She wished she hadn’t heard a thing.
6
FIFTEEN YEARS OLD
Violet screamed and scrambled up the nearest tree, breathing hard as she stared at the tigon below. She’d glamoured herself to be invisible, but the beast seemed to see her anyway. Animals shouldn’t be able to see her.
Could fae lose their magic?Have I upset the gods and they’ve decided to feed me to the wild?
Tigons were large cats the size of a small horse. Black stripes lined their snow-white fur, and a large mane of pitch-black quill sheaths covered their head and neck. When a tigon felt threatened, sharp quills shot out of their skin into the sheaths, forming a razor-sharp barrier to protect their throat.
She’d seen sketches and paintings before, but neither did their bright orange eyes justice.
Tigons were larger and more dangerous than the jungle cats in the Human Kingdom, as were all animals in the fae lands, but they tended to dwell in the lesser populated areas of the dense jungle.
Apparently not this one.
Violet grasped a bright purple vine to steady herself and looked up to see if she could swing to the next tree. The branches didn’t line up, and to reach another, she’d have to either climb higher or slide lower.
“Please go away,” she pleaded with the animal who seemed determined to wait her out. Did tigons eat people? Violet didn’t know, but judging by the look in the tigon’s eye, she would find out the hard way.
The sound of someone approaching caught her attention, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Help!” The footsteps sped up, and she added, “Be careful. There’s a tigon.”
They ran faster, and when Roman materialized at the base of the tree, Violet’s shoulders sagged. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “Maybe your glamour will work on him,” she said shakily. “Either mine isn’t working or he can smell my fear.”
Roman looked from the tigon to Violet and suppressed a smile.
“If you’re going to laugh at me, then leave,” she snapped.
Roman’s lip trembled, and he lost the battle, doubling over in a fit of laughter. Maybe she could convince the tigon to eat him instead.
“He’s myfamiliar,princess. He won’t hurt you,” the prince informed her once he’d regained control of himself.
Her attention involuntarily moved to Roman’s chest. He wore a lightweight, white, long-sleeved shirt tucked into dark green trousers. The top buttons of his shirt were open, and she could see the black lines of hisfamiliarmark.
Royal fae bonded with afamiliaron their fifteenth birthday, and when the bond formed, the royal fae received a mark on their chest of the animal, like a tattoo. “Show me your mark.”
He unbuttoned his shirt and proudly displayed an artistic version of a tigon. Lips parting with awe, she leaned forward a little to see it better. “It looks cool.” Roman beamed with pride. Violet held onto the vine in her hand and jumped down. “What’s yourfamiliar’sname?”
Roman jolted forward and caught her around the waist before she hit the ground. “I hate it when you do that,” he grumbled. “I haven’t named him yet.”
“Why not?” she asked, staring at the tigon.
“He hates everything I suggest,” Roman complained. “I told him to name himself, but he refuses.”
Violet tentatively reached over and scratched the tigon’s head. His mane slid through her fingers like silk. “How do you know he doesn’t like the names? Does he bite you or something?”
Roman shook his head with a half-cocked grin. “He tells me.” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline, and he added, “I can sense his thoughts.”Huh. She hadn’t known they could communicate that way.
Violet stared at the beast again. “His mane is glorious. You could call him Samyaza,” she suggested, referencing a fictional angel warrior in an old faerietale. The tigon nudged Violet’s hand and licked her fingers. “I think he likes it.”
Roman took a step closer and observed the two, all humor dropping from his face. “Over my dead body.”
Violet leaned over and cooed into the beast’s fur, “That can be arranged, can’t it?”
The tigon purred, earning a scowl from Roman. “Don’t be childish.”
Violet straightened and stared him down. “What twisted your undershorts?” Roman didn’t look amused, and she knew him well enough to know something else bothered him. “Is everything alright?” His eyes flitted to hers, confirming her suspicions. “You can tell me. I’m a good listener and even better at revenge.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
