Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Remme nods in approval. “Not bad, kiddo.”
My brother spots me from his periphery and does a double take.
A cackle bursts from my lips before I can stop it. I know that reaction. It’s the discomfort of a male who’s looking at someone who is the spitting image of the female he adores.
“Is something amusing to you?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing.” My lips twitch. Every time I take another’s form, I am given a memory through a dream. About a month ago, my dream was a memory of Hale in the cell across from Jasalyn in Mordeus’s dungeons. He protected her when the guards thought to torture her. I know him, so if he had told me, I wouldn’t have been surprised, but seeing it for myself, living Jasalyn’s memory in my dream, was something altogether different.
Hale folds his arms. “Lis. Don’t bullshit me.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like you, that’s all. To let a girl distract you from your mission.”
His brows fly up. “Do I look distracted?”
Remme chuckles, but doesn’t turn our way. I glare at his back. Coward.
Hale’s frown turns to a scowl. “What’d you see?”
“Enough,” I say, smoothing my skirts.
“Tell me,” he presses.
I lift my gaze to his. “You saved her, being there for her like that.”
He sets his jaw. “And your point?”
“My point is that you might’ve felt nothing more than protective of her then, but I’d bet my favorite sword your feelings are a little less innocent now that your princess is all grown up.”
“You haven’t even seen the way he looks at her,” Remme mutters.
But I have. I saw it in that split second before his rational mind reminded him that I’m not her.
“Butt out, Remme,” Hale says.
Skylar scowls, arms folded. “I don’t know why you’re all playing matchmaker, as if there can be any future there.”
My brother’s expression goes blank, and he drops his gaze to the ground. I’m not the only one who’s not keen on the whole of my fate. But unlike me, Hale would never dodge his destiny. And therein lies the problem.
“We should get you inside to meet the princess,” Natan says, appearing from the shadows between the cottage and its neighbor.
“I’ll take her in,” Hale says, waving for me to follow him up the set of wooden stairs into the tiny thatched-roof cottage.
I frown at his rounded ears as we head to the door. “Will you be traveling as humans or fae?” I ask.
“Fae,” he says, not bothering to look back at me. “It’s safer.”
“The princess too?”
He nods. “I don’t intend to travel around with her being recognizable.”
I don’t doubt it. And now I realize, more than ever, that protecting her isn’t just about his mission. It’s not just about destiny and the future of Elora. It’s about the princess. It’s about whatever connection grew between them during those weeks he was locked away in Mordeus’s dungeons.
The house is small and dim, warmed by a blazing fire.
The princess sits in front of the hearth, staring into the flames as if they hold the solution to all her problems. I’ve seen that face in the mirror many times after taking her form, but seeing her in front of me is different.
I know from Jas’s memories that her days in captivity changed her irreparably. She doesn’t like attention, and she hates the fae, especially the Unseelie.
The princess is a conundrum. She’s fragile and angry. She’s delicate and sharp. She was once so soft and hopeful, and now she’s hardened and bitter.
This princess radiates a certain something that goes beyond the smallness I’ve mimicked in her features. It’s a sadness. A deep-seated melancholy I can only hope I’m never able to truly duplicate. And something else as well. Something ethereal perhaps. Something that can only be gifted by the gods.
Princess Jasalyn, the human heir to the Unseelie throne, has the presence of a queen.
When Hale clicks the door closed behind me, her attention snaps to us, and she jumps up from her chair. “Oh. Hello. You do look . . .” She swallows, but as she takes me in, I can’t help but notice that her eyes aren’t wide with shock so much as furrowed in concentration. She wants this to work.
“Jas,” my brother says, guiding me deeper into the cottage to join the princess in front of the fire, “this is Felicity. My . . .” We exchange a look, and I realize he won’t be claiming me as his family. We share no blood, but it stings. “We are old friends.”
The princess frowns. “How did you come to know a fae shifter in Elora?”
He said he hadn’t told her everything yet, but it seems he hasn’t told her much at all.
“It’s a long story that I’m sure I’ll have a chance to tell you on our journey.”
“I look forward to that,” she says, gaze still fixed on me. “Would you mind giving us some privacy, Kendrick?”