20
KADEN
Stalking through the halls, the sweet scent of nectar and roses consume me. ThankBelI’m not longer cursed—the smells always gave me a headache. My blood drips from my wound, slow to heal, leaving a trail behind me. Unfortunately, it’s been like this since the bond was solidified, my healing being spread out between two bodies.
That’s not a problem for me. I’d gladly give anything to keep Max safe.
My problem is this unusual urge toconsume. If I were still cursed, I’d blame the beast. His anger, his need, it was almost too much to bear. But it’s not him. He’s gone—extinguished from me. I am finally free, and yet, I am constantly thinking about drinking from my mate.
That can’t be natural. Not all Dark Fae bond, but none of them are obsessed with their mate’s blood like me.
It was a struggle to walk away from her, riding back to the palace alone. I wanted to grab her, hold her too tightly for her to breathe, and sink my fangs into her vulnerable neck.
Or wrist. Or inner thigh. It doesn’t matter—just that I get to taste her again. It’s concerning. And frankly, terrifying.
OnEnyo’spower, please don’t let me kill her.
Stopping at Aoife’s bedchambers, I wait for the guards to knock and allow me entrance. This is normal for us—she very rarely uses her office for delegation. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a room glided in gold with gem encrusted walls either.
Her room is wide, expansive with large windows opened to let in the soft breeze that is always there in the Woodland Kingdom. It smells of roses and magic—a weird combination I’ve often found distasteful.
The bright room is airy, with clouds painted on the ceiling to mimic soaring in the skies. Her bed, far to the back wall, is pillowed high with blankets and furs—all white.
And sitting on the edge is Aoife, golden dress like a burning sun in the stately room. Her pale hair is even and trimmed, the crown on her head another beacon that I can’t look directly at. There’s so much gold here—it’s irksome.
Gods, soon, I’ll be home. I cannot stand the sickening sweet scents that surrounds the castle, or the heavy perfume of those Godsawful roses.
“You return,” she says, stepping close. Her nose twitches and she tsks, tugging my arm up. “You’re injured.”
“It’s a scrape.” I shrug off her touch, my skin crawling.
Ever since Max made her thoughts known, it’s hard not to see Aoife in a new light.
Aoife, the Fae who brushed the hair from my face when I fell, the Fae who comforted me when my mother died, and who reminded me of what kind of king I would be when Zelos was terrible, is… in love with me?
It’s ridiculous—and yet, it’s not.
I see the clothing. I hear her tone. The way her eyes flutter in my presence.
I have bedded enough females to see the signs.But I only have eyes for my wife.
“I’ll heal.” I cross my hands behind my back like a good soldier. “I came to give you a report before I head back to my party.”
Nodding, she clasps her hands, a step too close. So, I step back. “And what have you found?”
“Griffin’s Humans were there. They’ve banded together—Crimson and royal guards. And they have many.”
She sneers. “Humans. They reproduce like rabbits.”
In that, we agree.
“What will you do?”
She moves close again, her skirts twirling around my muddy boots. Pivoting, I walk to the balcony, pretending to admire the grounds.
Keeping away from her is one thing, but I don’t want to offend. Not yet. I will if she crosses a line.
For now, I have to play nice. She supported my coup, she was my mother’s oldest friend and confident. I have to plan my next steps carefully.
