“Not all of us can be as self-sacrificing and noble as you,” Baltas teases as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Self-sacrificing. The reminder cuts through me. The deal I had to make with a neighboring kingdom in order to secure an alliance and their army in the battles to come.
“It was never my intention to sacrifice anything,” I confess, wiping my hands dry on my trousers.
Baltas places a hand on my shoulder, and I’m grateful for the reassuring touch. It grounds me back into reality after participating in the inhumane mutilation of fae. Even if they were conspiring with Queen Daphne to further her dark, deathly grip on my home, it’s difficult to separate my true self from the monster I’ve had to become.
Every death is a tragic loss, and Baltas knows it tears at what’s left of my soul. My hands may be clean, but my conscience never will be.
He is my best friend, and I never would have made it this far without him.
“It is not something to be ashamed of, Majesty.”
I blanch at the formality of his words and look around to see if anyone heard, but there’s not a single fae nearby.
“Please, don’t.”
Baltas chuckles. “I make no promises.”
I have to jump a little to wrap my arm around his neck, playfully hooking it at the throat. “I make no promises to keepyou alive, you little shit,” I say, messing his hair and releasing my hold.
“Little my ass! How about a drink, then?” he offers.
I shake my head. “Not tonight.”
I back down the tunnel toward my sleeping quarters, glancing over my shoulder to ensure I don’t run into anyone.
“You’re startin’ to be a heaping pile of no fun, is what you are,” Baltas yells after me.
“Not when there’s work to be done. We’ve a kingdom to acquire.” But it’s only a half truth. I’ll treat him to a pint or two tomorrow evening. When I know she’ll be there after a long day of working, training, and surviving in this fucked-up world.
The one selfish thing I allow myself is her.
FROM MY SHADOWY perch in the corner of the dimly lit bar, I sit with my feet kicked up on the thick wooden table, watching. My glass tankard of amber liquid drips with sticky foam.
The healer walks in with the captain of the Queen’s Guard.
One long, mud-colored braid hangs over her shoulder. She’s tall and curvy, and her skin lacks color from a lifetime without the sun.
Her leathers are caked in muck, but she still looks prepared to take down any assailant at the drop of a pin. Her muscles are tight, and her head is on a swivel. I’ve only been watching her for a short while, but I’ve learned enough to know she can handle her own.
Her presence is intoxicating, but it’s those familiar green eyes that have me watching her every move. A reminder that she’s doubly off-limits. I trace the outline of her curves all the waydown to what brought me to her in the first place. That fucking dagger.
I gulp down half my drink and scan the place once more. Baltas still hasn’t arrived, and I’m starting to think he’s stood me up.
When my eyes track back to the healer, she’s made her way to the dance floor. Instinctively, I slowly uncross my legs and set them on the ground, prepared to pounce if anyone dares to touch her.
I have no right to feel possessive over her, but the unruly beast within me, even dulled as it is by the curse, insists.
She sways her hips, and I can’t help but notice how free she looks. It’s the only time those lines don’t crease her forehead, and her entire body isn’t tense, waiting for a fight.
Placing my elbows on the table and lacing my fingers together, I set my chin on the grooves they form.
She makes it three more steps before I’m pushing off the top of the table, grinding my boots into the concrete as I drive the chair backward to stand.
That thing inside me snaps when the captain reaches out to grab her.
“Going somewhere?” Baltas steps into focus, and I lose sight of the girl.
