Page 98 of Blood of the Fairest

"Wrath? Why free him?" he asks, perturbed.

"He's going to send me back to my world."

The Huntsman halts in his tracks, but I keep going, climbing the spiraling stone steps.

By the time I reach the top and step back into the queen's chambers, Wulf has caught up again. Whatever his thoughts on the matter, he says nothing as I hold the open book up for Eris to see.

I'm so filled with hope at this new possible way to get home that I beam at the gorgeous man in my mirror.

"Be a lamb and read this for me, please? Preferably the whole thing, unlike that cryptic little note from before," I add teasingly.

Eris looks like he wants to say no, but curses after a moment and squints at the paper.

"Let's see…something about Reinhilde's rendezvous with a married man in Aurefeld, something about having a milkmaid whipped for speaking in her presence—ah, here we go. Three of my most delicious Favored went to attend the christening in Rosenwald. One of them was Theo. I really liked that one, actually—he even said he loved me once. His blood tasted like cranberries. I love cranberries, so it pissed me off when the Faerie of Wrath cursed Rosenwald to fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years again."

"Wait…cursed to sleep for a hundred years?" I realize out loud, my brain catching up.

I recognize that story. Sleeping Beauty—or actually, it was called Little Brier-Rose in the book of fairy tales that I read almost every night for years, when I was a little kid.

As different and strange as this world may be from the tales I grew up on, it's obvious that at least parts of those storylines are very real here.

Meaning, Malivant is the same faerie who cursed Sleeping Beauty's kingdom.

"Indeed, Rosenwald has been asleep for nearly a century," Eris says matter-of-factly before reading on. "I'm not surprised, since Wrath keeps doing this. I don't know why he's the only faerie who doesn't know what's going on, but I'm tired of it just like I'm tired of everything. I decided to punish him for ensnaring Theo and the other two. It took some work, but I managed to trap him under one of his own shrines with a curse I made. Of course, it will fade if it's kept anywhere outside of this room, so here it is for the next time that annoying faerie curses Rosenwald…"

Eris trails off, tipping his head. "Next time? And what does she mean, he keeps doing this? I don't remember Reinhilde ever having lovers who went to a christening in Rosenwald—not to mention it was cursed too long ago for anyone alive to have been in attendance."

Again, I'm guessing the evil queen was some kind of immortal vampire with a past he doesn't know about.

But the rest of Rhinestone's writing is gibberish to me, too.

"Is the curse written there?" I check.

"Yes. It will have to be transposed to break whatever Reinhilde did to the faerie."

Excitement fills me, my heart beating faster as I realize this could really be it. I could really go back to my world, just as soon as I get the faerie out of that prison.

But first…

I want Snow White, Anika, and the others to have some gorgeous dresses and a little more leverage in their pockets before I leave them for good.

I also promised Eris I would help him find a way to leave the mirror. I decide to ask Malivant how that can happen, once I'm standing in front of him again.

The idea of seeing that terrifying faerie face-to-face makes me shudder before I put on a bright smile, glancing up at Wulf.

"Let me grab something to write it down, and we'll ride at dawn."

Merrick and I walk together through the halls of Isenmere Castle. Early-morning light streams through the arched stained-glass windows we pass. Now and then, Eris appears in their reflections.

The Huntsman trails behind us several steps, ever the silent protector that he's become.

He's wearing a woolen coat today to cover the bandages on his thick arms. He's left the hood down so it bunches around his neck just enough to hide my bite mark there.

Whenever I apologize again for biting him, Wulf insists he doesn't mind the marks. Eris jokes that he seems to actually like them.

Still, I bet the towering northerner will be thrilled to get a break from my appetite when I finally leave this world.

I wouldn't let the Huntsman spike my mulled wine with Kool-Aid this morning, since I drank plenty from him yesterday. Eris was huffy about it—but I'm honestly worried that if I get one more taste of mint and blackberry, I might take a flying leap at that poor handsome Viking and try to hump his brains out.