug. Yvette, the lovely human I would like to claim, is hugging me.

Slowly, I bring my arms up and wrap them around her, returning the embrace. She tightens her hold on me, and a little shudder passes through her body, making me suspect I’m not the only one being affected by our closeness.

Her body is so enticingly soft against mine as she presses her stomach directly to my crotch that it takes great willpower not to become rock hard. Now is not the time and place for my pants to become tight.

“You are most welcome, sweetling,” I whisper into her ear, speaking low enough that her mother and aunt won’t overhear.

Another shudder passes through her, and her breath also catches in her throat, a lovely noise that makes me wonder what she would sound like in the throes of passion. Will I ever find out? Gods, I hope so.

Eventually, she withdraws from the embrace and regards me with a pretty flush covering her face. I allow my arms to drop away from her, but I don’t take a step back, and neither does she. The chatter of her mother and aunt falls into the background, and time seems to stop.

If we were alone right now, I’m certain I would kiss her.

“I know you aren’t requiring me to make a deal with you, Prince Lucas, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask. I feel as though I’m in your debt, and I am so very grateful for your assistance today. You’ve shown me a great deal of kindness, and for as long as I live, I’ll never forget it.”

She rises on her toes, takes hold of my shirt collar, and pulls me down so she can place a quick kiss to my cheek. My ears burn and heat pummels through me.

She’s too sweet. Too innocent.

I would be a monster if I tried to convince her to become my bride. She isn’t the type of human who’s cut out for a life among my people.

And yet… I still want her. I need her.

The idea of walking out of this cottage and never seeing her again fills me with an emptiness that makes my future without her seem desolate. When she smiles at me, it’s like the sun is shining directly overhead.

She takes a step back and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear, her demeanor shy and awkward. Another blush steals over her, and fuck if my pants don’t finally become tight.

“I will leave you to continue the reunion with your mother, sweetling,” I say in a strained voice.

Her face falls. “Oh. Are you headed back to your army? Or to the Summer Court?”

“No, not yet,” I reply before I can think better of it. “I am… exhausted from the events of today and from using so much of my magic, and I will require some rest before I can make the journey back to my army.” It’s not a total lie. Using magic does deplete my energy somewhat. But I must stall my departure if I’m to have more time with Yvette, and I need more time. I’m not ready to leave her side just yet.

Her face lights up, and she glances over her shoulder and says, “Hey, Mama and Aunt Heather, I’ll be right back.” She places a hand on my arm, guides me into the corridor, then shuts the door behind her. She leads me into a sitting room and points at a plush chair. “Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll get you a drink.” She disappears into the kitchen and soon returns with a glass of water.

“Thank you, sweetling.” Why can’t I stop calling her that? The first time I uttered the endearment it was in a mocking way. But all the other times? All the other times, I’ve meant it.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. “Not to brag, but I’m an excellent cook. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my chicken pot pie.” She holds up her hands before I can speak. “That’s it. I’ve decided. You’re staying for dinner and I’m making pot pie. It’s the least I can do to thank you for all you’ve done.”