Testing indeed. Because I know she suspects me. I find myself suddenly less able to put on a fake smile and say the right words simply because of my sister already doing just that. And I’m starting to doubt if any of Creatchin is as nefarious as my mind is making her out to be.
The fae woman at her side with big black wings and even blacker teeth smiles seething at me with fake kindness dripping from her tongue. Creatchin calls her an advisor but sometimes that title slips up. And she calls her something else. She calls her … mother.
Both of them are an unnerving sight to see.
All I know of her is what Ravar told be just before Creatchin killed him. Powerful magic and dark madness are all this woman is made of. She’s conniving. And she won’t hesitate to kill me just as she did her lover, Prince Ravar.
So I have to pass these tests. Even if I don’t understand them at all.
“It’s just a headache, my queen.” My tone that was once so even and assured is quiet and pleasant when I address this deadly woman.
I fucking hate it. I just want to scream and spit and figure out what game they’re all playing at!
“Perhaps you should lie down.” Creatchin’s advisor, Seelvie reveals those sharp black teeth behind her kind smile.
“Creatchin’s smile mirror’s her mothers.
Fuck those fake smile.
I fake-smile right back. But just know that I hate doing it. The fakeness is intoxicating, though. It gets in your head, and you can’t stop the stupid, catty kindness that’s rancid on your tongue.
“Indeed, you’re very right.” I even fucking curtsey to them. I curtsey! In black pants and combat boots I’m doing that weirdfucking half-ass elegant bow that looks more like I’m trying to hold in an awkward shit than sophisticatedly motioning farwell.
I. Hate. It.
But I scurry away nonetheless.
The hushed symphony of whispers follows me down every hall. The hell fae leer at me with narrowed eyes. A crimson fox shifter gives me a similar glare as I pass him by. As does the incubus. And one antlered man with long white ears who may or may not be a jackalope...
The stares trail around behind me like ghosts now.
The only time I can catch my breath and finally drop all the pretending is when the heavy door to our quiet bedroom closes behind me every night.
As I push it closed this time, gruff and angry voices cut short at the sight of me. Arguing halts in an instant. And the two hellhound shifters in front of me give me a look similar to the assholes I just passed in the halls.
“What!” I growl at Roman and Avian, who both have tension lining their pretty faces.
Seriously, can I just have like a single second to not slice my feet on the eggshells I’ve been trampling over all day?
“Nothing,” Roman yells, shoving his hand hard over his short black hair.
The weight of the sigh that pushes from Avian’s lungs just confirms even more that it’s not nothing.
The two of them stand shirtless in black, dirt-stained pants, facing each other with hard grimaces that feel all too similar to the sweet fuck faces I hide from every day. And just like with everyone else in this kingdom, I pretend like I don’t see it.
For maybe a second.
“What’s with you two?” I grind out, my arms folding over my short shirt so hard that I feel it ride up even higher.
Roman notices. Sure, Avian’s blind, but he does notice Roman noticing somehow.
“Stop looking at her tits and answer her, Roman,” Avian says sharply.
“I did,Avian.” He emphasizes his friend’s name in an obnoxious, hard tone. “I said it was nothing. Because it is nothing. Right?” The two of them are glaring at one another like puppies about to pounce into a tumble of sharp nipping teeth and whining growls.
For Goddess Moon’s sake, can we please be adults?
Avian shakes his head, his braid atop his head loosening a few strands of chestnut hair into his silver eyes. “Roman thinks you like me.”
