The rulers would be able to see that.
I smiled ruthlessly as my thoughts instantly cleared.
Gone was the drugged peace. Gone was soft sweetness.
My royal firepower had burned it away.
I lowered my hands and pushed my power down, cutting it off. The snow had melted around me in a large circle, ash and mud visible, burned into the ground, steam rising high into the cold air. I stared into the distance where the ice cliff lay to the south of Trumbalay. It was certain any early morning risers in the city knew a royal elf was here now—their sky having lit up like Fairy had ripped open above them.
I raced down the foothill, dodging between trees.
I needed to hide until the rulers arrived.
They had better not kill themselves on that Fae damned glacier, either. I would be extremely bothered if they did so. I could not save this realm alone, not with a dragon guarding this city.
* * *
I slammed my back against the rough, splintered wood of a small shed, sharp points jabbing at my shoulders. The snow beneath my feet crunched, not helping to conceal my whereabouts. I needed warmer attire. My hands were turning blue, and my face was stiff from the biting chill. I couldn’t risk using my royal firepower again to warm myself, not with the fire show I’d already produced. I prayed to the Fae I would find clothingverysoon—my expensive, elven attire stuck out like a screaming buzzard crouched over its kill. In that scenario, the shifters would be the buzzard while I, the small mouse it feasted upon. The shifter numbers of Trumbalay vastly outnumbered my lone contingent of one.
Simply stated, I would be fucked if the shifters found me.
I peeked around the cracked, wooden edge of the shed, and squinted at the snow-covered, timbered dwelling thirty paces away, studying the frosted windows the best I could for any movement.
I held perfectly still and silent as I spied on the home.
The sun shone down on top of my hooded head, but there was no warmth from the rays. Relentless and freezing wind battered my shivering frame, whipping my clothing back and forth against my body. I curled my toes inside my slippers, each tiny toe wet and cold from the snow. I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering too loudly.
The sun climbed higher. I waited. It was still early.
Two hours later, a flash of blue moved behind the far window, a tall shifter walking by. I glared at the late-waking individual. Did this shifter not have a job to go to,anythingthat would have awakened the shiftera littleearlier? I was utterly frozen in place, snowflakes now covering my person—not melting—from the snow shower currently falling from the unforgiving sky. The snow did help me blend into the scenery—grudgingly, I could admit that—but it was Fae fucking cold out here!
It felt like a lifetime had passed before the damned shifter finally left his dwelling. I still waited, erring on the side of caution that there may be another individual inside. The sun crept higher and higher into the sky, hardly seen now behind the hovering, gray clouds, before I decided it was time to act.
I lifted my arms out to my sides and performed the most improper body shake to cast the snow off myself. I groaned with the pain of the action, my skin burning from the cold and my entire body aching from hours of tensed muscles. My icy feet barely held me up as I agonizingly walked toward the home, unable to feel my Fae damned appendages at this point.
I halted in the middle of the snow-covered yard when my Fae-spark unexpectedly flared. I growled under my breath and decided to feed my power into it, the shifter king’s wrath be damned. He had hurt himself, and I would help heal him. My blasted soul mate needed to stay alive—as he led the group of rulers—otherwise, the realm wouldn’t survive. His future anger was worth the cost.
I finished my stiff venture over the yard and held my breath with hope as I twisted the handle on the back door, the wooden door opening without resistance. This shifter had no trust issues, leaving his door unlocked like this, and it was so very helpful to me. I stepped inside and shut the door silently, once more waiting with my pointed ears perked for any sound. I had been right—this house was small enough that only one or two shifters could live in it comfortably. There was no rustling or footsteps to be heard.
I rubbed my hands together in fast jerks, attempting to warm them, the humble abode much warmer than outside. I stomped each foot on the mat in front of the door, bashing feeling into my feet, and pinching my nose as I did so—sharp stabs of throbbing pain shooting up from the bottoms of my feet. I shoved my hood back off my head and removed my sodden cloak, letting the delicate, wet material fall to the ground. With methodical movements, I stripped myself down to my bra and underwear. A niggling thought that I may still smell like the shifter king pounced and would not let go.
I bared my fangs and quickly rushed from room to room, trying to locate the bathroom. I took the quickest shower ever. The water turned on, a pouring of soap, off went the suds under the stream, and then I swiftly shut the water off. My Fae fucking hair was now wet,nota problem I wished to have outside in this weather. I debated for all of a short second before I released a smidgen of my royal firepower and quickly dried my hair, fervently praying no one saw the blaze of light through the windows.
My Fae-spark flared again.
And again, I sent my power into it.
The rulers had better not bloody well die.
I rifled through the shifter’s belongings, searching for any garments small enough and thick enough to clothe me and keep me warm. I ripped the edges off many items until I had a complete outfit that would keep me from becoming a complete icicle—and clothing that I could both run and escape in easily. The shoes were my only issue. The tall shifter had no footwear even close to my size, so I put on heavy sock after heavy sock, yanking on so many that he did not have many left in his drawer.
I sprinted to the kitchen, darting my eyes over his foodstuff on the counters and inside the cabinets. Crumbs fell from my lips as I shoved biscuits into my mouth, eating as quickly and as many as I could manage. I guzzled two glasses of water, and, finally, I decided my time here was done.
I pulled the many woolen caps I wore down on my head as far as they would go and wrapped thick scarves around my lower face, before snatching my wet clothing from the back door. As they were caster-spelled fireproof, I couldn’t torch them. I’d need to bury them under the snow.
I opened the back door and peeked outside, glancing side to side. The snow had not stopped, only intensifying, and the visibility was low. It was an impeccable time to escape.
I shut the door behind me—locking it—and raced across the yard with my elven clothing balled against my chest with a crooked arm. I ran as fast as I could, past the back of homes, far enough away their inhabitants would be unable to see me in the frenzied flakes. I sprinted toward the south, where the ice cliff was giving my Fae fucking soul mate issues once more—my Fae-spark heating yet again. I knew scaling that damned ice was not a good idea.
