Page 45 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

“Please sit,” he said.

And not wanting to seem rude, she sat at the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling over the side. The prince dropped down next to her. Then tearing off a hunk of bread, he handed it to Millie. Unsheathing a small, blunt knife, he sliced two wedges of cheese, placing the knife on his lap and one of the wedges onto Millicent’s. Then he opened the bag of bearberries to set between them on the grass and shoved the bag closer to her.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Millie looked at him fondly as she grabbed up a handful of the juicy, ripe fruit, popping a couple in her mouth. Chewing, a bit of juice dribbled down her chin.

Before she could wipe it away, the prince shot his hand out, using his thumb to wipe it for her.

She felt the jolt of electricity trill up and down her spine and then through her body at the contact. The prince must have felt it, too, because he quickly withdrew his hand, the way one might if burned.

Though it didn’t burn. It was more invigorating, like jumping into a winter lake after spending time sitting by a fire.

It was foreign, yet familiar at the same time. There was so much spoken between them with that touch, yet without a word uttered aloud.

Eighteen

I mean, I knew I had powers. I was the flesh.

IWOKE UP NOT FEELING AS REFRESHED AS I SHOULD have, considering how comfortable I’d been. Not at all a restless sleep. I hadn’t even dreamed, come to think of it.What was in that tea Baba Yaga gave us?

But when I looked over at the sleeping Steele, it all came rushing back. Choices. Connections. How would we save Korrigan from the fate the hag ravens showed us? How would I save the outliers or myself for that matter?

It all seemed so hopeless when spread before me in one mass of doom and gloom. And it was, a rerun of Baba Yaga’s slideshow from last night played silently on the wall for me while the others continued to sleep.

What to do?

Where to start?

Carefully extracting myself from Steele’s arms, I walked to the hide hanging over the doorway and pulled it back just enough to peek outside. The Akylis mist clung to the earth as ground cover.

I shuddered, feeling a mystery pain, especially on my shins and calves.

Bending down to rub the skin, the wind picked up, blowing my hair gently in the breeze. But unfortunately, the mist seemed to have, for lack of a better explanation, caught my scent. I watched, frozen in horror as it rolled across the ground, toward me. Billowy and beautiful—and deadly.

No way would a hide keep the mist from rolling inside the hut. Steele. Baba Yaga herself—both would be killed where they slept.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because the mist hit an invisible barrier. Rolling up, as if breaking against a wall.

I swore it hissed at me. Hungered for me, and not like it wanted a taste, but like it’d already had one. And the more it struggled, the worse the burning pain on my legs became.

None of this made sense. Dream Millie had been fed on, not me. The hissing grew louder, more frenzied.

How could Steele or the witch sleep through such a racket? I couldn’t think. I needed to think.

The pain. The noise. The pain. The noise.

“Shut up,” I growled.

Abruptly, the mist stopped hissing. It stopped. Just like that.

But the pain persisted.

Would it listen if I ordered it to leave?

“Go away?” I called cautiously. Hesitantly.

Nothing. Both the pain and the mist persisted.

Tears filled my eyes.

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