The car doesn’t come to an abrupt halt, and it shakes with the force of braking so quickly on uneven ground. I swear more trees spring up before us, just to fuck with me. I work hard to jerk the car out of the way each time, barely scraping by unfazed.
Finally—mercifully—the little Honda comes to a complete stop only a foot in front of another larger oak tree. For a moment, neither Sister Tammy or I speaks. The only sound comes from our labored breathing, and then a moment later, “Jesus, Take the Wheel” plays on the radio.
“A sign! The good Lord is watching out for us—ah!”Sister Tammy’s words break off in a scream, pointing at something ahead of her.
My head jerks up just in time to catch a blur of gray hovering above the car. Before I can react, the creaturelands gracefully on the hood, its massive wings outstretched, spanning at least eight feet. The leathery feathers, though tough in appearance, have a smooth, almost silk-like sheen under the dim light filtering into the woods.
I let my gaze travel over the creature before us, taking in every detail. His face is eerily familiar with sharp features framed by dark gray hair, tousled from the flight. His eyes, distant and heavy with something unreadable, hold a profound sadness. Horns curve from his head, stark against his windblown hair. But what truly strikes me are the large wings protruding from his back.
The Guardian stands before us, naked from the waist up. His chiseled chest puts body builders to shame. Even Sister Tammy gasps as she takes in The Guardian, looking like a runway model straight out of Hell.
“I think I had a sip too much of the blood of Christ during dinner. Does that…manhave wings?” She says the wordmanas if she’s unsure if that’s what she’s looking at. The Guardian is like no man I’ve ever seen before. He’s not really a man at all.
Ignoring the fact she just admitted to potentially driving drunk, I grab the handle and push open the car door, not so gracefully stumbling out. Before I can embarrass myself any further, I steady myself and glare at The Guardian. “You could have killed us,” I snap, finding no remorse in his eyes.
“I was not the one driving this monstrosity. No, Ms. Ward, if you would have died in that car, it would not have been my fault. Seems like you managed to escapejust fine, though,” The Guardian says, barely glancing over the car. “I was on my way to retrieve you, but I see you had a ride.”
“‘Had’ being the key word,” I mumble, fishing for the contract I know he’s after from my bag. It’s crumpled, and I think there are vegetable oil stains on the pages, but it’s legible. I hand it over, and The Guardian gives it a quick glance as my heart pounds loudly in my chest. What if he says no? That he’s changed his mind? I didn’t just almost hit a bunch of big-ass trees to be told I’m no longer allowed to leave this place.
His silence is suffocating and lasts far too long for my liking. I’m about to say something that would probably make my mom scold me if she were here, but then The Guardian looks up, the contract vanishing before my eyes. “Looks like everything is in order. Just to reiterate: the moment I take you through the portal to Mescos, you’ll never be able to set foot in Grym Hollow again.”
“I’m aware. That’s the entire point,” I say, probably a little bit bitchier than I intended. Still, he scared me and could have seriously injured Sister Tammy and me. Speaking of Sister Tammy, she’s still staring at The Guardian with wide eyes, a mixture of fear and something akin to interest, far more than a woman of the church should have for a devilishly handsome man. She’s just a girl after all. We like what we like.
Sister Tammy notices me staring and clears her throat, visibly shaking. “Well, I do hope you still give me five stars on the group chat before you go.” She looks like she wants to put as much distance as possible between herself and The Guardian.
“I’ll do my best not to land on top of cars anymore, Sister,” he says, bored of the conversation.
Despite her obvious fear, she doesn’t pass up the chance to reprimand him. “See that you do, mister. Can’t make this a regular thing. Some of us have to make a living, you know.” Seeing Sister Tammy lecture The Guardian would be comical if I wasn’t so keen on getting the hell out of here. Say what you want about the little nun, she is quite the feisty woman, even when scared.
“I’ll make sure to leave you five stars. We’re still alive, aren’t we?” I’m half joking, half reassuring myself we are, in fact, alive. I retrieve my suitcase from the back; the pans rattle as I stand it right side up. The Guardian raises his brow, but I elect to ignore his curiosity.
“Well, I’ll just be on my way then,” Sister Tammy says after a moment of tense silence. She doesn’t wait for me to respond before putting the car in reverse and stepping on the gas. How the damn car is still running is beyond me. I fear she’s going to hit a tree—or three—but she somehow manages to skillfully navigate to the road without any further problems.
And then my last chance of turning back speeds away, leaving me alone with The Guardian.
“We should be off. Take my hand, Ms. Ward. I’ll take us back to the portal.” The Guardian stretches out his hand, offering it to me. My fate is sealed when I take his hand, clutching my suitcase in the other. I expect him to lead the way, but instead he says, “We’ll fly back.”
“What?”I gasp, body tensing as if already preparing for the worst. “I can’t fly. Why are we flying? Can’t we walk? Walkingsounds good.”
The Guardian either doesn’t notice my nerves, or he doesn’t care. I think the latter. He ignores me and pulls me closer, an arm snaking around my middle. My breath hitches at the cool contact of his skin. “Time to take you to your fae king husbands. They are anxiously awaiting your arrival.”
My brain is slow to process his words. Husbands? As in plural? Did I miss that in the contract? Seems like a pretty big thing to miss, but maybe I didn’t read it as thoroughly as I thought.
“What do you meanhusbands?” I ask, but my question is lost as we take to the air, my words swallowed up by the wind.
Chapter 3
Niko
Aworn and discolored map is rolled out on the table before me, displaying our court and the surrounding kingdoms. A large black X indicates the castle, and a smaller red X shows our current location, about ten miles from our home. We are on the line between the Ice Court and Earth Court, so the wind holds a chill I’m not accustomed to, settling deep in my bones. A quick scan around my table shows everyone feels the temperature change, but they’re doing their best to keep their heads bowed and focused on the map below. The only person who doesn’t seem affected by the chill in the air is Zephyr.
My mate.
His posture is rigid, holding more tension in his arms and shoulders than I’ve seen before. His dark skin that used to glow from within as if he’s the sun is dulled and ashen from lack of food and sleep. I once tracked his meals to make sure he’s getting enough, but with how scarce food is these days, I’ve stopped, no longer wantingto know how many days his body suffers without nutrients. I fear even if I presented him with a four-course meal, he’d deny it and let it go to a family with young children, despite how much he needs it. He’s stubborn that way.
Of course, I can’t say I would do anything different.
Perfectly in tune with me, Zephyr raises his head, meeting my gaze. He holds so much behind his eyes. Exhaustion. Fear. Love. I wish I could take all the bad and assure him—as his king and mate—that everything is going to be okay. But the reality is I’m no longer certain of that.
