Page 51 of The Path of Blood and Betrayals
He, his mother and sister were under the impression that physical activity would tire my magic out. If my body was exhausted, my mind would be and therefore the evil magic in my blood.
It didn’t work like that. Sometimes, I was too tired to fight the control and stayed in my hut, sleeping it off. Maybe that was their ultimate plan—force me into unconsciousness and therefore everyone would be safe.
“And who knows when we find the army?” He shrugs, holding the flap as he leaves. “If you hurry, I’ll make you that chicory beverage you’re so fond of in the morning.”
The tent closes with an audible snap, and I bellow, “On Cella’s fucking crown!”
Grabbing my cloak and tightening my boots, I hustle out of the tent, failing to fasten the belt around my middle. I could deny Tay but after our little bicker yesterday, I’d rather be on good terms.
It took hours to fall asleep last night from the thumping hearts and jovial laughs. Maybe parrying with my daggers would tired me out enough for a nap before we continue on?
Barreling into the clearing, my magic starts, the few bodies moving enough to pull on my control. I wince, hand to my head, holding back the urge to grab their blood.
My mouth waters as I close my eyes, steeling my shields. Dammit, it’s strong today. Inhaling, I push back the urge to vomit and count my breaths.
“Easy, kitten,” the heir teases over me. Opening my eyes, I see him leaning against a tree, hidden in the shadows, a smirk on his lip. “Not a morning person, I see.”
Those lips look devilishly soft.Almost kissable.
Jolting, I slap a hand to my eyes, cursing myself mentally.Nope. That’s not going to be a thought right now. That Fae holds my fate in his hands and to even consider kissing him is incomprehensible.
Gods above, what is happening to me?
“Why are you here?” My nails rake my thick strands back into a quick braid. “Aren’t DarkFaeallergic to sunlight or something?”
He chuckles, stepping fully into the firelight.
I bite back a moan. It’s not fair how handsome he looks. The darkness becomes him, molding to him like an old friend.
Comparatively, I’m positive I look like a wagon hit me, and left me for dead.
“We’re not in the daylight.” He steps closer and instinctively, I step back. “But yes, Dark Fae cannot tolerate sunlight. The royal family, on the other hand, has no such restrictions.”
Figures.
He steps close again, tunic brushing mine, smokey campfire scent wrapping around my throat like a noose.
“Where are you going so early?”
Holding up my belt, I finally slip it around my hips. “Training.”
His amber eyes harden. “Remember the rules.”
Waving him off, I shake my head. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t go anywhere alone. I won’t be. Taylay is training me.”
I move away as he grabs my elbow. “The Witch is no warrior. What does he hope to teach you?”
Tugging on my arm, I glare when he doesn’t release me. “Not that it’s your business, but it’s to help me.”
“Help?” He prods. “How would someone ineffective in combat, teaching you to fight, help you? It would rather get you killed.”
Finally, I jerk my arm away and he looks displeased as I move further back.
“Listen,” I snap, poking his chest. “We both know what I can do.” I lower my voice, praying no one else hears. “He thinks by tiring me out, it’ll help my control.”
He tilts his head. I hate how primal he looks. “Itwon’t work.”
Biting my lip, I glance away. “If he think?—”
