Page 32 of Hellish Fae
“I wanted Aries here because she’s my sister. Sisters should stick together,” she answers in the eerie way that she always does.
Damien doesn’t buy it. I don’t either, but I’m apparently better at problem solving than he is.
“Corva was exiled to the edge of the fae realm. I was exiled to the Bin. We are, however, both still princesses. And she knows that when I left, I wanted Nathiale dead more than I wanted anything else for the position he put me in. I can’t do that from the human realm. By bringing me here, she fuels my poor choices in wanting to execute my brother. If I succeed, because she’s the eldest, she will be granted a pardon and brought back to my father’s kingdom, where she will wait in line to be the next Queen of Roses.”
Corva smiles like broken glass waiting to slice me open.
I smile back.
Because I know that father will never let any of that happen. She can sit back and wait for me to kill our brother for her but she’ll never get what she wants.
Father will breed a hundred more children in his lifetime rather than let his mistress’s child sit on his throne.
You see, what dear sweet daddy doesn’t tell people is that Corva is the creation of demons and fae procreating. This is a dark secret of course, since demons and fae are forbidden by the gods to procreate. Centuries ago, the King had a wild streak though. Maybe it was just one night or maybe he was enchanted by a succubus. Maybe he has many excuses.
But Corva is living proof that for a brief moment, my father didn’t entirely despise demons.
Her smile stays permanently on her face as she slides her notes into a handsewn satchel and drapes a black cloak over her shoulders.
She never explains where she goes. She’s gone a lot, and I rather prefer it that way, but she’s either leaving because she can’t stand being around men who are nearly demons, or she’s conspiring with others. She’ll need allies once the throne is open to her after all.
None of that involve me though.
I’m starting to realize that none of this involves me.
Tonight, I’m going to leave. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I’ll find my own little isolated spot, just as she has. My life will be my own, without care about kings and princes and mutilated monsters trying to hold off becoming what they’re meant to be.
You can’t fight destiny.
And I’m officially done trying.
The door closes behind my sister with a quiet click. I sit there waiting for the fallen angel at my side to leave my little safe haven.
Seconds slip by without sound.
I’m suddenly aware of how often I’m breathing, and for faefucking sake, just leave already.
My head turns slowly, and I find him staring at me with his honest amber eyes.
“You don’t really trust her, do you?”
“Not as much as you trust everyone around you, Damien.” It’s a biting remark but a true one.
He’s too trusting.
He should learn to be more like his brother. Then uncomfortable situations like the bathroom fiasco wouldn’t happen.
I shake my head at him. Instead of sitting through another moment of unending tension, I stand, since it’s clear he won’t leave anytime soon.
But the moment I stand, he does, too.
“You think I’m too nice?” He steps in front of me and corners me against the hard edge of the couch. His warmth bleeds into me, and I shift against him as my breasts press into his chest.
“You’re definitely too nice.” I stare up at him unflinchingly, even though he has a good ten inches on me heightwise. “If you had a backbone at all, you wouldn’t be caught up with my sister. You wouldn’t take her word that she’s helping you when she clearly just wants to see the mutilated outcome of mixing fae magic and demon magic. She wants what my father fears.” When he just gives me a confused look, I answer for him. “Monsters.”
His lips part as if I just slapped him instead of speaking honestly.
“Why would she do that?” he asks, astounded.
