“Poor choice, you foolish scum,” Haxil said under his breath.
The prince’s eyes narrowed. His shoulders tightened, but his hands stayed open and his arms loose. Rope veins bulged in his neck, and his jaw clenched as the air seemed to ripple around him.
Shallow breaths lifted my chest as I waited for his deadly affinity power to rise, but instead of letting it loose and killing the drunk male in a blink, the prince reached for his swords.
“Ah, he’s going to give him a chance to come to his senses.” Haxil chuckled, but nothing about this felt funny to me.
The male in his ice bear form advanced, swiping out a paw. The prince deflected it with the hilt of his sword, dipping with the movement.
Roaring, the fairy charged.
Everything next happened in a blur of power and speed. The fairy lunged, his gaping bear maw going right for the prince’s throat, but the prince ducked and rolled at the last minute, his body moving with liquid grace despite his height and tall wings.
Coming to a crouch, the prince slashed out, his weapon arcing through the air right as the fairy reared.
A line of red appeared on the bear’s belly, and his roar turned to one of pain. Behind him, the fae youth still lay listlessly. Time was running out.
“Last chance!” the prince called. “Transform back now!”
Despite the blood running freely along its fur, the husband gave a furious bellow and then ducked his head and charged.
The prince’s lip curled. “So be it.”
The fairy in his ice bear form swiped a massive paw toward the prince’s face.
But his arm didn’t connect.
A shockwave of magic unleashed from the prince.
My breath stopped.
Time stood still.
The prince’s affinity rose so swiftly it speared the air.
Power radiated from the entire house.
I shuddered.
Jolted.
Nearly vomited.
An agonized roar came from the fairy. His massive head tilted back, revealing a mouth filled with fangs. Convulsions shook his furry frame, then he crumpled to the ground, his entire body spasming as a shimmer of energy vibrated the air around him. His figure morphed, the transformation happening too quickly for me to see.
I blinked, and a naked fae male lay still on the stone floor. I brought a hand to my mouth and took a step forward. Nausea churned in my gut. Blessed Mother, I had no idea if he was dead or only unconscious.
Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed the door and pulled it open.
“Ilara, no!” Haxil called.
But I flew through the door before the guard could stop me. My focus zeroed in on the fairy. He couldn’t be dead. The prince wouldn’t kill him for being drunk and acting violently. Surely, he’d simply subdued him.
Prince Norivun’s frosty gaze cut to mine, and then he was there, standing in front of me as a deadly coldness swirled around him.
I tried to sidestep him, but he met my attempts like a wall, his body once again there.
“Is he dead?” I whispered.
The prince’s jaw tightened.
“Please don’t kill him.”
“I’m sorry, my prince,” Haxil said as he encircled my arm from behind. “She ran inside before I could stop her.”
“Don’t kill him. Please.” Tears pricked my eyes as I gazed upward at the prince. “Surely, you won’t. Surely, you’re not that much of a monster.”
The muscle in Prince Norivun’s jaw ticked. “Remove her, Haxil.”
“Yes, my prince. Apologies again.”
And then I was being tugged backward, away from a sobbing Mealow as her husband lay still on the floor. Lifeless.
As soon as I saw that, I rounded on Haxil. “He killed him? He really killed him?”
The guard pulled me through the door, his grip firm. “Of course, he killed him,” he growled quietly.
Shock rippled through me, and my feet planted to the ground, but the guard didn’t hesitate. He picked me up and carried me the remainder of the distance away from the house.
Memories swirled through my mind of the moment I’d learned of my family being killed. The anguish, the disbelief, then the rising fury.
“He’s a monster,” I said in a choked whisper when Haxil placed me on my feet again. Once more, the prince had destroyed a family, even if the father had been abusive and feral. The prince had still torn that family apart.
“He did what was needed,” Haxil replied gruffly.
I took a step away from him and then another, as the realization cut me to the quick that the sensations I’d just experienced were what it felt like to be in the presence of the prince’s releasing affinity. My hand flew to my mouth as my breath seized. Was that what my parents and brother had felt when the prince enacted his affinity on them? Were those narrowed, crystalline blue eyes the last thing they saw before his affinity sucked their souls?
Tears flooded my eyes. One slid down my cheek as a sob wracked my chest. The urge to vomit grew.
“That fairy didn’t stand a chance. But why? Why kill him? The prince could have restrained him. That male didn’t need to die.”
Haxil’s brow furrowed, his expression turning guarded. “Have you ever tried to take a fairy with an ice bear affinity into custody?”
All I could manage was to shake my head. I was breathing so fast. Too fast.
“Then you don’t know it’s near impossible to do so safely.”
Near impossible, but not impossible? But I couldn’t voice the question. I couldn’t speak at all. Blessed Mother, my family had suffered what I’d just witnessed.
Inside the house, Mealow’s wails rose. “He’s dead,” she said. “He’s dead. He’s dead.” Her sobs rose higher, a piercing cry that seemed to echo down the valley.
“But your son’s not. He’s alive because your husband’s dead.” A disgusted snarl tore from the prince. “Ryder, seek a healer, now!”
A whoosh of air shot against my wet cheeks as the warrior fairy came careening from around the back of the house. Nish and Sandus immediately maneuvered to cover the gap that his departure left.
Dozens of villagers were now out of their homes, standing in the street, watching the spectacle unfold around them. A few glanced my way, raking over my frame.
“Who’s she?” one hissed.
“Probably his whore,” another replied under his breath.
A flare of shame crept over me even though I was anything but the prince’s whore, but the sneers in the crowd grew as did their looks of fear and revulsion. But those sneers weren’t just for me. They were for Prince Norivun himself.
Ignoring them, Ryder called, “Who’s a healer?”
Nobody moved.
Ryder’s long braid whipped around his shoulder when he bared his teeth. “That young male is one of your own! Who will save him?”
A few shuffled their feet, then a slim boy pushed through the crowd. “I will, my lord.”
The boy didn’t have full wings—they were only half-formed. He was still in the midst of maturing, which meant his healing affinity had probably only recently manifested.
“I’m not a lord,” Ryder replied, then gave him a once-over. “Do you know how to use your affinity yet?”